Chapter Text

This carousel keeps spinnin' around
And I'm just hopin' with my feet on solid ground
I'll find the gravity, to pull you into me
You're the balance that I need in my life
In this carnival ride

Attached to the message was a link that led him to an OnlyHeroes account ‘HalflingTwunk’ and already, Dorian was intrigued by the still frame of the halfling he could make out behind the play button on the video, wearing little more than a pair of short shorts and fairy wings. Curious, he hit play and watched as the music started and halfling clambered up onto the pole to work his routine, swinging himself around in time to the music, making it look effortlessly easy, almost as if he was flying. Dorian was entranced, trying to predict what he would do next, flipping and twisting around to the beat. Then it was over and the halfling dropped back to the ground and bowed to the camera with a handsome grin.

--

Orym’s studio was tucked into a small backstreet of the city, right between an all-hours laundromat and a junk store that apparently bought gold for cash according to the neon flashing sign that flickered in the front window. It was perfectly quiet when Dorian rolled to a stop in one of the empty parks along the one-way street and lowered his sunglasses. Then he glanced down at his phone - he’d given Orym his work number to make it easier for them to communicate - double checking the address for the nth time. Fearne had also assured him not to be deceived by the outside, the plain brick building with no signage, and that Orym preferred it that way because it was more private. He supposed he just had to trust.

He made his way across the street quickly, knocking on the door and waiting, clutching onto the strap of his shoulder bag. It didn’t take long for Orym to answer, almost having to crane his neck to meet Dorian’s eye. The halfling was wearing nothing more than a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and a singlet and yet, somehow, he made them look attractive. Or maybe it was just Orym in general. Dorian had thought he’d been handsome in the video he’d watched, but he was even better looking in person, all lean muscle and fit.

“You must be Blue,” He said warmly, waiting until Dorian nodded before stepping aside so he could enter.

Dorian was surprised to find that the inside was a lot nicer than the outside. The little lobby area that he’d stepped into had a couple of comfortable-looking low couches, a water cooler and a few cute ferns as decoration. Beyond the glass sliding door was the studio proper, where he could see around eight or so poles affixed into place and one of the walls entirely made up of mirrors.

“So,” Orym’s voice drew Dorian’s attention once more. “Firstly, welcome to the studio. I’m Orym, but you knew that already. I’ve been teaching pole for around ten years now and this studio is a safe haven. I’ve taught a lot of strippers and a couple of pornstars over the years and can guarantee you, you won’t be made to feel uncomfortable here. Before we jump in, couple of ground rules: no shoes in the studio, if you break something, you pay for it, and any repeated dangerous behaviour will result in your being asked to leave. Clear?”

“Perfectly.” Dorian toed off his shoes to place them on the rack. “Do you get a lot of people doing risky things?”

“Not if I’m upfront about the consequences.” Orym shrugged and motioned for Dorian to follow him into the studio. “Sometimes, however, people get a bit overeager about their own ability and hurt themselves. You can leave your bag on the edge there. We’ll start with some light warm-ups and then I’ll show you a couple of easy spins and holds. Did you have another outfit? Jeans won’t work too well on the pole.”

“Oh, right, yeah I do.”

Dorian dumped his bag on the sidelines before beginning to strip, throwing off his clothes until he was left in just his booty shorts and singlet. When he turned back around, Orym was wearing even less, having abandoned his singlet and in the process of shaking off his sweatpants into the pile of his belongings by the mirror. Dorian sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. While he must have been wearing some kind of dancer's belt underneath, Orym’s tight, black shorts still left almost nothing to the imagination and Dorian couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to outline someone's dick with his mouth this badly. Orym also seemed to pause at the sight of him; the flick of his eyes was casual, yet felt appraising.

“Much better. Let's start with some warm-ups.”

Orym spent the next twenty minutes leading him through a slow series of exercises, starting with the legs and working their way up through the body until Dorian was feeling even more limber than usual. Maybe he could consider adding a few of these moves to his pre-stream workouts to help pump himself up for the long hauls that they could be. After they warmed up, Orym showed him a few simple, starting moves, like how to sit on the pole, how to climb and a few of the low fall spins. He tries his best to copy the movements, Orym detailing each step as he needed, until he’d successfully managed to at least climb the pole. Sitting was a whole other issue.

“But we’ll work on that,” Orym promised once they’d redressed and stood in the lobby. “You’ve made a great start and will only improve from here. Do you have any ideas on what you might like to achieve, what your viewers might find interesting?”

“Not really? I guess they kinda really go for my whole submissive thing but I’m not sure how that would translate to pole work.” Dorian considered for a moment. “Why don’t I just link you to my stuff and you can watch it and see the kind of things my audience pays for? That might give you a better idea of things you can teach me to suit.”

“Oh, uh…” Orym had begun to blush. “That could work but, uhm, are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll set you up with a free trial and then I stream every Yulesen eight till nine-thirty. If you let me know you’ll be watching I’ll let you in past the paywall.”

Orym was completely red by this point. “Sure. Sounds…swell. Uh, Yulesen, I’ll remember that.”

Dorian grinned a little. “I’ll be looking for your username in the chat, telling me how pretty I am.”

“Do I need to be in a chat to do that?” Orym then looked mortified and bit his lip, as if he hadn’t intended to say that. Dorian’s grin grew.

“No, you can tell me if you think I’m pretty to my face. I think you’re pretty cute too.”

Orym looked about ready to combust.

“Same time next week?” He half choked out and Dorian chuckled.

“Only if you don’t see me before then.” He tossed Orym a wink before pulling open the door.

As he exited, the last thing he caught sight of before the door closed was Orym dropping his head into his hands, looking ready to shrink even further into himself. Instantly, Dorian was taken with the idea of knowing all the shades of red Orym could turn if he kept teasing him. It had been a long time since he’d really met anyone remotely new and even longer still since he might have been interested in flirting with them. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to indulge himself with the cute instructor who didn’t even know his real name.

--

Orym was having a crisis. Just a minor one. Upon opening BabyBlue’s OnlyHeroes page, it became quickly obvious the kinds of content his viewers were into and unfortunately, to his own surprise, so was he. There was apparently a lot of interest and demand to watch this blue twink absolutely wreck himself in various positions on the voted ‘dildo of the week’ along with follow-up reviews where he wore lingerie that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Orym couldn’t tell if it was just the cameras or if there was magic involved, but it felt odd to relate the Blue on the screen to the man he’d met mere days ago in his studio. They looked like two completely different people, but he supposed that might have been the point. He obviously valued his privacy and there was enough of a difference when he wore this hair up that it probably fooled enough people when he did go out.

Orym kept scrolling through, past the spank bank material, some sponsorship shout-outs, more lingerie and toy reviews - the gold set of lace really made his skin pop - and before he knew it, he was down in the depths of the feed, watching videos that by the time stamps were around two years old, back when the page was formed. The video quality was noticeably worse but almost immediately Orym could tell that this was a much more real version of Blue compared to the more polished videos at the top of the feed. He looked happier and seemed to actually be enjoying himself, not that he thought Blue wasn’t somewhat enjoying himself in the newer videos, but there was just a different vibe that he picked up on, the lack of acting and showmanship. He was doing it for fun, because he could, not because someone had voted for him to pound himself on the tentacle dildo.

Still, none of those revelations made him feel any better about what he was doing, which was effectively watching this entire man's history of porn and trying to translate it into a pole routine. Despite the fact Blue had not only given him permission but also given him access and had even encouraged him to watch one of his streams, it still felt so wrong. He was a teacher, a professional, and yet here he was sprawled out on his couch watching almost targeted porn on his phone. Gods, if only Will could see him now; he would have found this whole situation hilarious. He also would have agreed that Blue was ridiculously cute. He felt his ears burn, remembering his little slip just before they’d parted. He hadn’t meant the quip to slip out but after that session, after an hour and a half being subjected to watching that body move and actively being flirted with by the most beautiful fucking creature he’d met in a long time; he’d ended up not being able to help himself. At least Blue hadn’t seemed offended.

He wasn’t going to read too much into it though, he decided, powering off his phone and chucking it down beside him. Blue was a pornstar and had probably only been flirting as part of his persona. Orym just had to keep his cool and act as if he was not insanely attracted to the long lines of his legs and those clever eyes. He shook his head. Cold shower it was. But for as unethical as it felt, weirdly, it did give him a few ideas of some of the things that he could teach Blue, things that he thought would suit his audience's tastes, things that would work well with his height and show off, well, everything on offer. He finished up his shower, made some notes for the next lesson with Blue and then threw himself face-first into bed to try and grab a few hours of sleep and pointedly not think about the fact he’d spent all afternoon scrolling through porn.

--

The next session with Blue went about as well as he could have expected. He greeted Blue at the door to the studio, instantly remembering not only his fumble from last time but that he’d effectively watched him completely naked and masturbating in multiple different positions. He knew exactly what the man sounded like when he came for Melora’s sake. Orym fought down his blush as the genasi grinned at him, as if he could guess exactly where his mind had gone, before breezing past into the lobby to deposit his shoes on the rack. After some quick pleasantries, Orym led them through the warm-up exercises and then they went over the moves he’d shown him last time. To his credit, Blue had retained them well enough to repeat them with little assistance.

Orym then showed him a few of the new moves he wanted to slowly work up to teaching him, perhaps showing off a little more than he needed to as he swung around, before landing back on the ground. Before they could get to any of that, he had to be able to sit and not slide first.

“Orym why does it burn…” Blue whined after the third time he slipped back to sit on the ground, rubbing at his inner thighs.

“You just gotta build up that tolerance for it,” Orym explained, passing him the liquid chalk. “You’ve got good strength in your thighs but you’re so worried about the burn, you’re not gripping the pole tight enough and that’s why you’re slipping. You’re just in your own head about it, you’ll learn.”

“Funny, I usually don’t get many complaints about my grip strength,” Blue said with a flirty grin and a bat of his eyes. Orym snorted and popped off the cap of his drink bottle to take a swig just as Blue continued with, “If I stop worrying about the burn, will you promise to kiss it better afterwards?”

Orym choked, barely covering his mouth in time before the rest of his sip of water went everywhere. Even still a good chunk of it dribbled down his chin and he tried to both catch it and wipe it away. He coughed and tried to right himself, but made the mistake of looking at Blue, who smirked.

“You look good with your mouth full and dripping.”

He doubled over, somewhere between choking and laughing in disbelief that this was actually happening, feeling his face burn all the way out to the tips of his ears. He finally forced himself to swallow and took a few breaths to bring himself back down before he uncovered his face and turned to glare at Blue, who was still grinning.

“You did that on purpose.” His voice sounded wrecked.

“You’re far too easy to stir up.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Next time I get out the spray bottle.”

“You say it like a threat but that just sounds like a good time to me, I’ll make sure to wear white.” Blue chuckled, hoisting himself up with the pole to stand. “Okay back to the grind. Unless you would like to on me?”

At Orym’s exasperated expression, Blue laughed. “Sorry, sorry, I can’t help myself. I’ll be good now, I promise.”

Orym shot him a disbelieving eyebrow but said no more. To his credit, he did pull back enough on the flirting so that Orym could continue the lesson with some degree of his sanity intact and by the end of the session, Blue actually managed to sit and stay on the pole for more than a few seconds. After a quick high-five of a job well done, and the most honest smile Blue had ever flashed at him, Orym shuffled his student out into the lobby.

“I’ve been thinking about song choices you could put on our workout playlist,” Blue said, leaning against the top of the doorframe. “Something like ‘I kissed the teacher’ would be a fun one.”

Orym shook his head good-naturedly. “I’ve never dated a student before so I wouldn’t know.”

And it was true; most of his students were either women or men far too young for him. Neither of which were his type. Blue on the other hand…

“First time for everything.”

Orym laughed. “Goodnight, Blue. I’ll see you next week.”

Blue chuckled and pushed off the doorframe.

“Don’t forget I stream on Yulesen!” He called back over his shoulder and Orym watched as he practically skipped across the street back to his car.

Orym waved and waited until the car had vanished around the corner before shutting the door and taking a moment to lean against it. He was an adult and a professional; he should be able to handle a little bit of flirting and not let it affect him like this. He probably should have shut it down right quick from the beginning, but it had been a while since anyone he’d had any interest in had flirted with him so heavily and it had taken him off guard how much he’d actually enjoyed it. But he also had to remind himself that this was more than likely just Blue acting. Sometimes people just liked to flirt with whoever they came into contact with after all.

He stumbled his way back into the studio and caught sight of himself in the mirrors, flushed red across his cheeks and ears, and wondered how he was supposed to survive ten more weeks of this.

Chapter Text

'cause your lips taste like peppermint
Just one more time, I got you because I
I stole a kiss from you, I stole a kiss from you, But I need more
I stole a kiss from you, But I need more of you now
Let's play sex games

Over the next couple of weeks, as they trained, there were a lot of things Dorian found he liked about Orym. For one, the halfling was extremely sweet and considerate, never once making Dorian feel judged or ashamed for his profession or for his lack of coordination when it came to pole dancing. He was also just a fantastic teacher and motivator, especially on the days when Dorian really felt like he couldn’t do much. Orym was good with praise and it always felt well deserved, like he’d earned it rather than Orym was just doing it to keep Dorian motivated. And Dorian found that he really liked that. He knew he liked praise; it was half the reason he’d gotten into porn in the first place, to be praised by lots of people almost always. But he found he liked it more when Orym praised him, even for something just as simple as landing a spin right. It sank down along his spine to settle warmly in his gut and that was when he started to get other ideas.

For starters, he very much liked the idea of having sex with Orym. It had been a long time since he’d met anyone with whom he’d felt vaguely comfortable even entertaining the idea of sleeping with them and even longer still since he’d actually slept with someone real. Doing porn basically full time didn’t allow him to often go out and meet people, and even then, when he finally did drop what he did for work, there were often two responses - overeager or disgusted. The first kind were the creeps, who wanted to know all the different ways he was flexible and thought they could ‘save him’ from this life and viewed themselves as the hero in his story. The second type were just as bad, making assumptions about his preferences, assuming he was sleeping around and often made excuses to leave quickly. Orym was neither of those. He understood the business, had friends in it and was respectful of Dorian’s work. That only made him more appealing.

He probably could have gone about it a better way, rather than flirting with Orym right off the bat and making it seem like he wasn’t serious about it. And perhaps he hadn’t been at first, but now his mind was made up, he shifted into what he hoped was a little more serious flirting. Or maybe he was just being more ridiculous, he didn’t know.

Dorian began by wearing his hair out for their lessons, letting it drape all prettily as he hung upside down with a grin, showing off to Orym how well he’d picked up inverted hold. He also tried to rather stealthily drop it into the conversation that he was single, (“You know I’m kind of like a Kraft cheese single, wrapped but on my own.”) though he wasn’t sure if maybe he was a bit too obtuse with that one as Orym had looked at him funny before just barrelling on with the lesson. So the next time he tried to be more obvious with it (“This isn’t the only pole I’d go down on, you know.”) and at least at that one Orym had turned red on the backs of his ears. However, Orym did end up going through with his threat of a squirt bottle and if Dorian got a bit too flirty or distracted during the session, Orym was not afraid to shoot him with his crazy precision aim.

“If you wanted me wet, you only had to ask.” The water hit him straight in the face and he recoiled back with a laugh.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave if you don’t start behaving.”

“Sir? Careful Orym, you might awaken something in me.” That earned him another spritz to the face. “Who am I kidding, you already did.”

The lesson was promptly abandoned for five minutes as Orym chased him down with the water until Dorian was on his back on the ground, soaked through, but they were both laughing.

“You are a menace,” Orym declared, helping him to sit back up. Dorian grinned and squeezed his hand, pulling himself in so close that their foreheads met.

“And you like it,” Dorian purred. “You like it when I flirt with you and I like it when you flirt with me, so why-”

He was abruptly cut off as Orym sprayed him in the face once more, from right under his chin. He flinched back with a laugh, wiping the water off his face and by the time he’d righted himself, Orym had put a respectable distance back between them. He wasn’t going to be deterred though. Orym was clearly just playing hard to get and if he was honest with himself, he was quite enjoying the chase. It was a game between them and one of these days, one of them would crack. Though, what would happen after he wasn’t sure. He supposed he’d find out when it did.

The next week, Dorian brought some of his gear with him in order to film their lesson to create a little teaser for his fans and it meant that for the whole session, he got to show off to Orym everything he’d learnt in his time with him. Admittedly, he was a little nervous with some of the moves, but to the untrained eye, it still looked good, or at least he hoped it did. Between cuts, he continued his flirting, Orym rolling his eyes exasperated and it just felt right. They’d found a rhythm, a give and take that worked for them and yet he still found himself wanting more. Orym seemed comfortable with the flirting at least, but had made no move to accept anything further than that.

Perhaps he really had been serious about not dating his students and once Dorian was finished with his lessons, that was when he would make his move. Or maybe Orym wasn’t really interested and was just flirting because Dorian was. He wasn’t sure and even if he thought he might have the courage to ask, the words died on his tongue when he tried. So he went a different route, kneeling down to Orym’s level as they said goodbye in the lobby like always.

“I wanted to thank you for everything these past few weeks. I’m glad I decided to step out of my comfort zone and come meet you.”

Orym smiled. “You’ve taken to it really well, few more weeks and you’ll be well on your way to learning a few more of the intermediate moves.”

“I appreciate you saying that.” He twisted his fingers together for a moment, considering. “I have something I’d like to give you, but you have to close your eyes first.”

“Are you going to spray me in the face with water as revenge?” Orym asked with a small laugh, but still closed his eyes dutifully.

“No, I wouldn’t do that to you…but I will do this.”

Very gently, he caught hold of Orym’s chin between his thumb and finger, watching curiously as his lips parted as if on instinct. But he stayed still, as if curious about what Dorian would do next. There was half a heartbeat where his eyes flicked down to Orym’s lips, considering, then he reeled himself back in because that felt far too intimate a thing to do. Orym was hardly looking for any commitment or relationship from him, not when he’d made it clear he didn’t date students. Besides, Orym didn’t even know his name, his real name, or anything about him outside this studio. Give and take was their game and he would only ever take what was offered freely, so he chose to offer something this time. But the idea still lingered in the back of his mind, even as he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Orym’s forehead instead.

Dorian drew away, twisting his hands back together as Orym’s eyes fluttered back open with an unreadable expression.

“That's…not what I expected,” Orym murmured, and Dorian couldn’t help but smile a little.

“I should have just handed you the dildo instead, shouldn’t I?” He teased and Orym lightly batted him on the shoulder. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll behave.”

“You never do.” Orym shook his head. “Come on, off you go, I know you don’t like to be out too late.”

Dorian rolled his eyes like a teenager. “Yes sir, off I go. All alone. Back to my big empty condo.”

“I’ll get the broom.”

“Alright, alright!” Dorian laughed, sidestepping the next swat Orym swung towards him, giggling as he hightailed it out the door. “See you next week!”

--

Arguably, this was probably the worst idea Orym had ever had, but Blue had sent him the link apropos of nothing one Yulesen evening and he couldn't deny he'd been curious. He hadn't gone back to watch anything else on Blue’s page since that one afternoon he'd scrolled for a few hours, though, that didn't mean he didn't retain what he had seen. Sometimes, especially during their subsequent lessons when Blue was right there in front of Orym, his brain liked to remind him exactly what the genasi looked like riding a dildo the size and thickness of his arm, on his hands and knees, begging to come. And he knew he wasn’t the greatest actor by any means, but even he had to admit he was proud of how well he kept a straight face in those moments when his brain betrayed him.

So he settled in on the couch, in his most comfortable sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt, holding his phone on his belly as he created an account (settling on HalflingTwunk as his username so Blue could identify him if he wanted) and followed the link through to the pre-stream loading screen. The background was a baby blue coloured sky with white fluffy clouds and a cute little chibi pair of silver wings hovering mid-screen with the words ‘Stream Starting Soon’ in cursive font underneath. He didn’t have to wait long, though, as right on eight pm, the screen faded to reveal Blue kneeling as if waiting for them.

He looked resplendent, his ombre hair draping down along his back with silver-lined eyes and lips that matched the outfit of the evening, a black leather choker and shoulder harness combo that had silver chains draped across his chest and dipped down around his sides. From what Orym could tell by how Blue was sitting, he was also wearing panties, with more silver chains draped over his thighs, though the panties themselves looked to be a soft fabric and not leather like the collar. He was also in thigh-high stockings, silver threaded to match the theme. Blue then smiled and leaned over, looking down at the screen.

“Well, hello lovelies, welcome to the stream,” He purred, eyes flickering as if reading something and Orym then realised there was a chat as well. For now, it was mostly people greeting Blue, some hopes for what was going to happen in the stream and some…very strange requests. He might as well write something as well. Orym typed out a quick, ‘Hey Blue!’ and pressed send before suddenly wondering if that was even a good idea and if maybe he should have just stayed quiet. After a delay, Blue’s eyes suddenly alighted and he grinned a little wickedly.

“I see we have some new users in the chat, welcome, welcome. I hope you enjoy the show.” Then he winked at the camera and Orym suddenly felt hot all over.

The chat continued to whir by as more people joined the stream, some messages about what he expected of a horny chat (“i’ve been waiting for your stream all day ;)” “Bend over let me make you a good time” "Sit on my face") to the downright weird ("Sooo beautiful!!! How sensitive are those amazing nipples" “what do you smell like today, blue?”) and Blue dutifully answered a few of the odd questions (apparently his nipples were perfectly sensitive and he smelled like peppermint) before reaching off-screen.

"So, by popular vote, we're starting off today with everyone's favourite, the red tiefling dildo." Blue produced said dildo, about the size of Orym's fist at its widest towards the base, red and veiny with more of a pointed tip. Blue showed it off to the camera before suctioning it to the ground in front of him. "But the only question is, how do you guys want me to take it?"

The chat had more than a few ideas on how Blue should take the dildo. Orym just watched in morbid curiosity as Blue batted his eyes at the chat, clearly reading what they were saying before putting on the air of a blushing maiden.

"Oh, but I couldn't possibly take it all in one go, AttentionWh0re69, I think I'll need some encouragement to fuck myself open like that."

Blue sat up on his knees and positioned himself over the dildo before gently rocking back against the head, showing the screen an excellent view of the "panties" he was wearing, which were little more than a G-string with chains, that barely contained his already hard cerulean cock. It left nothing to the imagination, and Orym could feel himself stirring in his own pants. Meanwhile, in the chat, donations began to pour in, as did the requests.

"Fuck yourself open real slow for us BabyBlue? I can do that for you, DwarfDaddy. Thanks for your lovely donation."

Blue gently tweaked his nipples with a little gasp before wiggling a little to sit back on the dildo. He moaned and bit his lip, sinking a little lower and throwing back his head as he rocked, methodically, beginning to fuck himself open slowly on the dildo as requested. It was definitely artistic, from the drape of his hair to the sighs of pleasure he breathed out, and yet despite that, it was hot. Ridiculously so. And somehow, despite the distraction up his ass, Blue still seemed to be keeping an eye on the goings-on in the chat.

"Turn around and show us those buns? Pretty please? Only ‘cause you asked so nicely xXsluttyholeXx."

Blue then smoothly turned his back to the camera, but kept his head tilted so he could still watch the chat, as he continued slowly lowering himself down onto the tiefling dildo, G-string pulled aside. Orym had to admit Blue's ass looked fantastic in this light, ripe to be grabbed and bit and spread and…he quickly shoved that line of thought aside. He was watching for education purposes, to learn what Blue’s audience liked and that was it, he wasn't here to fantasize. Once the dildo was halfway into him, Blue let out a sweet little high-pitched noise, like he'd just hit a very good spot and arched back before stage whispering a breathy,

"It's so big, I don't think I can do it, you guys."

Blue then began to cry, his makeup spilling tears of pure silver down his cheeks, though he valiantly continued to fuck himself on the part of the dildo he'd ‘managed’ to fit inside him. Tilting his head back he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his face with another soft moan. It was dramatic and extremely played up, but Blue's viewers were eating it up.

Orym found himself wondering if this was what it was always like for Blue. He hadn’t exactly looked at any of the comments on his videos, had just sort of scrolled through until something had moved and vaguely taken his interest. But he supposed it made sense. Blue was young and fit and downright gorgeous; it made sense he was popular and unfortunately, that meant he attracted a very strange breed of people. Of course Blue was going to be even more private than most of his previous students, he probably had to worry about stalkers more than the average person ever should.

Blue let out another sweet little moan and drew Orym’s attention back to him. It seemed like he’d got enough in tips to continue with the show and had sunk down another inch on the dildo, showing off an impressive core strength with how he stayed in that position. Orym made a mental note of a few moves he could teach him with that knowledge.

Blue bit his lip again and batted his eyes a little. “Are you going to be nice to me chat and let me jerk off? This pretty cock I've got all hard just for you.”

The chat was immediately flooded with more begging, asking for him to turn back around and let them watch, talk of wanting to come all over him, and one person in particular who kept asking for a shoutout because it was their birthday. Blue took all of these comments in stride and in the blink of an eye sank down to take the dildo completely so he was finally sitting flush with the floor. Orym felt his dick twitch at that. Blue had definitely been able to do that from the beginning and had been teasing. Blue then smiled wickedly at the camera and sat back up before he shimmied out of his panties and flung them aside, effortlessly careless. He then shuffled around so his side profile was to the camera showing off all the long lean lines of his body, ones that Orym already felt oddly familiar with given how much time he’d spent with him, and sat back up a little.

“Fast or slow chat?” He asked with an easy grin, waiting and watching for the answers and tips. “Slow? You guys just love to torture me, don’t you?”

Blue finally wrapped a hand around his cock, which by this point was practically purple and weeping from neglect, and sighed in relief before slowly beginning to pump, rocking back on the dildo in the same movement. As requested he was taking it excruciatingly slow, silver tears still dripping down along his cheeks and neck, now mixed with the black of his mascara. It was artistic in a way he hadn’t expected and he could see the appeal. He could more than just see the appeal. Hesitantly, he steadied the phone with one hand and used the other to reach down and absently press down on his cock with the ball of his hand, arching back a little as the arousal shot through him. Okay, so he couldn’t deny he wasn’t attracted to Blue, but he still wasn’t going to jerk it off watching his stream. A cold shower was more than likely in his future to prevent that.

However, that plan went right out the window when Blue softly began to beg, arching back to fuck himself deeper onto the dildo, still fisting his cock slowly.

“Please, please let me go faster, please. I’ll be very good if you let me go faster.”

He wanted to snort in disbelief at that; Blue was never good and he kind of liked that about him, but something about his tone sent sparks down his nerves and his cock twitched again in eager response. He was going to regret this the next time he faced Blue, but letting off a little steam would mean he was less distracted in the meantime right? He tugged the laces free and slid a hand straight into his underwear, groaning softly as his hand made contact with his dick. He should not have already been this hard over a little bit of masturbation, but here he was, full tilt and ready to go. In hindsight, he could have just switched the stream off, there was nothing stopping him from just walking away and never thinking about this again - that was a lie, he was going to be thinking about this again, more than likely the next time he and Blue crossed paths. But he’d made his bed and now he had to lie in it.

He’d stopped watching the chat the second he’d had a hand on himself, but from what he could tell, Blue had been given the permission he’d needed to speed up, fucking himself onto the dildo without abandon, fisting around his cock as hard and fast as he wanted to go. And yet there was still that artistry in it, in the way he arched his back or tossed his hair or even the sweet sounds he let out. It was all clearly premeditated, like an act that he’d rehearsed in the mirror but it was a damn effective performance. Orym found he didn’t like matching pace, instead just taking it slow as, after all, he only wanted to take the edge off. Blue however was clearly racing for that finish line, his movements getting sloppy and uncoordinated. He half expected Blue’s orgasm to be as dramatic as the rest of the show, but in the end, he just came with a high-pitched whine, spend splattered across his chest before he slowly relaxed.

Then, after a moment, Blue turned and winked directly at the camera. For an instant, Orym caught sight of the Blue who flirted with him from the floor of his studio, the Blue who had pressed a kiss on his forehead with an indigo blush on his cheeks just days prior, the Blue that no longer felt like an act around him. Suddenly he found himself gripping the base of his cock, shuddering, wondering what the hell had just happened.

"Thanks for coming," Blue murmured with a grin before the stream went dark, right on nine-thirty.

Orym took several deep breaths, willing himself and his dick to calm down. There was definitely some line he had almost been about to cross and he didn’t like the thought of what might happen if he did. He was just bringing his breathing back under control when his phone suddenly alighted and buzzed loudly, startling him so badly that he almost dropped it. He managed to scoop it up at the last second, hitting the answer button and bringing it up to his ear with only the barest of glances at the caller ID and that was enough to almost send him back into hyperventilating.

“Hi, Orym,” Blue’s voice was thick and syrupy, no doubt still feeling the post-orgasm high. “I assume that was you as HalflingTwunk in the chat today.”

Orym swallowed heavily. “Yeah. Well, you sent me the link and I didn’t want to be rude.”

Blue chuckled softly. “Good. Did you enjoy the show?”

He considered for a moment about how honest he wanted to be. “...yes. Gave me some ideas, you have good core strength so I was thinking about what moves-”

“Orym.” Blue cut him off swiftly, yet sweetly. “You don’t have to be professional right now. You can jerk off to me if you want, I don’t mind.”

Orym swallowed. “It hardly feels appropriate given the circumstances.”

“What’s not appropriate is how badly I want to put your pretty little cock in my mouth.” Orym squeezed his cock, willing himself not to come. “Sorry, that was too much, I’m still kind of in work mode.”

Orym bit his lip. “Why did you call me, Blue?”

There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I don’t…know. I just…I don’t know.”

“I mean, you did just finish up a show, you’re just running on adrenaline maybe?”

“Maybe. I’m sorry, I guess I just wanted to make sure you enjoyed it?”

Orym couldn’t believe he was actually having this conversation with his dick in his hand. “Everyone seemed like they were enjoying it, Blue.”

Blue sighed a little. “Yeah but I want to know if you enjoyed it.”

He paused for a moment. “Why’s that? Why specifically me?”

“Because I was thinking about you. Knowing you were watching. Wondering if you thought I was pretty. If I got you off.”

Orym shivered and swallowed back the lump in his throat.

“You’re a menace,” He murmured, hoping to keep some part of his dignity intact before he melted into the couch cushions.

Blue laughed brightly. “I know. But I do want to know what you thought of it.”

“Artistic.” The word was out of his mouth before he could really stop himself. “It’s all a show but you make it look so effortless.”

“That’s how I view you on the pole.” Orym could make out the sounds of movement on Blue’s end of the line like he was shifting positions. “You make it look so easy and graceful and I like watching your body move. I wonder what it would feel like under my hands-”

“-Blue,” Orym took a deep breath. “What do you want from me?”

“...I don’t know. I just know that I want.” A pause. “And I know you don’t think it’s appropriate. You’re such a good teacher in his seat of authority, not wanting to abuse me or the power he wields. But trust me, Orym, I am choosing to do this. The adrenaline only made me braver, not stupider. Besides, you’re not the only one with power here.”

Orym took a sharp little breath. “And what makes you say that?”

“Tell me with a straight voice that you aren’t touching yourself right now.”

He had him there. “Fuck.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Blue-”

“Dorian.”

Orym stopped. “What?”

“My name. It’s Dorian. I want you to use it going forwards. Consider it a sign of trust.”

"Dorian." It felt odd in his mouth after calling him Blue for so long. "Dorian."

"Yeah?"

"I…uh…that is…"

"Orym, you know you can tell me to back off, right? I know sometimes I tease you too much and you can't exactly squirt gun me over the phone. But I don't ever want you to think I won't respect your boundaries if you set them."

Orym chewed on his lip. "I know. It's just…this is a grey area I wasn't prepared for."

"Would it make you feel better if I gave you permission to come?"

Orym wrangled both his dignity and his dick back into line before either of them got away from him. However, the heavy breathing he couldn't hide and Blue-Dorian's low breathy chuckle was intoxicating. This was dangerous and he was terrified at the power this man held over him with just his voice. Orym swallowed heavily once more and made his choice.

"You look better in gold." And then he hung up the phone like a coward.

Chapter Text

I can't let this, I can't let this go
When I got you right where I want you
I been pushing for this for so long
Kiss me, just once, for luck
These are desperate measures now

--

Orym had half expected Dorian to never want to talk to him again after the way he'd hung up on him like that. But in his defence, he'd been overwhelmed at the time, and after the resulting cold shower, he'd calmed down enough to scream into a pillow and recount all the ways that interaction could have gone better. So when his phone buzzed early Da'leysen morning and he saw 'Blue' attached to the message, he'd been too afraid to open it until that evening, knowing he couldn't put it off any longer. What he found - instead of a paragraph explaining all the ways he was a horrible person and that Dorian was leaving his tutelage - was a video and accompanying message "in case you needed it xx". He reclined in bed, curiosity getting the better of him and he hit play.

The black screen faded out, and he was instantly greeted with the sight of Dorian, dressed in a stunning golden lingerie set - though he seemed to have conveniently left off the panties, his cock already flushed purple and hard, leaving him wearing only the bralet and garter belt that suspended the stockings - with matching gold eyeliner and lipstick. His hair was braided up around the crown of his head with a gold ribbon weaved in to keep it all in place and when he moved, Orym noticed that even his fingernails were painted gold. Dorian had gone all out, it seemed. Firstly, he felt relieved that Dorian hadn't been offended, immediately followed by sheer panic as he realised what was about to happen even before Dorian slapped the halfling-proportioned dildo down on the ground in front of him.

"I look good in gold, huh? I look even better in it when riding cock."

Dorian wasted absolutely no time lowering himself down onto the dildo with a low, throaty moan that sank straight into his bones because he knew, he knew that Dorian wasn't acting in that moment. Wrapping a hand around his cock and staring down the camera with a grin, Dorian began to bounce and fuck himself on the dildo, stroking himself in time with the movement. He was much quieter now than on the stream; a series of short sharp breaths and low gasps in place of the dramatic moans he'd been making yesterday. Orym was reminded of Dorian's earlier videos he'd seen, the ones where he'd been more authentically and uniquely himself, the ones where Orym had thought he'd been even more beautiful. The same feeling returned now, along with the arousal he'd denied himself yesterday, humming through his veins as Dorian let out another soft moan along with what was unmistakably his name.

"Oh, Orym."

Any plausible deniability went right out the window. Dorian had created this with the sole purpose of sending it to him, and he didn't know entirely what to do with that information, though it did go straight to his dick. He shivered as Dorian softly moaned his name again, before Orym ground a hand down over his cock, with a groan of his own. It was a terribly stupid idea, foolish even to entertain the notion, but he had a feeling even a cold shower wasn't going to solve his issue this time. So he let his mind go numb and shoved his hand down into his pants to grasp his cock and draw it out. He had a moment where he wildly considered what might happen if he sent Dorian a photo of it, fully hard and glistening at the tip, but then he shook that thought aside as too far. Instead, he just fisted a hand around himself and stroked as he focused back on the video.

In the moments he hadn't been watching, Dorian had sped up his motions, fucking himself on the dildo relentlessly and stroking himself hard and fast. Dorian then moaned, low and deep, sending another surge of arousal through Orym, before his movements suddenly grew sloppy. Dorian's voice hitched as he groaned out Orym's name one final time as he came, the white of his spend splashing like pearls across his belly. Then, with a punch-drunk post-orgasm expression, Dorian winked at the camera before the video ended. Orym cursed and slapped his phone down beside him, single-mindedly focused on chasing his own end, the sound of his name on Dorian’s tongue as he climaxed echoing through his head. Before he could find it, however, his phone started to buzz under his hand. With a strangled, frustrated groan, he pulled himself up short and flipped the phone over to see who was calling. Immediately his eyes widened and he answered.

"Dorian?" Did he have some kind of sixth sense for this thing? For calling when Orym had his dick in his hand thinking about him?

"You got my message then?"

"How did you know…?"

There was a long pause before Dorian spoke. "...You've got read receipts on? I thought it was like a cute power play like 'I saw it but didn't reply', but…do you actually not know what read receipts are?"

"Uh…no. I'm not great with technology."

Dorian laughed, but not unkindly. "Okay, well, do you want me to help you turn it off on Whelsen?"

"I would appreciate that."

There’s a pause before Dorian speaks again. "Rest assured, it's not the only thing I'm willing to help you with on Whelsen."

Orym choked and Dorian laughed.

"Sorry, can't help myself when it comes to you apparently. Hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"What would you do if you had?" The words were out before he could stop himself and yet, somehow, he couldn’t regret it. When Dorian spoke again, his voice was low, rumbling like thunder and the sound of it rolled down along his spine to settle in his gut.

“Mh, I’d ask for proof but I don’t want you to hang up on me again.”

Orym winced a little. “Sorry about that…I’m not…”

Dorian shushed him gently. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hold it against you…unless you do it to me again, then I might be a bit petty about it.”

“That’s only fair.”

They fell into silence for a long moment, Orym counting the seconds, his breathing slowing to match his heart rate but his cock still stood at full attention. Dorian finally broke first, his voice soft and careful.

“What do you need from me? You want me to keep talking or I can go and leave you to it…?”

He considered for a moment. “...Stay.” A pause. “Please?”

“Okay.” Orym could hear the soft sound of shifting sheets as if Dorian was moving around a little. “You want me to talk?”

“I don’t…I don’t know? I really don’t know what I’m doing right now and I don’t want you to think badly of me and-”

“Orym.” Dorian’s voice cut him off before he could spiral any further. “It’s okay. I could never think badly of you. You’ve been nothing but kind and sweet since the moment we met. You’re not abusing any power and you’re not making me uncomfortable; if anything, knowing that I caught you mid-act is fucking hot and only makes me more curious about what you sound like when you come.”

Orym cursed, squeezing around the base of his cock.

“I want you to be a little bad for me, Orym, just don’t think about it too much about it.”

Orym whined and finally threw caution to the wind, beginning to stroke in earnest, his breath coming out in short, sharp huffs, undeniable evidence of what he was doing. Dorian chuckled softly, almost fondly.

“If I was there, would you let me touch you?”

Orym groaned and shuddered at the thought. “Yes.”

“Good. I think I’d start by kissing along your neck…”

Dorian then proceeded to tell him exactly where and what on Orym he wanted to kiss, touch and tease, each part of him tingling in response to the ideas as they were presented. He couldn’t quite tell if Dorian was being entirely truthful, if he really was aroused by the idea of Orym and all the things he wanted to do to him but it was nice, even for a moment, to live in the fantasy. Dorian was barely through detailing exactly how he’d tease Orym’s nipples when his orgasm snuck up on him and he came with a startled cry, trembling through it. Dorian’s voice sounded so far away that it took him a few seconds to realise he’d lowered the phone away from his ear. Once he’d pulled it back, Dorian’s warm voice greeted him.

“Back with me?”

“Yeah.”

Dorian chuckled. “Feeling better?”

Orym nodded, then realised Dorian couldn’t see him and tacked on “...Yeah.”

“Good. You should probably clean up before you sleep.”

“...Right.” Orym shook his head a little to clear it. “Dorian?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll see you on Whelsen?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you on Whelsen.”

--

Whelsen morning, Orym couldn’t deny he felt rather nauseous. Less in a sense that he was physically sick but more that his anxiety and panic had brewed for long enough that it made him regret every single thing he’d ever said to Dorian and dreaded the thought of what would happen when they saw one another that evening. Maybe it would be fine and he hadn’t ruined their professional relationship past the point of no return. But he could also wear another set of shorts over his dancer's belt and his bike shorts, just in case. It never hurt to be too prepared about the idea he might get hard at the sound of his voice after everything that had happened Da’laysen. He’d admittedly never done anything like that before and had never thought it would be something he might have been interested in. But the calm way in which Dorian had not only soothed him and his fears only to then coax him through to orgasm with nothing but his voice and the idea of what he’d like to do to him, left him shivering.

He arrived at the studio an hour early to set up as usual. After turning on the lights and dumping all of his things by the mirror, he caught sight of himself in it and paused. He’d already removed his shirt, ready to do some quick warm-ups before Dorian arrived and suddenly with that thought realised this would be the first time he’d seen Dorian in person since learning his name. What would be the appropriate thing to greet him with? Absently, he ran his hands along the scars on his lower abdomen, tracing where they stretched all the way around his side. They were horrible, twisted and ugly reminders of what he had loved and lost already. And the unasked question bounced around his head; was he prepared to go through that again?

“I think you would have liked him,” Orym said absently to the empty room. “The both of you would have flirted each other into the ground.”

He sighed and lowered his hands. He had some time before Dorian arrived, maybe he could finally finish up that routine.

--

Orym didn’t greet him at the door as usual, but once inside the lobby, Dorian could hear the sound of music playing from within the studio. It wasn’t like Orym to lose track of time, though admittedly, he was a few minutes early, perhaps a little more eager than he should be. There was no guarantee anything was going to happen tonight in particular, but after what had already happened, he considered himself rightly prepared should anything happen. So, as quietly as he could, wanting to catch a glimpse at whatever Orym was working on, he quietly removed his shoes and poked his head around the corner to look in through the glass sliding door. Now that he was closer, he began to recognise the lyrics of the song playing, though it appeared to be some kind of rock cover. Then his eyes landed on Orym.

The studio, as always, was empty aside from Orym, who was about midway up the pole, currently holding on with one leg hooked around and his hand, arched back as he slowly rotated. After a moment of holding the position, he shifted, almost too fast for Dorian to follow, grabbing on with both hands and letting go with his leg to fling himself around into another rotation before his legs kicked up over his head and grabbed the pole between his thighs. From there he shifted into what Dorian knew was called a tabletop - he’d had to learn to sit before Orym had taught him that one - but the next move he was unfamiliar with as Orym dropped forwards and locked the pole into his knee and shoulder and then still spinning, let go with both his hands. It was graceful and elegant, everything he’d come to expect of Orym.

When he hoped the beat of the music was loud enough to cover the sound of the door opening, he clicked the latch and slid the door open just wide enough that he’d be able to shimmy in, bag and all. Orym didn’t seem to have noticed him yet, too absorbed in his craft and for that, Dorian was thankful. It wasn’t often he got to see Orym just let go like this and use his skills fully. He stayed by the door still, just watching as Orym, back to him, climbed right up to the top of the pole. Once up there he took his time, shifting between several different positions until he was just holding on with his thighs. Just as the beat kicked back in after a soft verse, Orym let go and fell back, like a trust fall.

Dorian was moving before he could think, his bag loudly hitting the ground as he rushed forwards, watching in slow motion as Orym fell back against the pole, catching himself to a stop with his ankles locked in place and a squeeze of his knees. Dorian stopped when Orym did, his breath catching. After a moment, Orym’s eyes snapped open to meet his, first flickering with confusion, then worry as he took in Dorian’s expression.

“What the fuck was that?” Dorian demanded as Orym dismounted and shrugged.

“Just something I’ve been practising; it’s perfectly safe so long as I keep my ankles crossed. I promise I tried it down low before I went higher.”

“I thought you were going to fall,” Dorian croaked, feeling as though his heart was in his throat. “You just…you just dropped!”

“Yeah, it’s not for everyone,” Orym said, absently dusting his hands off on his shorts. “You’re early though?”

“No it’s…it’s seven thirty.”

“Oh, I must have lost track of time. Sorry. We can make it up at the end.” Orym then headed over to his bag and left Dorian standing there, a little stunned.

That wasn’t the only thing that left him stunned that evening, however. After shaking his head, collecting both his wits and his bag, he stripped down to his shorts and a golden singlet. To his dismay, even that didn’t get much of a reaction beyond Orym pausing for a moment and turning a little red before he just passed him the liquid chalk and the lesson began as if nothing had ever happened. Dorian was confused at first but decided to go with it for now. Maybe Orym’s quip about making it up at the end had been a euphemism and he just had to be patient. However, that didn’t seem to be the case either, as Orym instead just let them run into overtime with their cooldowns and then was making notes about what they could go over next time. It was all very blase and something about Orym’s complete ignorance of their chats on both Yulesen and Da’laysen - especially the one on Da’laysen - ticked him from just frustrated to completely annoyed. Perhaps a little bit insulted too.

Well, if Orym wasn’t going to say anything, then Dorian was.

When Orym moved to stand from the ground, Dorian found himself following after him to his knees. Without much thought and before Orym could get too far away, he grabbed him by the waist, ignoring the noise of surprise he made and tugged Orym back to face him before effectively pinning him to the nearest pole. Dorian’s hands, though proportionate for his size, looked massive spanning down Orym’s sides and hips. And even on his knees he still towered over Orym, crowding him in till there was only scant space between them. So it was no surprise that Orym’s first instinct was to brace his hands against Dorian’s chest, as if to keep him at bay. Slowly, Dorian sat back on his haunches, lowering himself so they could meet more eye-to-eye. He didn’t want to be perceived as a threat but he did stay close.

Wide-eyed, Orym still looked at him with mingled confusion and mild fear, as if trying to read Dorian’s intentions in the lines of his face. And maybe he could, because after a moment he seemed to relax a little.

“Dorian?” He tried not to shiver a little at the first use of his name all session, another thing Orym had been avoiding.

“Sorry,” Dorian apologised but didn’t make any movement to let him go. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just…You haven’t said a word or given any indication about what happened on Da’laysen.”

Almost immediately, Orym began to turn red and looked anywhere but at Dorian. “Oh…right. I wasn’t sure...”

“Orym,” He finally released one of Orym’s hips just so he could catch his chin and they could have this conversation face to face. “I really thought I couldn’t make it any more obvious. Do I need to send you an engraved invitation or what?”

“I thought I was reading into it.”

“Reading into- Orym I sent you a personalised video and rang you afterwards to flirt more; I think we’re well past the part where most people get the point.”

Orym bit his lip. “Why me? You could literally have anyone?”

Dorian huffed out through his nose. “You’re not just anyone.”

“What?”

Dorian chose to ignore that and instead surged forwards to bury his face in the side of Orym’s neck, relishing the hitch in the halfling’s breath as he pressed his lips to the skin there. Orym’s hands balled up in his singlet and he pressed in a little closer as Dorian lazily trailed his lips up to his jaw, then to his ear. Under his hands, Orym shivered, even more so when Dorian tugged and coaxed him forward into his lap. Only once Orym was sitting comfortably perched on his thighs, with their hips snugly pressed together and his legs wrapped as far around Dorian’s waist as they could reach, did he speak again.

“Any hard no’s?” Dorian asked, still curled in to speak just beside his ear. “Things you know you don’t like; biting or scratching, being held down?”

Orym shook his head. “I don’t…no, things like that are fine. I mean I’m not a huge fan of being manhandled without permission-”

“Oops.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know. Kind of an after-effect of being my size. So long as you let me know what you’re doing when you want me to move, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Dorian peppered a few light kisses to his neck again, letting his hands slide down to grip Orym’s thighs. “So I can mark you up then?”

The noise Orym made then was somewhere between a choke and a moan and it went straight down to where Dorian’s dick was hardening against him. “Yes. Please.”

That was all the permission Dorain needed to nudge Orym’s chin back with his nose before pressing one last kiss to the column of his throat. Then he sank his teeth into the sensitive skin, Orym’s thighs tensing around him as if on instinct with a low rolling moan as Dorian sucked the bruise into existence. With one finally gentle nip, he eased the sting with a swipe of his tongue, glancing up briefly to make sure Orym was still on board, seeing as he was shaking under Dorian’s touch, hands clenched into fists. When he finally did meet the halfling's gaze, there was little more than a thin sliver of green around his pupils. He quirked an eyebrow in a silent question (“You okay?”) and Orym nodded minutely in response. Reassured, he latched back onto Orym’s neck on the opposite side and followed through with the same process again, earning him a few more sweet little noises and the occasional roll of Orym’s hips against his. Only once he’d left several more reddish blotches down along Orym’s neck and collarbones was he satisfied to draw back.

One of Orym’s hands, having unclenched from Dorian’s shirt, caught the side of his jaw instead and attempted to guide him downwards. There was a moment of panic in Dorian’s heart as he realised that Orym was leaning up towards him, eyes fluttering shut and aiming for a kiss. Instinct took over and he dove under the attempt, pressing his lips along Orym’s jaw instead before nipping on his earlobe. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss Orym; that was definitely something he might enjoy a lot, but Orym had already made it clear he didn’t date students. And if their flirting was anything to go by, the halfling had expressed no romantic interest in him at all. Just sex was safer, for both of their sakes. Besides, sex was just as good without kissing and there were plenty of other things his lips could be doing otherwise, like leaving more marks on Orym’s neck.

So he did just that, sucking another mark into the underside of Orym’s jaw as the halfling ground his hips down against Dorian’s again with a soft moan. Dorian was more than eager to move onto the main course and ravage himself a halfling, but Orym seemed to recollect himself a little, catching Dorian’s chin and tilting his head to meet his eye.

“What about you? What are your hard nos? What do you like?”

Dorian grinned a little.

“I like lots of things, like the grinding.” He rolled his hips up against Orym’s for effect and was blessed with a breathy moan. “But for obvious reasons, you can’t bite or scratch or otherwise mark me.”

Orym nodded in understanding. “But I can still touch you?”

“I would be offended if you didn’t,” Dorian teased, nipping at his jaw and Orym shivered. “I like to be touched everywhere and you can even pull my hair a little if you fancy.”

“Would hate to hurt you,” Orym murmured, absently running his thumb across Dorian’s bottom lip. “Can I kiss you..r neck? So long as I don’t leave a mark?”

His momentary panic settled quickly, and then he nodded. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”

Together they wrangled Dorian’s singlet up and off him and once in the clear, Orym instantly had hands on him, following the lines and planes of his chest slowly downwards. His lips then met Dorian’s neck, taking his time to map out tendons and muscles revealed when he tilted his head back with an appreciative groan. He palmed at Orym’s ass with one hand, the other drifting up along his spine to rake into the short hairs at the back of his neck. Orym must have liked that because he groaned sweetly into the curve of Dorian’s neck.

“Can I lay you down on your back?” Dorian asked into Orym’s hairline.

“Yes.”

It took all of his self-control not to just slam him down, only half remembering the instant before he did it that they were on a cold, hard wooden floor and not a comfortable bed. They’d have to remedy that for next time. But he did as he’d asked, shifting to lay Orym out on his back underneath him, pinning down his hands.

“There’s one more thing you should know.” Dorian leant down to murmur against his ear. “I actually prefer to top.”

Orym suddenly let out a startled burst of laughter and Dorian pulled back to make sure he was alright. Orym was blinking up at him as if he were surprised as well at his own outburst.

“Sorry, that's…” Orym looked aside. “It’s kinda funny 'cause I…I prefer the bottom honestly?”

Now it was Dorian’s turn to chuckle. “Well, don’t we make a pair then?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t miss the way Orym’s gaze fell on his lips for a second before they instantly flicked away. “I would have thought you were just a pillow princess by the way you fuck yourself like a slut in all your videos.”

Dorian’s eyes widened and then he grinned.

“You wanna play the brat huh?” He pinned Orym down completely and nipped at his neck again. “Just because I get paid to fuck myself on whatever dildo they choose doesn’t mean I won’t fuck you brainless.”

Orym gasped. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, so get these goddamn shorts off so I can see what I’m working with.”

“Hate to break it to you but you’ve got my hands pinned.”

Dorian cursed and blushed at his own mistake, letting Orym go and sitting back so he could aid in the process of stripping his shorts off, only to be bewildered to find another pair underneath.

“Why do have so many pants on??” Dorian exclaimed, having wrangled the second pair of shorts off Orym only to find a dancer’s belt blocking his path as well. Orym flushed a deeper shade of red.

“I didn’t want you to know how turned on I was by you.”

“Oh.” Dorian shivered and tugged Orym a little closer so their hips were flush and he could feel the bulge that was Dorian’s cock against his own. “And what about now?”

Orym moaned. “If I’d known my evening would end like this, I would have left the belt at home.”

Dorian bit down on his quip about ‘maybe next time’ not quite ready to get his hopes up that there would be a next time. Instead, he latched onto Orym’s nipple as he worked the dancer belt down and off completely, leaving Orym finally naked beneath him. Leaning back, he took a moment to appreciate the view, the fit lines of his body leading down to the v of his pelvis where his cock sat at full attention, red-tipped and leaking just, begging to be touched and tasted.

He caught Orym’s eye, making sure he was watching, before lowering himself back down to kiss his chest, once, twice, working his way slowly downwards until he was face to face with Orym’s cock. Gently, he blew a puff of cold air over it, watching in amusement as Orym jumped and it twitched in anticipation. Then he sat back up and Orym groaned and covered his face.

“Patience,” Dorian said as he soothed a hand over his thigh and reached for his bag with the other. “I wouldn’t just leave you high and dry. I’m not that cruel.”

Perhaps it had been a little bit ambitious to bring them with him, as when he drew out what he wanted from his bag, Orym’s eyes widen with recognition.

“You brought lube and condoms with you?”

Dorian shrugged and poured a healthy dollop of lube onto his fingers. “I was hopeful and eager and now look how prepared I am for what we both want. You should be thanking me for the foresight, really.”

“Menace-” Orym cut off with a gasp as Dorian shoved his lubed hand down along the back of his balls, curling around to tease at his hole. He grinned as Orym arched back against the ground, practically melting under the simple touch. Now with no more distractions, Dorian set to work, sinking down to take Orym into his mouth, pinning the halfling’s hips with his free hand to stop him from moving about. Dorian was eagerly greeted by the salty taste like an old friend, but somehow it was uniquely Orym, sweat and saccharine. He sank his hand lower, gently teasing the tip of his first finger into him, thriving for the sound Orym made as it breached him.

Dorian knew from experience that sometimes his dildos were a little exaggerated and not quite to scale, but he was surprised to find that the halfling dildo did not do Orym justice. His cock stretched his mouth a little wider than expected and it was pleasant, almost mind-numbing, just to sink down to the root and hum, feeling Orym’s muscle spasm under his touch. He kept his head perfectly still and even stopped his breathing, content to just cockwarm while his fingers slowly worked Orym open, occasionally teasing his cock head with his tongue, delighting in the way Orym twitched and moaned in response.

Only once he was sure Orym was properly fucked open and ready did he move, bobbing his head a couple of times to tease before pulling off completely with a wet noise. Orym was flushed all the way down his chest and ears now, looking debauched and still speared on three of Dorian’s fingers.

“You look pretty good like this…” Dorian had to admit the ego boost he got knowing that he was the reason. Orym smirked.

“Look better if you’d fuck me already.”

Dorian snorted. “You’re still talking quite a lot.”

“Then shut me up.”

That was a bratty threat if he’d ever heard one and he didn’t dignify it with a response other than to quickly shed his pants and roll the condom onto himself. That was when he caught Orym watching him, a mix of eagerness and curiosity as Dorian absently stroked the lube over his cock. He tapped his cock against Orym’s.

“You want this? Roll over.”

Orym looked him dead in the eye and smirked. “Make me.”

That very much felt like permission. Dorian huffed and smiled.

“Alright then.”

Orym, of course, didn’t exactly make it easy, laughing as he struggled against Dorian’s grip, which was slippery from the lube. But eventually, he did manage to at least get Orym turned around and on his knees and from there it was easy enough to pull him the rest of the way into his lap. Once there, Orym practically melted back against his chest, submitting as Dorian fisted a hand around his pretty little cock, making him writhe and grind back against Dorian’s. He worked Orym up to the point where his breathing hitched and on the cusp of orgasm before he pulled his hand away sharply, nosing into the space under his ear when Orym whined at the denial.

He then, gently, shoved Orym forward onto his hands and knees with one hand spread wide on his back before bracketing him in with his own body. Orym was so small physically compared to him, but already he took up such a big space in Dorian’s thoughts. And that terrified him if he was honest. So he focused back on the moment and as he bit fresh marks onto Orym’s shoulders, he lined them up, teasing his cock along the seam of Orym’s ass before pressing in just slightly.

“Dorian.”

Orym’s little gasp of his name drove him forwards, slowly beginning to fuck into him. Orym braced himself against the ground, bouncing back against him, meeting him with each thrust and rewarding him with another soft noise each time. It was addictive and maddening and somehow he just knew this was going to end in tragedy. So he might as well enjoy it while it lasted. With one final thrust, he bottomed out and Orym shuddered underneath him. He reached over and covered both Orym’s hands with his own, completely encompassing him.

“Breathe,” He gently coaxed against Orym’s ear, staying still so he could adjust to the intrusion. “Breathe and then tell me how you want it.”

“Any other time I’d ask to not walk tomorrow, but I have classes to teach.” Orym’s breath hitched as Dorian slowly began to draw back. “So just show me how fast you can make me come.”

Dorian cursed and after one more nibble on Orym’s shoulder to make sure he was ready, sheathed himself back into him with one fluid motion. Orym groaned and tensed. From there, it was easy to fall into a rhythm with Orym bouncing back to meet him with each thrust, clenching down around his cock as Dorian clenched down over Orym’s hands. However, Orym must have been more worked up than he thought because it didn’t take long before he was falling apart under him, coming with that same sweet noise he’d made over the phone and threatening to throw Dorian off the deep end as well. But he had more resolve than that.

Carefully, he sat back on his haunches and withdrew from Orym, who would have immediately collapsed into the pile of his own spend if Dorian hadn’t caught him and pulled him back to lean against him instead. Orym only mildly complained as Dorian sat back against the pole behind him and adjusted Orym to sit in his lap with his back to Dorian’s chest. He then parted the halfling’s thighs over his legs so Dorian’s cock could spring up into view beside Orym’s. Dorian wasted no time stripping off the condom so he could instead wrap his hand around his cock instead, groaning softly and pressing his face into Orym’s hair.

Content that Orym had gotten off and was still coming down from his orgasm high, he chased his own end with abandon, the way he liked it: quick and dirty. Orym reached up to catch the back of his neck and tugged him down to a better height to murmur soft praise to him; for how well he fucked him, how hot it was to watch him get himself off while he has a literal front-row seat and how badly he wanted to put Dorian’s cock in his mouth next time. The last one caught him off guard and he had just enough sense to aim away before he came with a moan, pressing Orym into him with his free hand.

And as they sat there, both thoroughly fucked out and Orym still trying to bring his breathing under control, Dorian couldn’t help but grin and press his lips to the side of Orym’s head.

“So. Same time next week?”

Orym choked on his spit. Dorian giggled hysterically.

Chapter Text

If we end up going down this road
You'll end up underneath my feet eventually
No, you don't wanna love me right now
'Cause baby, I don't even like me so how
Am I supposed to let myself be everything you need so sweet, then leave?
I don't wanna put you through me

--

--

Somehow, Orym managed to make it through the rest of the week without combusting.

After his panicked messaging Conthsen morning, first to Dorian and then Fearne, she had then come over with a selection of concealer and they’d managed to find one that matched him close enough that by the time she’d finished applying it, it was hard to tell he had freckles let alone any hickeys. And naturally, she teased him about it endlessly while she worked. For the most part, he stayed rather tight-lipped on the details; he knew how private Dorian was and it hardly felt appropriate to go telling it all to Fearne, even if she was also in the business herself. She huffed a little but didn’t pry beyond a quick final check-in.

“Did you at least have fun with it?”

Orym could feel himself turning red. “Yeah. Yeah, we had fun with it.”

“And do you think you’ll do it again?”

“I…yeah. Maybe. I’ll see how he feels.”

And that was the thought that kept him wondering throughout the week until Whelsen rolled around again and the nerves well and truly kicked back in. He didn't know if it would happen again or if, now that Dorian had got what he wanted, he'd be indifferent. He really hoped it wasn't the latter. Then Dorian had messaged him on Mireson, asking how his neck was healing up and Orym had snapped a picture for him of the slowly fading bruises. Thanks to Fearne’s efforts, his hickeys had gone unnoticed by his students all week and by Whelsen evening, he didn't even need to bother covering them at all. After all, maybe Dorian would enjoy seeing the reminder of their time last week, even just faintly now.

Orym greeted Dorian at the door and there was only a brief pause before Dorian cracked a smile and a joke about the marks on his neck (“I can refresh those for you if you like”) and any tension between them just evaporated. From there, it was easy to sink back into their usual flirty banter, though now Dorian had no hesitations about leaning into Orym’s space or touching him, trailing hands across skin whenever Orym came close. And Orym found he didn’t mind. It gave him a little boost of confidence in the knowledge that maybe Dorian was still interested. Enough so that as they were wrapping up for the evening, finishing their cool-down exercises, Orym found himself asking, “Did you…wanna go get a drink someplace?”

Dorian blinked at him as he slowly rose to sit back up from his stretch.

“Well, I don’t really like to go out much. Unfortunately, I’m rather…noticeable and…” He must see something in Orym’s expression and cuts himself off. “I’m flattered though, don’t get me wrong.”

Orym raised his hands. “No, no it’s fine. I understand. I know other people in the scene who are like that as well, the last thing I would want to do is put you at any risk or danger.”

Dorian smiled. “I know and I appreciate that.”

“So what about my place?” Orym froze as the realisation of what he’d just said sank in, unable to look away as Dorian’s eyes widened in surprise. So he barrelled on, no taking it back now. “It’s close and private and I have booze.”

Either way, he was going to need it after this trainwreck of a conversation. For a long moment, Dorian just looked at him and Orym couldn’t help but wonder if he’d just ruined everything. Then Dorian laughed and scooted closer leaning over to bump his head against Orym’s.

“You trying to get me in a proper bed this time?” He batted his eyelashes a little and Orym felt some of the panic leave him.

“I mean, it would be better for my back?” Even to his own ears that felt a little weak but Dorian still laughed.

“Alright then.”

Orym shoved down the little flutter his heart gave as Dorian continued.

“Is it walking distance? Can I leave my car where it is?”

“Yeah, it’s just the next block, not far at all.”

--

With a soft jangle of his keys, Orym let them both into his apartment. Its proximity to the studio was part of the reason he’d picked the space, so he was always able to just go and spend time there when he needed a mental break. Occasionally would have his friends over, especially Fearne who would visit and they would have tea in his little sitting room and chat about work or her latest sexapades. Other than that he was here alone most nights, preparing for classes or sometimes he would watch TV and fall asleep on the couch.

Seeing as halfling apartments were hard to come by, he’d had to make do with what he could get, which had ended up being a human-sized one. That really only meant that there were more than a few step stools around at the counters and all the bookshelves were set for Orym’s height. For Dorian, it must have been a bit like stepping into wonderland - some things big, some small. But he didn’t comment, just placed his bag down by the door next to the shoe rack, the exact same as the one in the studio, and toed off his shoes as well. While Orym followed suit with his shoes, Dorian padded down the entranceway, past the kitchen and into the living room to settle down on the couch.

Orym soon joined him with two wine glasses and one of the open bottles Fearne had left behind. He wasn’t huge on wine but shots of whiskey felt dangerous and he didn’t have anything else. Dorian simply watched him pour with a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t have to romance me, I was already planning on sleeping with you,” Dorian joked, accepting the glass Orym passed him as he sat down.

“I said there was booze and I delivered,” Orym said, raising his glass to Dorian before taking a sip. He screwed up his nose at the bitter tang as it went down before putting his glass aside.

“Not a fan?” Dorian asked, setting aside his own glass after taking a sip.

“No, not a big wine guy. It got left here by a friend, thought you might like it.”

“Eh, there are other things I’d prefer to have in my mouth,” Dorian pressed a firm hand to Orym’s chest and pushed him back against the arm of the couch. “Like you, for instance. I think you’re a far better vintage.”

“Oh,” Orym shivered and let himself sink back into the cushions as Dorian clambered over the top of him. “I’m not that much older than you.”

“Could have fooled me, mister read receipts,” Dorian teased even as he coaxed Orym’s arms up to remove his shirt. “How old even are you?”

“Thirty-two,” Orym slid his hands up under Dorian’s shirt, spreading his hands over as much skin as he could reach. “And you?”

Dorian shucked off his shirt and leaned down to nip at Orym’s ear. “Don’t you think it’s rude to ask me my age after we’ve already slept together? Besides, you know my birth year; it was on one of your forms.”

Orym chuckled. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”

Dorian sighed dramatically and sat back. “I’m twenty-seven, basically a wretch. There, you happy?”

“Yes,” Orym grabbed at his hips. “But I’ll be happier once you’re out of these clothes.”

They wasted little time after that, stripping off what remained of their clothes, with Dorian only mildly complaining about his dancer's belt - “If you’re wearing it the next time we have sex, Orym, I swear to all the gods I’m ripping the damn thing off.” - before he was pressed back and Dorian was swallowing down his cock whole.

Unlike last time, when he’d just held it under his tongue, Dorian hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard. And for a moment Orym truly believed Dorian was trying to suck out his soul through his dick. Then he evened out with bobbing motions, leading Orym through waves of pleasure and all he could do was hold on for dear life, one hand gently tangled in Dorian’s messy bun, the other clutching the arm of the couch behind him. Orym didn’t know exactly what Dorian was doing with his tongue but it felt ridiculously good and sent him careening towards the end despite his best resolve. He just had enough time to warn Dorian, who took him down to the root and hummed to help tip him over the edge before he came with a low groan. Dorian didn’t seem to mind, lapping up the excess spend from the corners of his lips once he’d sat back.

“Come here,” Orym tugged at his hips, coaxing Dorian to shuffle forward so he could repay the favour.

“Is it even going to fit?” Dorian teased, steadying himself as Orym wrapped a hand around the base.

“Nope, but that's half the fun.”

He took the head into his mouth, swirling it around and delighting in the noise Dorian made at the touch. Even when he relaxed his throat and took him as far as he could, there was still enough left for him to wrap a hand around and work in tandem. It was mind-numbingly good just to focus all of his attention on lavishing Dorian’s cock with his tongue, enjoying the noises he made and the way he twitched as if fighting to keep himself from thrusting. He especially enjoyed it when Dorian raked his nails through his hair and warned him with a gasp in his voice that he was close. Orym doubled down on his efforts and was rewarded with a shaking moan and a familiar salty taste flooding his mouth.

After swallowing down all of his prize, Orym released Dorian from his mouth and the genasi folded like a house of cards, collapsing down on top of him and pressing him down like a weighted blanket. After a moment, letting Orym catch his breath, Dorian wriggled a little, as if just becoming aware of Orym’s re-stirring interest, before looking up to catch his eye.

“Round two?”

--

Orym was not quite sure how it happened, but after that night, they fell into a pattern. During the week Dorian would text him, usually something flirty, occasionally a picture of what he was wearing on any given work day - Orym never understood the appeal of dick pics until Dorian - and Orym would try his best to respond in kind, flirting back and sending pictures where appropriate. Then Whelsen would roll around and they would have their usual lesson, after which Orym would ask if he wanted a nightcap. Dorian didn’t always say yes, especially if he had an early start for work the next day, but more often than not he would agree and it would end with the two of them in Orym’s bed sweating against the sheets. Or on his couch. Once on the floor and one memorable time against the front door.

Dorian always led the scene and Orym was happy to follow, but he did note that Dorian never once offered to have Orym over to his home instead or ever asked to stay the night either, often only waiting until Orym was conscious of himself again before he was out the door. It was fragile, whatever was happening between them, and he wanted to let it grow a little more before he even attempted to rock the boat.

Slowly, however, their standard Whelsen evening sex bled into the other days of the week. It felt strange, the first time Dorian came over on a Grissen evening instead, but not so much so that he didn’t let Dorian press him back into the sheets as usual. And from there, it turned into an any-day-of-the-week kind of deal. Sometimes Dorian would ask days in advance if he could come over and sometimes Orym would get a message ten minutes before Dorian showed up at his door. It was unpredictable and unsteady but he couldn’t say no. Perhaps he should have had a little more confidence in himself, to put his foot down and actually ask what was going on between them, but then Dorian would be over again and he’d lose his nerve.

Eventually, though, he did finally find the courage to pull Dorian to a stop one night before he could flee.

“Should I be getting checked for STDs?”

Dorian looked at him confused for a moment, mid-buttoning his pants back up. “Oh. Oh. I hadn’t even, like, thought about that. Uh…no should be fine? I was clean last check and it’s not like I’m sleeping with anyone else right now.”

Orym furrowed his brow. “You…you're not?”

“No?” Dorian tugged on his shirt. “Before you, it’s been like…three years? I don’t exactly get out much and the men I usually attract aren’t ones I’d sleep with.”

Something about that admission - that he was the only one Dorian was currently sleeping with - settled fondly in his heart and it took him a moment to realise Dorian was still talking.

“What about me? Should I be getting tested?”

Orym shook his head. “Ah, no, it's…you’re the first in a very long time.”

Dorian sat back down on the bed looking intrigued. “How long’s a long time, Orym?”

“Six years.”

Dorian let out a low whistle. “That’s quite the streak I broke.”

“I wasn’t…ready? Before you came along.”

An odd expression crossed over Dorian’s face and he was quick to shift it back into neutrality. “Well, that's a damn shame for anyone who missed out. I…I should head out.”

Orym caught him by the elbow. “You don’t have to rush out every time, you know? You’re not overstaying your welcome and I’m not going to kick you out.”

Dorian laughed, then caught sight of Orym’s expression. “Oh, wait, you’re serious?”

“Have people kicked you out before?” Orym guessed and Dorian turned away, reaching for his shoes so he changed tactics. “I’d rather you stay longer.”

Dorian scoffed. “And why on Exandria would you want me to stay any longer than necessary?”

“Because sometimes it’s just nice to cuddle after sex you know? To just spend time together?”

Dorian paused with his socks in his hands. Orym took the chance to shuffle closer and carefully laid his hands on Dorian’s back, smoothing them down over his shoulder blades before up again. Dorian’s breath stilled, as did the rest of him and Orym repeated the motion again.

“Why are you touching me like that?” Dorian finally asked after a long moment and Orym paused his hands on his shoulders.

“Like what?”

“All soft and genuine. It’s…I don’t understand.”

Orym rested his forehead in the dip of his spine. “You know what I think?”

“I feel like you’re going to tell me anyway,” Dorian half-joked and Orym could feel the tension in the muscles of his back, like bracing for the worst.

Orym considered his words carefully.

“I think…that you don’t know how to let others be soft to you because you always want to be in control of the narrative of how you’re perceived.” Orym swallowed, wondering how far he could push. “You’re allowed to want things and ask for them. I’m not going to think any less of you for not being perfect.”

Dorian was quiet as seconds ticked past and the regret suddenly sank in. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything and just let them tick over into eternity of whatever tragedy they’d both tumbled into. Then Dorian reanimated suddenly, scooping up his shoes in the same movement he used to launch himself off the bed, away from Orym and out through the door, shutting it behind himself. Orym felt his heart drop out the bottom of his stomach and he sank down into the space Dorian had just vacated, burying his face in his hands. Before true nausea can kick in, however, there’s the sound, like a head knocking against the wood and a soft sigh just outside his door. So while Dorian had run, he hadn’t run far.

For a moment he just lay there, listening to the sounds of what he assumed was Dorian finally pulling his shoes on, and took stock of the room around him.

“Dorian, you’ve left your sweater,” Orym called, reaching over to pluck the maroon knit up off the ground so it wouldn’t wrinkle. There's a soft curse from beyond the door before a long moment of silence.

“Keep it.” Dorian finally called back, his voice gruff, before his footsteps echoed out as he left.

--

There was about an hour right before his Whelsen evening class with Orym that Dorian considered texting him and cancelling. After the disaster of their last hook-up where not only had Orym read him for filth and then let him leave as though his dignity was still intact, but he’d also left his favourite sweater behind. And then the week had continued to go downhill from there. He was distracted, and cranky, and some of his clients had noticed his change in behaviour. And it was all Orym’s fault. Well, maybe not entirely. But he had been the catalyst of setting off all of Dorian’s self-defence mechanisms at once with just three sentences, proving beyond doubt that he was actually paying more attention than Dorian had realised. When had he gotten so bad at acting around him?

Then the cherry on top of everything was when he did actually show up for his lesson, Orym had the nerve, the gall, to be wearing the sweater he’d left behind. It wasn’t even a cold evening and he knew exactly how hot Orym ran. He’d done it entirely on purpose to get a rise out of him and it had fucking worked. The whole session, he proceeded to be petty and bitchy and yet Orym had taken it in stride. Had even continued flirting with him despite that and as though he hadn’t self-destructed the last time they’d seen one another. Then at the end of the session, Orym had caught Dorian by the elbow and asked if he wanted to get a nightcap - which at some point had just become their codeword for sex.

He could have said no, gone home and sulked that Orym had outplayed him. But he was still so angry and worked up that he ended up half dragging Orym out the door. They didn’t end up making it to the bed, Dorian just shoved him down onto the nearest horizontal surface the second the door closed behind them, which in this case was the kitchen bench, and just took what he wanted. The most surprising thing was that Orym just…let him. There was no bratting or baiting, just pressed his face into the side of Dorian’s neck and held on for dear life until they were both spent, breathing the same air before Dorian hauled him to sit upright on the counter.

Naturally, Orym sagged against him, still riding that post-orgasm high and for whatever reason, it just felt right for Dorian to wrap his arms around the halfling and pull him in flush. To tuck his head under his chin and count breaths until Orym came back to himself.

“Are you okay?” Dorian murmured as Orym reanimated and clenched fistfuls of his shirt.

“Yeah.” He didn’t sound okay though. “Just…haven’t been…held like this in a long time.”

Dorian swallowed. “Neither have I.”

If Orym was surprised by that admission, he didn’t show it but did slip his hands around to grasp onto his back, completing the uncertain hug. Dorian wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but it was long enough that his anxiety kicked in. He pulled away to put space between them once more, just enough that he could look down at him and keep his hands on Orym’s hips. Orym let him go without argument, simply watching as Dorian shoved all of his walls back up, the supports weaker than ever but not yet. Not yet.

“Why are you wearing my sweater, Orym?” He asked instead and Orym sighed a little before he smiled.

“‘Cause it smells like you.”

Dorian closed his eyes tightly, hating the way those words wrapped around his heart and squeezed tightly. He knocked his forehead down against Orym’s, noting the way his breath hitched as their noses brushed. Orym then froze, as if he was scared to move, like it might frighten Dorian away and maybe he was right. It felt reckless to want more, to wish for more. Orym had already given him so much and hadn’t asked for anything in return. So why did it feel like he held all the cards and yet Orym held all the power?

He made a choice, and perhaps it wasn’t the right one, but he wanted back even a fraction of the power he’d once held. And to do that, maybe he had to be soft. Aside from the forehead kiss he’d placed upon him all those weeks ago, Dorian had been avoiding touching Orym’s face. Just another thing that had felt too intimate for what was supposed to be a casual, easy-breezy hook-up. But they were far beyond that now weren’t they? Things were changing, he was changing and it was all Orym’s fault.

So he started in the space between Orym’s brows, placing a hesitant kiss there before moving down to the bridge of his nose. Orym remained stock still, though his breath did hitch as Dorian went chasing freckles across each cheek with his lips. He took his time, just letting instinct guide him until he found the freckle in the very corner of Orym’s lips, lingering there as they parted with a surprised little gasp. It took him half a heartbeat to realise what he’d done fully, what line he might have just crossed and then he found he didn’t care. Orym knew how to stop him if he wanted; knew how to say no and put boundaries in place. If he wanted Dorian to move away he would say so.

But he didn’t. So he lingered a moment longer, before tilting his head a little, brushing their lips ever so slightly against one another. It was hardly what he would call a kiss but somehow it still felt more intimate than anything he’d ever done. Under his hands, he could feel Orym practically vibrating, clearly fighting to stay still and let him lead the moment, letting Dorian come to him. It was a valiant effort he had to admit. In his position, Dorian wouldn’t have had the patience. So he tilted his head further, not intending to leave him hanging any longer-

The knock at the door startled him so badly that he stumbled back away from Orym, and in the process, tripped a little on his pants which were still down around his ankles. Thankfully, he only fell back as far as the counter behind him allowed, catching himself and looking up to meet Orym’s gaze, his hands covering his mouth.

“Are you okay?” He asked and Dorian nodded.

Physically he was fine, emotionally his mind was running away with everything about that interaction that had been wrong. Orym didn’t know that, of course, and simply hopped down off the counter, pulled his pants back up and hurried over to the door as the person knocked again. Dorian took the chance to drag his own pants back up and secure them in place, straightening himself out a little, listening as Orym and the stranger conversed. Then he realised, he recognised her voice.

“I just came by to see if you still needed my concealer,” Fearne said in a tone that he knew meant she absolutely did not give two shits about her concealer. Wait, hadn’t Orym borrowed that from his neighbour? Was Fearne his neighbour?

“No you didn’t,” Orym deflected with a laugh. “You were spying again, weren’t you? I told you the guy I’m seeing is very private and doesn’t want to meet you.”

Dorian would never admit to the flips his heart did at the words ‘the guy I’m seeing’ coming from Orym’s mouth.

“Oh, but he doesn’t need to worry about me, I won’t tell anyone where he is.” Fearne continued and Orym huffed.

“Fearnie-”

“It’s okay, Orym,” Dorian slid around the corner to see the familiar fawn standing in Orym’s doorway, towering over the halfling trying to keep her at bay. “She’s…a friend, funnily enough.”

“Dorian!” Fearne bodily pushed past Orym - who protested something about manners - and over to Dorian to wrap him in a hug that picked him up off the ground. “I’m so glad you decided to take my advice on the lessons.”

“Wait.” Orym shut the door with a click. “Fearne, you’re the one who sent Dorian my way?”

“And she’s the neighbour you borrowed the concealer off?” Dorian asked, turning to Fearne.

“Oops,” She grinned and poked her own cheeks. Then something clicked and she turned on Orym. “Wait, Dorian is the guy you’ve been sleeping with?!”

Orym threw his hands up. “You’ve been spying and you didn’t even recognise your own friend?!”

“You’ve been spying on me?” Dorian demanded turning on Fearne.

“I couldn’t see his hair!” Fearne defended even as Orym cried, “He’s six foot and blue!” before she turned to Dorian. “And not on you personally, just on who Orym’s been bringing home.”

“That somehow doesn’t make me feel any less violated, Fearne,” Dorian rubbed at his face and then went for his bag. “Okay, I’m going home; this is too much for me.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to leave on my account,” Fearne said but Dorian was already halfway to the door. “I’ll go home and leave you two be, I’m sorry.”

He paused at the door, glancing down at Orym before back to Fearne. “No, no it’s not your fault, Fearne, I just, I need to get home. Beauty sleep and all that.”

“Let me know when you make it home safe?” Orym requested softly and Dorian nodded before swiftly exiting without a glance back.

Chapter Text

Stealing all the breath out of my lungs
Got me in the dark speaking in tongues
Tell me when did this stop being fun?
We're undone and uncomfortably numb

After a rather brief “I made it home safe” text from Dorian, Orym didn’t hear from him again for a couple of days and honestly, that tracked. The more time he spent with Dorian outside of their lessons, the more moments they had where the genasi let his walls fall just enough that Orym could get a peek inside, the more he began to realise just how complicated the man was. He didn’t want to say Dorian was damaged or traumatised but there was definitely something going on inside that brain that Orym had yet to come to understand. While he played the part of a confident, well-adjusted young man, inside there was so much anxiety and fear wound up around his heart that he was so afraid of something as simple as a kiss. To just be touched without it ending in sex. And Orym was trying, had been waiting for the moment Dorian came to him with it, let him know he was ready and he’d thought they’d almost been there the other night, right before Fearne had come barrelling in and scared him out the door.

For the third time in ten minutes, he looked down at the most recent messages on his phone.

As he powered off his phone again, there was a soft knock at the door and without thinking, he hopped over the back of the couch and padded over to answer it. Dorian stood framed in the doorway, dressed down comfortably in a slightly oversized jumper and leggings. He’d piled all his hair on top of his head and despite the very late hour - it was almost eleven thirty - was wearing sunglasses. Dorian also hadn’t even bothered to tie the laces of his shoes and kept hesitantly glancing up and down the corridor. Orym silently stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him. Before he could even ask what was wrong, Dorian had kicked off his shoes, tossed his sunglasses into the key bowl and sank down to Orym’s height. He wasn’t sure what he expected but it sure wasn’t for Dorian to throw his arms around his neck and pull him into a tight embrace, tucking his face into the curve of Orym’s shoulder.

Somehow the startled breath he let out didn’t spook Dorian away, so Orym carefully slid his hands around to soothe across his back, pressing in closer. Dorian was trembling ever so slightly under his palms and that worried him even more.

“Dorian, what happened?” Orym breathed against the side of his head. After a moment, Dorian laughed humourlessly.

“Bad day at work.” He pulled back and rubbed at his face. “I just…I don’t want to think about it. Take me to bed instead? Please?”

Orym bit back the remark that rose about how sex wasn’t a good way to deal with emotional issues, realising that it made him a bit of a hypocrite. Instead, he just nodded, pressed a kiss to his cheek and then dragged him along into the bedroom before he could process what had just happened. Dorian stumbled along after him and Orym wasn’t sure if it was the events of the evening that he wouldn’t talk about, or the kiss on the cheek that had him so off-kilter. Either way, they tumbled into the bedroom together and Orym hopped up to stand on the edge of the bed, drawing Dorian in by the collar of his shirt till their noses and foreheads met.

“What do you need from me?” He asked as Dorian grabbed him by the hips.

He watched Dorian wet his lips and not for the first time wondered what it would be like to wrestle with his tongue in his mouth.

“Will you lead?” The request caught him so off guard that he pulled back entirely, only to find Dorian watching his feet. “Just…do whatever you want to me.”

That felt dangerously self-destructive. But he’d already made it clear he wasn’t ready to talk about it and Orym wasn’t eager to push him out the door again. He chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek for a moment.

“Whatever I want, huh?” Dorian nodded. “Come here, then.”

It only took a little prompting to coax Dorian forward to kneel on the bed before him and even less to get him to strip off his jumper. He must have dressed in a hurry because he wasn’t wearing a shirt and there was still glitter splashed across his collarbones. That was going to be a bitch to get out of the bed sheets. But that was tomorrow's problem. Instead, he dragged Dorian down by the back of his neck so he could mouth at the column of his throat. Dorian’s hands squeezed at his hips and then his waist before Orym shoved up and tipped them to fall, spreading Dorian out on his back under him. Dorian shivered and clenched his fists - an odd response but perhaps he wasn’t used to being laid out on his back. By now he knew exactly how Dorian preferred it; quick and dirty and over before it had even really started. It was a sudden burst of fun to get the blood pumping and get that adrenaline-fueled high. But part of him wondered if he was only like that because no one had ever taught him how to take it slow.

He gently pinned Dorian’s hands up beside his head. “Keep those here for me?”

He waited until Dorian had nodded, even though an odd expression passed over his face beforehand, before Orym let go, sitting back and taking a moment to admire the long lines of his chest. Then he set to work, starting just under Dorian’s jawline with a few soft pecks before slowly but surely moving down his neck, each kiss a little more open-mouthed and languid, taking care that he wouldn’t leave a single mark.

“Why are you being soft again?” Dorian asked and Orym could feel the hum of his vocal cords under his lips.

“You said I could do what I wanted,” Orym countered, trailing two more kisses down to the dip of his collarbones. “So I’m doing what I want. If you don’t like it, then you can just leave.”

Dorian let his head fall back with a soft huff but made no move to indicate he wanted to leave. So Orym continued, working his way down past the glitter to his nipples, deciding to spend an extensive amount of time teasing them, tracing them with his tongue and working them up between his fingers. Only once he felt Dorian had had enough of that did he continue, taking his time to kiss whatever part of Dorian’s torso took his fancy, slowly working his way downwards until he came to a rest between Dorian’s thighs, facing down the rather obvious bulge that he’d been ignoring up until now. Dorian was more than eager to shift his hips up so Orym could peel him first out of his leggings, then his underwear. However, he didn’t dive right in straight away, instead taking time to shift Dorian’s thighs apart and bend his knees, settling in comfortably before finally putting his mouth on Dorian.

Dorian must have showered only quickly right before coming over, the faint smell of his body wash still lingering on his skin along with the taste of the vanilla lube he preferred to use, both still present when Orym ran his tongue down the back of his balls. Like everything he’d been doing this evening, he took his time with it, mouthing at the base of Dorian’s cock while he teased his fingers at his hole before switching to circle his cock with his hand and lazily pump as he sank lower with his mouth, curling his tongue against the sensitive skin there. He repeated that a few more times, swapping between teasing with his tongue and fingers, so that by the time he finally properly put his mouth around Dorian’s cock, it was fully hard and weeping and Dorian’s thighs were trembling.

Perhaps he might have spent just a little too long working Dorian up because it didn’t take much before he came undone, spilling into Orym’s mouth with a rolling moan like thunder. Satisfied with his job well done, Orym pulled off, wiping off his lips before crawling back up to sit on Dorian’s chest. He looked blissfully out of it, blinking slowly up at Orym before a dopey grin spread across his face.

“How are you feeling?” Orym asked, matching his smile.

“Good…better…” He mumbled before looking pointedly down at Orym’s crotch. “Your turn?”

“Not tonight,” Orym patted his cheek before flopping over to lay on his back beside Dorian, resting his hands on his stomach with a contented sigh. For a moment they lay there in what felt like companionable silence before Dorian shoved up onto his elbows.

“What do you mean, not tonight?”

Orym propped himself up on his elbows as well. “It means I’m not interested in getting off tonight.”

Dorian looked bewildered. “But you said I could come over?”

“And here you are?”

“Orym, that’s not funny.”

He sat up completely. “I don’t understand what the problem is here, Dorian.”

“I just don’t understand why you would agree to let me come over and then not get off as well. That’s what I’m here for after all, right?” Dorian pushed himself up on his hands. “Oh. Wait, do you like to get off later on the denial or something? I’ve had clients into that before.”

Orym rubbed roughly at the bridge of his nose, the irritation itching at the back of his head. “No that’s not it. I just…I don’t need to get off. What’s so hard to understand about that?”

“Uh, everything? Like that's the entire point, isn’t it?”

“No, it isn't!” Orym snapped. “Sex doesn’t have to always just be about getting off, Dorian. Sometimes it’s just nice to take care of your partner.”

“You don’t care-”

“You came barrelling into my home at almost midnight on a goddamn Conthsen when I have classes tomorrow, looking about five minutes away from falling to pieces and I dropped everything so I did something nice for you to make you feel better because I care about you, Dorian. I don’t know how I can be any more clear about that.”

Dorian pressed his lips together so tightly that they turned white.

“When is the last time you let someone else care for you? You, Dorian Storm, not Blue or whatever other personas you try and hide behind. You deserve to be taken care of.”

When Dorian turned away sharply, Orym continued, softer. “You do understand that, don’t you?”

After a long pause, Dorian finally spoke.

“You…don’t say shit like that.”

“Why?”

Dorian cursed and swung around to face him, suddenly grabbing a fistful of the front of Orym’s shirt.

“Because how the fuck am I supposed to hear you say things like that and then be okay when you finally decide to leave? Or when you decide I’m not enough anymore?”

On instinct, Orym grabbed both hands around Dorian’s wrist. “Why do you think I would leave?”

Dorian laughed bitterly. “Everyone always leaves Orym, once they got what they wanted.”

“I haven’t. I won’t.”

“You can’t expect me to believe that.”

He half-heartedly shoved Orym away, releasing his shirt and turning back. Orym quickly righted himself and leant over to jab Dorian in his sides, right where he knew he was ticklish. Dorian jumped with a curse, wheeling back around on Orym but he cut him off before he could start.

“If I only wanted to sleep with you to say that I did it with a pornstar, we would never have had a second time. If I only wanted to sleep with you to get back on the proverbial horse, we would have stopped weeks ago. If I only wanted to sleep with you, do you think I would be arguing this point with you this much right now?”

Dorian was shaking and Orym wasn’t sure if it was from anger or if he was about to cry.

“Your worth to me isn’t measured in how much sex I get out of it. Funnily enough, I actually enjoy just spending time with you and would like to do a lot more of it where we’re not naked!”

Dorian’s expression wavered and there was a moment where he wondered if he might have pushed too far and said too much.

“Fuck off.”

For two words, it was the most venomous thing Orym had ever heard come out of Dorian’s mouth.

“Hate to break it to you but this is my house.”

Dorian screwed up his nose, balling up his fists in the sheets for a moment before cursing and throwing himself off the bed and out of the room. Three seconds later, Orym heard the bathroom door slam shut with a force that threatened to rattle the windows. Or maybe that was just the fact he had a pissed-off air genasi in his house. Orym took a deep breath, willing himself to calm a bit before hopping off the bed and collecting up the few pieces of Dorian’s clothing, absently folding them onto the end of the bed, just to have something to do with his hands. Then he settled back against the headboard and waited. After ten minutes, he scooped his phone up off the bedside table and scrolled aimlessly through fanstagram, trying his best not to keep glancing back up at the door.

After twenty minutes, Dorian returned, still naked but with his hair down, nervously tugging at the hair tie on his wrist. Even from this distance, Orym could see his eyes were a little damp, like he’d been crying. The thought of Dorian crying alone in his bathroom tugged painfully at his heartstrings, but he’d said enough already. And when Dorian walked over to the pile of his folded clothes and began to get dressed in silence, Orym knew that it was over, whatever it had been. That Dorian was going to walk out and that would be the end of it; no coming back from that. So he tried to nonchalantly readjust himself back against the headboard, tried to get comfortable with the last remaining impression he’d have of his version of Dorian.

And then Dorian blindsided him by crawling up the bed and face-planting into his chest with an annoyed groan. Orym froze, even as Dorian slid his hands under and around his back, mushing his face even further into his chest. Slowly he lowered his hands to rest on Dorian’s shoulders and Dorian jolted a little, like he’d shocked him.

“I fucking hate you sometimes,” He suddenly grumbled into Orym’s shirt with no bite. Not like before. Orym chuckled, a mix of relief and amusement.

“I know. You annoy the shit out of me too.” He rubbed his thumbs along the line of Dorian’s shoulders and over the nape of his neck, absently massaging. Dorian shivered and melted a little under the touch.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Hm?” He blinked up at Orym blearily.

“About what was bothering you earlier, you wanna talk about it?”

“Oh…” Dorian lowered his gaze. “Not really.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He rested his chin on Orym’s chest. “That’s it, just okay?”

“I’m not going to force you to talk about something you don’t want to.”

“But you’ll read me for filth while I’m naked in your bed,” Dorian teased and Orym laughed, tucking back a stray lock of his hair.

“I’m not sorry for what I said because it’s the truth, but I probably could have handled that better.”

Dorian pressed his face back into his chest. “I guess I’m sorry for my behaviour.”

“You guess?” Orym gently teased, running a hand across Dorian’s scalp, watching as he shivered under the touch.

“I am sorry.” Dorian pushed himself up onto his elbows. “That was…cruel of me to say. I just…it’s hard for me, sometimes. Most times.”

“I know, Dorian.” Orym cupped his cheeks gently. “You can only run out of this room so many times before I start to see a pattern.”

Dorian flushed violet and for an instant, his gaze dropped to Orym’s lips before back to his eyes. And, oh, he did want that but as Dorian moved forwards, Orym brought him to a halt with two fingers on his lips. Dorian furrowed his brow.

“I don’t want our first kiss to be after an argument like that,” Orym said, gently pushing him back away.

“Then when?”

“When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” He caught Dorian’s chin and tilted his head so he could press a kiss to his cheek instead. “But for now you should head home and get some sleep.”

Dorian grinned weakly. “Not going to ask me to spend the night?”

“You and I both know that you want some space for a bit.”

“It’s scary how you do that.” Dorian swallowed and sat back with a sigh. “Alright. I’ll message you when I get home?”

“Please do.”

--

--

Dorian was surprisingly stressed about going over to Orym's. Despite the fact he'd been there more times than he could count in recent weeks, it had always been with the idea that the evening would end in sex. Now he wasn't so sure. Now everything felt a little different, a little unpredictable. Somehow, what was supposed to be his casual foray back into having sex with a real person, had backfired spectacularly into a situationship that was quickly heading off the rails. Orym had come at his carefully curated walls with a sledgehammer, knowing all the right things to say to get him to snap and break and yet at the end of it, soothed him back into himself and never made him feel like he was less for it. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had cared about him like this and it was terrifying, especially the thought of it going south, because now he was invested.

He liked Orym. And it surprised him to find it was not only for the sex. He liked Orym’s dumb dad jokes and liked the way he smiled when Dorian flirted obnoxiously with him. Most of all he liked the way Orym made him feel when he was around. Dorian kind of liked the version of him that Orym brought out. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually had so much fun spending time with someone and not getting tired of them. And never in a million years would he have admitted to such vulnerability before with a bed partner. Then Orym had come along. But as much as it scared him, something about him felt safe. Maybe it was the same vibe he’d picked up when he’d first decided Orym would be a suitable fuck. Something about him was just so easy to trust.

He’d dressed comfortably again - sometimes it was nice just to wear a pair of leggings and a jumper - but had gone with a braid instead and just worn slip-on shoes this time. But still, the nerves swirled around in his gut. Then the door opened and Orym greeted him with a warm smile.

“Hey. I got us some takeout for dinner; hope you like noodles.”

“That sounds like a bad pun,” Dorian teased, closing the door behind him as Orym laughed.

“I promise you, they’re really good noodles. My friend Ash recommended the place and they were right; best in town.”

From there, it was easy to let Orym guide him over to the couch where the promised food was already waiting, along with a selection of DVDs - of course, Orym didn’t have streaming services - and he let Dorian have his choice. Meanwhile Orym tried, and failed, to look like he was more interested in his food than what movie Dorian was deciding on. Eventually, Dorian set aside both Fellowship of the Ring and Tombstone - they were both too long anyway - and he’d already seen Robin Hood and Princess Bride enough times before. While The Wedding Singer looked interesting, he was more intrigued by the cover of Roxanne and when he held the case out to Orym with a confident “This one.” something in Orym’s returning grin made him feel like he’d made a good choice.

“Have you seen Roxanne before?” Orym asked, accepting the case before scooping up all the rejected choices to put them aside.

“No, so I have no idea what I’m in for.”

Once Orym had set everything up, they settled back into opposite ends of the couch with their respective noodle boxes and let the movie play. Dorian was actually surprised at how much he enjoyed it. Some of the jokes were a little on the nose - pun intended - but it was a fun movie that he could tell Orym adored very much. After eating his fill of noodles, Orym had put his box back on the coffee table and focused back on the movie completely, curled up against the armrest, his cheek adorably squished against his hand. With both sets of their legs tucked up onto the cushions, there wasn’t much space left between them. If Dorian stretched his leg out just so, he could poke Orym in the thigh with his toe.

He kind of wanted to cuddle with him again but like this, there was no real clear opening as to how. Last time, it had been easy just to face plant down into his chest and he didn’t want to give Orym the wrong impression, like he wasn’t paying attention to the movie, which granted, now he realised he wasn’t. He turned back to stare down into his food like it had the answers he needed, and when that didn’t work, he placed it down on the coffee table and sat back with his arms crossed, trying not to feel like an idiot. Failing that he finally caved and reached across the space between them, placing a hand on Orym’s foot. He felt Orym jostle a little under the touch, like he’d startled him, but he didn’t move away. So Dorian moved his hand up a little further onto his calf. That was when Orym’s hand came down on top of his. Dorian glanced up to find Orym already watching him with a little grin.

He didn’t say anything though, just gently wormed his hand under Dorian’s, flipping it over to press their palms together before he laced his fingers through Dorian’s much longer ones. Dorian sucked in a short, sharp breath. It wasn’t like they’d never held hands before but usually, it was a much different set of circumstances; namely, him pinning Orym down to the nearest surface. It was kind of nice though, it didn’t feel like it had any expectations attached and Orym’s hand was warm and familiar. Then he caught sight of the fond expression that had worked its way onto Orym’s face. That felt far more weighty than he was ready for but he still curled his fingers around Orym’s and turned his attention back to the movie. It wasn’t exactly the cuddle he’d wanted but this worked too.

At some point, Orym had begun absently tracing his thumb over the back of Dorian’s knuckles and it was slowly driving him insane. Every nerve was alight and he was very much holding himself at bay from leaping across the couch and ravishing Orym on the spot. He had a feeling he could get away with it too, now that the movie was over and the credits were rolling. But he held his ground as Orym yawned and flexed before giving his hand a firm squeeze.

“What did you think?”

“Good, I enjoyed it. It was pretty funny and I see why you would like it.” Dorian squeezed back and Orym smiled.

“What do you reckon? We could watch something else or just call it a night here.”

Dorian considered for a moment. “I should probably head home. I told my friends that if they got drunk tonight they could crash at mine so I better actually be home when they finally stumble by.”

Orym nodded and chuckled. “I can understand that. A few of my friends have a standing arrangement with my couch like that.”

Somehow they managed to walk to the door together, still holding hands. It was only when Dorian pointed out that he couldn’t put his shoes on like that, that Orym finally blushed red and let go with a nervous laugh. It was kind of nice to know that perhaps Orym was just as nervous as he was. Once his shoes were back on he knelt down to Orym’s height and hesitated. What was the appropriate thing to do here? Should he offer a hug? A kiss? In the end, he settled on just holding out both his hands for Orym to take, gripping on tight.

“I…I had fun tonight. Maybe next time I’ll bring by some of my sci-fi stuff and we can watch that?”

“Sure, I’ll try anything once.”

Dorian snorted. “Don’t I know.”

Orym laughed and shook his head. Dorian chewed his lip for a moment, considering, before quickly leaning forward, and he could think better of it, pressed a kiss to Orym’s cheek.

“So…I’ll see you on Whelsen?” He said hurriedly as he pulled back, his anxiety kicking into high gear.

Orym blinked slowly, then smiled. “Yeah. Whelsen.”

Dorian squeezed his hands one final time with a nervous smile before climbing to his feet and letting go. He waved as he pulled the door over behind him, catching one last glimpse of Orym raising a hand in return. Then the door was shut. Hand still on the doorknob Dorian took a deep breath before heading on his way. Unsurprisingly, he shook and stumbled a little all the way down the corridor to the end, where the elevator was. It was only as he reached for the call button that he realised this was the first time he’d left Orym’s apartment without either of them getting off in some way, shape or form. It felt odd. Uncomfortable. Like he’d failed Orym in some way, even though he knew that Orym wouldn’t agree with that logic. But it still felt wrong. And he couldn’t leave when his stomach was turning knots thinking about it.

Cursing himself he turned and marched back to Orym’s door, knocking hurriedly. There were only a few brief moments before Orym answered, looking up at him in confusion.

“Hey…again. Did you forget something?”

“I just…tonight was okay, right?” He bounced nervously on his heels.

Orym blinked. “Yeah? Tonight was great. I don’t normally do take-out so it was kind of a treat for me too.”

He felt like tearing out his hair.

“But we didn’t even do anything!” It was a struggle to keep himself from sounding hysterical. “I just- just sat on your couch and ate food that you bought and we watched a movie and held hands and that can’t, that can’t have been enough; I didn’t even do anything for you-”

“Dorian.”

Orym grabbed his wrists and tugged. Immediately he sank to his knees willingly, letting Orym collect him up in a tight hug. Dorian instantly wrapped his arms back around Orym, burying his face into his shoulder as a hand tangled into his loose braid.

“Dorian,” Orym murmured exasperatedly and fondly. “Dorian, you don’t have to do anything for me. I told you, I just like spending time with you.”

That still felt like a lie. “I’d give you anything you asked for.”

Orym sighed. “I know. That’s what scares me.”

“What do you mean?” Dorian asked. Orym gave him a squeeze.

“You can’t keep giving away pieces of yourself like this, Dor, someday you won’t have anything left to give and where will you be then?” He pressed a kiss to the side of Dorian’s head. “When you come here, I don’t expect you to be useful. When you come here, I’m just happy that you’re here. You know?”

Dorian frowned deeply and pulled Orym in tighter. There Orym went again, pulling at the tightly constructed stitches he’d been using to keep himself together. For a long moment, they were silent, Dorian not letting go and Orym not stepping back. Then Dorian found his voice again.

“I wanted to cuddle like this with you all evening.”

“Yeah?” Orym absently rocked them side to side. “Why didn’t you ask then?”

“I…I don’t know how.”

The rocking stopped.

“...that’s why you were touching my leg.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Orym pulled him back so they were face-to-face. “You don’t have to apologise for that. You were so…uncomfortable about it last time I didn’t want to suggest it or assume. But you don’t have to be afraid of asking for things like that from me, okay? I’d rather you asked in the weirdest way possible than leave here wishing it had happened.”

Dorian closed his eyes and shook his head. “You must think-”

“What I think is that a lot of people have taken advantage of you at some point in your life and it’s made you afraid. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

He swallowed. “You’re the most terrifying person I’ve ever met.”

“And why’s that?” Orym tucked back a stray lock of hair and Dorian leant into the touch.

“In six months, you’ve managed to crawl so far under my skin that we’re even having this conversation. What could you do with a year? Two years even?”

Orym smiled. “Thinking so long term already?”

Dorian flushed. “Oh! I mean, it's just…”

“I’m joking, Dorian. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s…it’s okay. Uh,” Dorian cleared his throat. “This is why you’re scary; the way you just…get me talking?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so terrifying,” Orym rubbed at Dorian’s upper arms soothingly.

“It’s okay.” Dorian bumped their heads together gently. Orym chuckled fondly.

“So, are you going to linger in my doorway all evening, or are you going to come back in and get some proper cuddles?”

Dorian furrowed his brow. “You mean I can-”

Orym smushed his cheeks. “Yes. Now, are you staying or going?”

“Staying.” His mouth was quicker than his brain but he couldn’t find it in him to regret it. Not when Orym smiled at him and took a step back.

“Come on in then.”

It was far too easy to shed his shoes again, to toss them onto the rack before scooping up the laughing Orym and tossing him over his shoulder. Dorian then walked them both over to the couch and deposited his prize, letting him get comfortable before following after, happily burying his face into Orym’s chest and curling his arms back around him tightly. Orym flicked on the satellite TV as background noise and Dorian was perfectly content to lay there for as long as Orym let him. Which turned out to be a mistake on both their parts when Dorian was startled awake several hours later by his phone ringing loudly in his back pocket. He groaned, shoving himself up and off Orym, who blinked blearily awake as well, yawning.

“What's the time?” He asked as Dorian dug out his phone.

“Three am,” He reported before answering the call. “Hello?”

“DORIAN!” He instantly flinched back from the phone as Opal’s voice cut through the last of the fog of sleep. “WHERE ARE YOU?? YOU’RE NOT HOME??”

Dorian looked up to watch as Orym wandered over to the windows and began to check the locks, almost methodically.

“I’m…at a friend’s place.” He reported watching Orym trail along, checking each lock before vanishing into the next room. “You know where the food is and the booze is. Help yourself.”

He hung up, but not before he caught “WHAT DO YOU MEAN A FRIEND’S PL-” as her voice cut off. Orym then wandered back in to check the locks on the front door before he turned to Dorian.

“It’s late,” Dorian said, then thought about it. “Or early, I guess.”

“You…wanna stay?” Orym asked uncertainly and after a moment, Dorian nodded. “Well, you know where the bedroom is.”

Dorian hopped over the back of the couch and over to the door, waiting by it with a hand out towards him. Orym smiled, took the offered hand and let Dorian lead him to bed.

Chapter Text

We've been stuck now so long
We just got the start wrong
One more last try, I'ma get the ending right
You can’t stop this, and I must insist that you haven't had enough
You haven't had enough

Waking up the next morning was an experience in and of itself. Firstly, Dorian couldn’t remember the last time in the past few years he’d slept anywhere overnight other than his own apartment, so blinking open to unfamiliar surroundings instantly set off that first jolt of anxiety. Then the realisation came that not only had he just slept over at a new place, but specifically at Orym’s place. His guy-he-was-seeing, kind of friends-with-benefits situationship that was still technically his pole instructor. It was a mess he’d landed face-first into and yet when he finally laid eyes on Orym, curled in the crescent of his body, already wide awake and absently scrolling through his social media, his fears felt a little bit calmed. He curled in around him a little tighter, feeling Orym start a little at the sudden movement.

“Morning,” Orym murmured and Dorian hummed. “Did you sleep well?”

He considered for a moment. “...Yeah. I did.”

“Good, good,” Orym said absently before turning his head to look up at Dorian. “Did you want some breakfast?”

Dorian smirked and snuck down to press a kiss to the hollow under his ear. “Only if you’re on the menu.”

Orym snorted a laugh but it soon turned to a low groan when Dorian palmed his hand over his groin, finding the already half-interested morning wood there. Slowly he eased his hand under the waistband of Orym’s trackies and when he made a soft encouraging noise, Dorian pushed them out of the way completely. He wrapped his hand around Orym’s cock, stroking him lazily while he sucked a hickey into the curve of his shoulder. Time kind of slipped away into nothing but the soft gasps and moans as he worked Orym up and over the precipice, the halfling trembling as he came into his hand. They lay there quietly for a few moments before Orym stretched, the bones in his back creaking and popping before he relaxed again completely.

“Did you want…?” Orym finally asked, looking up at Dorian and even to his own surprise, he shook his head.

“Na. This was…this.” He pressed his face down into Orym’s neck.

“Okay.” Orym hummed and petted his hair gently. “But you still didn’t answer my question. Did you want some actual breakfast? I have toast or weetbix or we can order in if that doesn’t take your fancy.”

“...toast is fine.”

After cleaning up the mess they’d made and after Dorian had managed to suck another bruise into Orym’s collarbone, the halfling shooed him off to take a shower and freshen up. Dorian eagerly took the opportunity to wash off the sweat of sleep, even if he was dressed back into his own clothes again afterwards. It still felt nice to, in theory, be clean, even if when he got home, he would just shower again. Though he did retie his hair up into a high bun instead. Just as he was padding down the hallway quietly, wondering if Opal and Dariax would still be passed out in his apartment, he heard Orym’s voice from the direction of the front door.

“Ash? Grass? What are you guys doing here?”

Dorian froze in his step, hovering uncertainly as an unfamiliar, gravelly voice replied to Orym, sounding annoyed.

"Laudna called Grass and said you cancelled class this morning."

Another voice chipped in, higher and more robotic.

"She was real worried you might have been really sick like last time, you know, when you had bronchitis and didn't tell anyone."

"I'm fine, guys, really, just…had something come up."

"Yeah, I can see. Nice hickey." The deeper voice teased and Orym cursed. "Is your boy toy here? Is that why you're skipping out on Laud's class?"

"He's not-!" Orym’s voice quickly got softer. "He's not my boy toy and it's not like that, Ashton. If it's any consolation, I feel terrible about the class being cancelled but I needed to be here."

"Hey, I'm not judging, we're just here to make sure you're not dying again. As far as I can see, mission fucking accomplished."

Orym sighed. "If I promise to text Laudna and let her know I'm fine, will you please leave quickly? I don't know how much longer he's going to take in the bathroom and the last time he met one of my friends, he bolted."

"Yeah, he fucking looked skittish from what Fearne showed me."

"From what she-" Orym cut himself off sharply. "Shit, how much did she tell you?"

"Not much, said he did the same kinda thing she does with OnlyHeroes and then showed me a couple of photos of his work. You should know she’s taking credit for hooking you two up.”

Orym snorted. “Of course she is.”

“We’re sorry to have bothered you, Orym,” said the robotic voice - Grass he supposed. “We’ll leave you to your mornin'. Remember to make good choices and practise safe sex-"

"He’s fucking a pornstar, Grass, I don’t think he needs the safe sex spiel-"

"Would you two please go?"

The gravelly voice of Ash laughed loudly before the door shut and there was silence once more. Dorian hesitated, not even breathing out of fear Orym would hear him and throw him out for eavesdropping. He waited a few seconds longer for the sound of Orym moving before he started to move as well. However, he misinterpreted where Orym was going and they collided at the corner, Orym bouncing off his legs. Instantly, Orym’s eyes were on him and while he tried to school his face into something pleasant, he knew he’d been caught when Orym sighed a little.

“How much did you hear?”

“Uh…just…some of it.” Dorian rubbed at the back of his neck. “Maybe most of it? Definitely something about you skipping classes because of me.”

“I didn’t…” Orym pinched the bridge of his nose. “… it's my damn class, I should be able to cancel it without it turning into an interrogation.”

“Well, why didn’t you just go? I would have been alright; you could have left me a message or something. My car’s a block down; that's not very far for a walk of shame, all things considered.”

Orym hesitated with his mouth open for a moment. “I…didn’t want you to have to wake up alone. The idea of that felt…wrong.”

Dorian blinked, a little surprised. “Oh. Well…that’s…really sweet of you. But next time, it’s fine, go do your classes. I know that they’re your livelihood and I don’t want to stand in the way of that.”

Orym looked him up and down for a moment. “Next time?”

He flushed. “I mean…if there’s a next time, I make no assumptions or anything-"

"Dorian," Orym said gently, taking his hands and knotting their fingers together. "You can stay over whenever you like. You just have to ask."

"Oh…okay." He squeezed Orym's hands and swallowed. "Okay."

"Breakfast time?"

Dorian nodded. "Yeah, breakfast time."

--

--

Orym had to admit that he was pretty impressed with how far Dorian had improved in the few months they’d been training together. He’d picked up the basics and even a lot of the more intermediate stuff quickly and they’d even come up with a short routine that was a mix of both that he was pretty confident performing now. So when Dorian asked if he thought it would be okay to film something next week, he was eager to agree and encourage. This was what they had been working towards after all, even if it caused a minor worry in the back of his mind about what would happen when Dorian no longer wanted to take classes. But he shoved that aside in favour of being positive, helping make plans for where the lighting could go and what angles Dorian might want to set up to film. He would have to make sure the studio was spotless next week, but that was easy enough to do.

“So what’s the plan for tonight, Dor?” Orym asked as they exited the studio and Dorian pulled on his shoes.

“Well, have you had dinner yet?”

“Not yet, but I could eat.” Orym slid on his shoes. “I think I have some chicken defrosted in my fridge. I could make us some wraps or something?”

Dorian hesitated. “Actually…um…whydontyoucomeovertomyplace.”

Ormy blinked. “What?”

“Come over to my place?” Dorian repeated, still tripping over the words, but at least Orym understood them this time.

“Oh.” He gripped the strap of his bag. “I mean, if you’re sure.”

“I…yes. Yes. I’ll order take-out for us and I can show you where I live because I want you to come over.”

“Okay.” Orym could practically see the anxiety pouring out of Dorian. “How do we get there then?”

“I’ll drive. Uh, let's go?”

“Lead the way.”

Dorian was unnaturally quiet for most of the drive across town. Orym was barely paying attention to where they were going, ending up watching the sweat droplets down the back of Dorian’s neck and the restless jiggle of his leg not on the accelerator. If he was honest, he’d resigned himself to never being invited over to Dorian’s place, so the fact that Dorian had offered out of the blue like this had been rather a surprise. Maybe it was a good sign; maybe they were slowly heading towards the same page, whatever that page turned out to be. He was past the point of pretending he hadn’t developed feelings for Dorian; they were there, tucked into the recesses of the cracks of his being now, buried under his skin so deeply that to pick them out would only be to harm himself. And he would try if he was reading the signs wrong, but he had a feeling he wasn’t.

Dorian then pulled into the locked underground parking lot of his building and showed Orym the way over to the elevator. With a swipe of the card on his ring of keys, he summoned it and offered for Orym to setp in first. And then they went up, eight floors he counted, before Dorian led him down the corridor, all the way to the end. He paused with the key in the lock, right before opening the door.

“It’s…a little messy? And um, might not be what you expected?”

Orym just silently raised an eyebrow. Dorian had seen Orym’s apartment in every stage of cleanliness, or lack thereof, by now; nothing was going to phase him. So with a steading sigh, Dorian finally unlocked the door and pushed it open, bustling in to quickly dump his bag onto the couch before turning to watch Orym as he finally stepped in through the door. He’d been able to tell just from the outside of the building that this was one of the more upscale apartment blocks the city had to offer. However, the living room he stepped into was about twice the size of his own, with extremely nice, matching furniture, a big TV, and an entire wall that was just floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out to the city. He knew Dorian was well off, but perhaps he’d underestimated just how well off. So he turned his attention to the rest of what he could see, like the adjoined kitchen a little further in, with smooth marble countertops and matching appliances and beyond that, a hallway he imagined led to the bedrooms and bathroom.

“It’s…a lot I know.” Dorian nervously wrung his hands together. “There’s only like two other condos on this floor, ‘cause they’re all about this size and…yeah. I’ll give you a quick tour, show you where things are?”

“Uh, yeah.” Orym dumped his bag alongside Dorian’s on the couch and let himself be led down the corridor. Dorian opened up two of the doors to show him where the toilet was and had a quick peek inside the ridiculously large and luxurious bathroom with a built-in spa bath and a shower and also more of those wall-to-floor windows, though these were tinted to prevent being seen through.

“So, that's the bathroom, toilet, and uh,” Dorian paused in front of one of the remaining closed doors. “This is my…office I guess you could call it. I would…prefer to keep this door shut for now?”

“Sure, that’s understandable.”

Dorian seemed to relax a little bit at that. “And then this is my room.”

He turned and opened the final door. Inside was a neatly decorated bedroom, with a few personal items scattered around the place and the biggest bed Orym had ever seen. The windows in here were curtained, though he imagined they were the same as all the others he’d seen.

“So yeah…that’s my house.” Dorian swung his arms awkwardly, nervously watching for his reaction.

“It’s…big.” Orym said, for lack of a better term. “And it’s beautiful and you really live here by yourself?”

“Yeah. Since I moved out of home. Cyrus helped me with all the applications for it and everything. He was always better at the paperwork than I was.”

“Cyrus?” Orym asked, confused.

“Oh, my brother. Did…have I really not mentioned him before now?” Dorian bit his lip. “Yeah, I have a brother, couple of years older; his name is Cyrus.”

Orym tucked that information away. “You guys still in contact?”

“Yeah, we talk occasionally when he’s free but he doesn’t live here in Marquet so we haven’t seen each other for a few years. I think I have a picture here somewhere.”

Dorian breezed into his bedroom and over to his shelves. After a moment, he returned with a framed photo and handed it to Orym. In the picture were two handsome young genasi men standing side by side, one of them immediately identifiable as Dorian with his longer hair, though he noted it lacked the ombre. The other figure was similar, if a little taller with shoulder-length hair and turned slightly towards Dorian, looking as if he were in the midst of telling a bad joke. Dorian's face was screwed up as if trying his best not to laugh.

"We didn't…always get along growing up but once we got older, we actually built something of a friendship." Orym handed him back the frame. "That was one of the last photos we took together before he got shipped off to law school. Not long after, I moved out here to Marquet and we haven't seen each other since. Our parents didn't like this photo, so I snagged it before they could toss it."

Orym didn't ask. It sounded like there was a lot more to the story, but it wasn't his place to know. Maybe someday Dorian would tell him, when he was ready to. Instead, Orym watched him put the photo back on the shelf and stare at it for a moment before he turned back to Orym.

“Do you have any siblings?”

Orym smiled. “Yeah. I have three sisters, actually. Berenie, Lita, and Maeve. Triplets.”

“Oh, wow, older?”

“Yeah, a bit older than me. They’re all back home in Zephrah with my Ma and their mother, Nell. But she’s like my mother too; she practically helped raise me.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” Dorian twisted his hands together. “Zephrah is a long way though.”

Orym nodded. “I haven’t seen them in…a long time. But we keep in touch. And if you think I’m bad with technology, my Ma is way worse, so she’s where I get it from.”

Dorian laughed brightly. “I’m sure she’s just as lovely as you.”

Then he paused as if he’d just realised what he’d said. So Orym bit the bullet.

“Nowhere near as lovely as you are.”

Dorian flushed indigo. “Come here.”

Orym was across the room quicker than he could think, leaping up into Dorian’s waiting arms to be squeezed tightly in a warm embrace before he found himself being dropped down onto the mattress, Dorian’s weight landing on top of him. Dorian shuffled a little to get his legs under him so he could sit up, looking down at Orym with a hand pressed flat on his chest.

“I was right, you do look good in my sheets.”

Orym chuckled and covered Dorian’s hand with his own. “Menace.”

Dorian grinned and pulled out his phone. He tapped at the screen thoughtfully for a moment before leaning over to rest it on his bedside table.

“Food will be here in about half an hour, so I have exactly that long to fuck you legless.”

“Grand ambitions you have there,” Orym laughed as Dorian coaxed him further into the bed, settling him back in the pillows while Dorian hovered over him.

“And I intend to act on them. These, off, now.”

Orym laughed and let Dorian strip him down eagerly until their clothes were mixed together in a pile on the floor. Dorian then pressed him down into the sheets and he basked in the skin-on-skin contact as they rutted against one another for a moment. However, they were on a time crunch and Dorian was soon pulling out the lube so he could work Orym open, lazily sucking a bruise onto his chest in the meantime. Orym didn’t think he’d ever get used to this, to the idea that for whatever reason, out of anyone else, Dorian had chosen him to invite into his home and into his bed. That maybe what had started out as meaningless sex, was becoming more. And with these new developments that he’d picked up just from the time he’d been in Dorian’s home, his view and understanding of Dorian was shifting again.

Then Dorian folded him in half and all logical thought flew out of his head as the genasi proceeded to pound him into the mattress. He had enough of a brain cell left not to dig his nails in as he clutched hold onto Dorian’s back. Meanwhile Dorian kept a tight grip on his hips, holding Orym exactly where he wanted him to nail his prostate repeatedly, slowly but surely driving him insane as the pleasure mounted. It didn’t help that Dorian had gone from working a bruise into his neck to nibbling on his ear. Then he had the nerve to murmur a sweet “You gunna come untouched for me?” that finally unravelled Orym with a startled, broken moan as he did just that. Dorian laughed brightly and fucked him through it, never breaking pace until he stumbled after him, coming with a groan into the curve of Orym’s shoulder.

He pressed a few soft kisses to the side of Dorian's head as he caught his breath, both of them slowly coming down. For once, Dorian didn't draw away right after, letting his weight rest on Orym for a bit, seeming to just enjoy the closeness, drifting kisses along his neck. Though Orym soon reminded him that if he stayed there too long, the come smeared between them would stick them together and neither of them wanted that. So with a soft, annoyed groan, like it was an inconvenience that Orym had made a mess, Dorian sat back and looked down at him with a loose grin. Then he absently combing back Orym's sweat-soaked hair from his face for him. On the bedside, Dorian’s phone dinged, alerting them to the arrival of their food.

In the end, Dorian was the one who had to retrieve the food from the doorstep, Orym still basking in the middle of the bed, aptly legless as promised. Dorian returned in short order with a paper bag, a couple of glasses and a bottle of soft drink. Orym forced himself to sit up and take the offered bag of food, glancing in to see what looked to be two wrapped burritos and what he assumed were nachos and dip. As he set aside the bag and dug out the food, Dorian poured them both a drink and then traded it for his burrito. After drinking his fill, Orym set his glass on the bedside table and went for the nachos.

They ate in comfortable silence for the most part, other than Dorian bemoaning cheekily the amount of crumbs Orym was leaving in his sheets with the nachos. Then the meal was over and Dorian’s leg began that nervous jiggle again. Orym took that as his cue to slip off the bed, testing how seaworthy his legs were before scooping up his clothes to get redressed. Dorian just watched quietly, only reaching out once to readjust his collar for him.

"I should head off," Orym said softly and Dorian nodded absently. "Uhm, only thing is I'm all the way across town and uh-"

Dorian reanimates suddenly. "Oh, shit. Right. I'll, uh, I'll grab my keys and drop you home."

Orym chuckled and watched as Dorian scrambled from the room and he hurried after, not wanting to get left behind. After collecting their bags and packing themselves into the car, Dorian drove them back across town, looking a little more relaxed now, probably between the food and the sex and the fact Orym was out of his space again. It had taken a lot of courage for him to do that, and Orym was silently proud of him.

When they pulled up outside of Orym's building, he turned to Dorian with a smile.

"Thanks for driving me home. Next time I'll make sure I know the bus routes to get back."

Dorian frowned. "You don't need to apologise, I kind of sprung this one on you without warning. I'll always be happy to drive you home after."

"Such a gentleman," Orym teased and Dorian blushed. "Just promise me something when you get home?"

"Yes, I will message you when I get home."

"But also, check the locks before bed?"

Dorian blinked. "Okay?"

"Windows and doors." He tried to press how serious it was that he checked both.

"Orym, I live eight stories up, why would I need to check the locks on the windows?"

"Just…please promise me you will?"

Dorian pursed his lips. "Alright. Alright, I promise."

Orym breathed out heavily through his nose and nodded. "Thank you. We'll talk soon, yeah?"

He reached for the door handle, but Dorian was quicker, cupping his jaw and turning him back around to face him. He saw what was coming, but it still took him by surprise as Dorian craned over and suddenly kissed him. It was little more than a single, firm press of lips, like he was unsure what he was doing, but Orym leant into it anyway, as far as he could. But Dorian didn't linger long, pulling away hurriedly to settle back in the driver's seat. Orym could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed, had his heart not gone racing. They stared at one another for a moment, Dorian's hands wringing the steering wheel nervously.

"Bye," Dorian then said abruptly. Orym startled and took his cue to open the door and hop out onto the street.

"Um, drive safe?" Orym offered, feeling his cheeks suddenly burn. Dorian nodded before he shut the door.

Orym then took a step back from the curb, watching as Dorian smoothly pulled out into the road and drove away. He waited a few more seconds, until the car was out of sight, before his legs gave out and he crouched down on the sidewalk, covering his face as he felt it flush red. He’d been sleeping with Dorian for months now, why was he so flustered about just a simple kiss? Admittedly, it was their first one if he didn’t count the one Fearne had interrupted - which felt fair to discount seeing as it hadn’t really been a proper kiss. But this one had been undeniable. Tonight had been a whirlwind of firsts, of new and exciting things brewing. Dorian had invited him over, had opened up a little about his family and topped the evening off with a kiss. And while Orym wasn’t sure where this path was heading, but he was excited to follow it anyway.

--

It was Grissen afternoon when Dorian texted Orym to let him know that he’d come down with something and wanted to cancel their next session just in case. Orym could understand that and wished for him to feel better soon, still expecting Dorian to keep in touch. However, by Folsen, having not heard anything from him, Orym began to worry and decided to reach out first, shooting him a quick message after his classes for the day were finished. What he received back was the blurriest dick pic he’d ever seen with the accompanying misspelled text ‘come jump in that’ and he knew that Dorian was still sick. Very sick, apparently.

Then he began to wonder; Dorian didn’t really have any family in the city and who knew what his friends were up to. Orym had never met them after all, they might be busy. But thinking about Dorian, trying to look after himself alone when he was clearly out of it made his stomach churn. And he knew where Dorian lived now, he’d been gifted that knowledge, but he didn’t want to immediately abuse it.

Dorian

Today 2:34pm
Dor, can I bring you anything?
soup? medicine?
can you bring me you?

Once he’d figured out the bus routes and retrieved the things he needed - chicken soup from his favourite take-out and medicine for whatever Dorian might need - Orym made his way across town to Dorian’s apartment block. It occurred to him only once he’d arrived that he hadn’t actually seen the front of the building the last time he was here, having gone with Dorian into the underground parking lot and up the elevator from there. He entered the front lobby, taking in the beautiful open space with a service desk and a doorman sitting behind it. Across the way were two elevators and immediately Orym realised there was a problem. The elevators required a card to swipe to access them and he did not have that. So instead, he padded over to the desk and poked his head up to catch the doorman's attention. The older Dragonborn looked down his nose at him curiously.

“Hi, I have a delivery for apartment 803. Can you let me up please?” He showed him the bags he was carrying.

The Dragonborn gave him a hard look over before nodding and standing, swiping his card so the doors would swing open for him.

“Thank you,” Orym said politely, slipping into the elevator and selecting the eighth floor. “Have a good evening.”

After the short elevator ride up, Orym knocked on Dorian’s door, waiting for a full two minutes before he knocked again. When he got no response the second time, he pulled out his phone and shot Dorian a message, letting him know it was him knocking. Then it was back to waiting. After a long moment, he heard shambling footsteps, followed by the sound of the deadbolt before the door creaked open just enough that he was able to catch his first glimpse of Dorian in three days. He looked like shit, if Orym was honest. There were deep bags under his eyes, his hair was an absolute disaster and he had a tissue shoved up each nostril. He was also swaying dangerously on the spot, only held up between the grip he had on the door handle and the frame. At least he was wearing clothes, boxers and a singlet that looked like he’d sweated through it. Then he smiled wildly.

“Orym,” Dorian slurred, opening the door wider. “You came!”

“Yeah, hi Dorian,” Orym gently nudged him back into the apartment so he could slip in and shut the door behind him. “I brought you some soup and some medicine-”

Orym cut off as Dorian suddenly scooped him up off the ground and cuddled him into his chest like a teddy bear. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Orym patted his back awkwardly, trying not to drop his bag with the soup in it. “Let's get you back to bed, okay?”

“Of course you wanna be in my bed,” Dorian mumbled with a smirk before starting to stumble off, still holding Orym.

“Put me down first!” Orym pleaded as they nearly crashed into the floating counter of the kitchen when Dorian misstepped and under-adjusted to dodge, not accounting for Orym’s extra weight. Thankfully, this incident inspired Dorian to put him back on his feet and take his hand instead, letting Orym guide him back down the corridor to his room, where he stumbled across and collapsed face-first into his bed. Every part of Dorian he’d touched so far had been burning hot and Orym didn’t need to take his temperature to know he had a fever. How long had he been like this? When was the last time he’d eaten? Did he even have any medicine? He quickly crossed the room, putting his purchases by the edge of the bed before crawling up after Dorian and poking him over to lay on his back on the pillows.

“Dorian, how are you feeling?” Orym asked, even as Dorian plucked the tissues out of his nose and tossed them aside, watching them flutter down to the ground off the side of the bed.

“Hot,” Dorian said, plucking at his shirt. “You’re hotter, though.”

“Have you had any medicine today?” Orym retrieved his bag from the pharmacy and looked through his options, digging out the ibuprofen and the cold medicine he’d brought.

“Ran out…two? Two days ago?”

Orym turned on him. “Why didn’t you ring me? I would have come earlier!”

Dorian waved his hand dismissively. “’m fine, just a cold.”

“Dorian, these sheets are damp from how much you’ve been sweating. You have a fever and you must be dehydrated as hell.”

“Nope!” Dorian leaned over the side of the bed and plucked up an empty water bottle. “Oh. I swear this was full just before.”

Orym sighed and snatched the bottle before ducking off quickly to go refill it. By the time he returned, Dorian was sitting up against the headboard and had shed his shirt. Orym turned the fan on low before returning to the bed, passing Dorian the filled water bottle and coaxing him to take sips and not scull it like he was attempting to. It was like looking after a child three times his size, trying to wrestle the water back so he wouldn’t accidentally waterboard himself. Just because he didn’t need to breathe didn’t mean he couldn't drown himself if too much water got into his lungs. Once Orym had gotten water in him, he retrieved the ibuprofen and popped two into Dorian’s hand. Thankfully, he swallowed them down with a couple of sips of water and no issues - Orym wasn’t sure how he would have gone if Dorian hadn’t been able to take those.

The real problem presented itself, however, when Orym poured Dorian a dose of cold medicine and then passed it to him. Dorian pulled a face and tried to pass it back.

“Dor, you need to take it,” Orym coaxed, pushing it back toward him.

“It’s the gross stuff.”

“It’s cold medicine, it’s all gross.”

“I don’t want it,” Dorian shoved it back at him, threatening to spill it everywhere. Orym sighed.

“What will it take for you to drink this?”

Dorian frowned, thinking for a long moment. So long, in fact, that Orym began to wonder if he’d lost the train of thought completely. Then he startled back into himself.

“You should get naked.”

Orym spluttered. “What.”

“I'll drink it if you get naked."

Orym cursed, seeing the seriousness even past the generally dazed expression in Dorian’s eyes. So he slipped off the bed, annoyed and started stripping off until he was left in only his socks.

"There, I'm naked, drink it."

Dorian appraised him drunkenly before taking the medicine like a shot. He handed Orym back the measuring cup before leaning back against the headboard and patting his lap.

“You should come here.”

“First, let's get some food into you,” Orym said, producing the chicken noodle soup he’d brought with him and the spoon he’d pinched from the kitchen before offering them out to him.

Dorian looked between them for a moment before settling his eyes on Orym and patting his lap again, more pointedly. Orym took a deep, deep breath and sighed out through his nose. This was going to be interesting to explain when Dorian’s fever broke. But Dorian needed to eat something, so he clambered back up into the bed. And that was how Orym found himself straddling Dorian’s lap wearing nothing but his socks, spoon-feeding the genasi chicken soup and occasionally pausing to slap away a wandering hand or two. It was oddly domestic, though, with Dorian seeming content to accept the care provided Orym remained right where he was in the state of undress he was.

Orym was quite pleased that he managed to get just over half of the container of soup into Dorian before he started to doze off - probably because the cold medicine was finally kicking in. From there, it was fairly easy to convince Dorian to settle down and get comfortable, almost immediately passing out the second his head hit the pillow, allowing Orym the chance to slip off the bed and redress. He rearranged the bedside table with everything Dorian would need should he wake overnight - water, painkillers, cold medicine and tissues - before heading out to check all the locks on the windows, starting with the bedroom, then moving on to the bathroom and then out into the living room. He avoided going into Dorian’s “office”, respecting the privacy of the room he hadn’t been shown into.

He was just finishing up with the locks in the living room when he heard Dorian shout his name in confusion and then the bang of someone colliding with a wall. Seconds later, Dorian came stumbling hurriedly out of the corridor looking dazed and frightened.

“What’s wrong?” Orym asked worriedly, moving to meet him halfway across the room.

Instantly, Dorian hit the ground on his knees, dragging Orym into him, fisting his hands into the back of his shirt. Orym grabbed him back out of instinct as Dorian pressed his face into his shoulder.

“I thought you’d left,” Dorian said, his voice trembling.

“No, not yet, I was just checking the locks-”

“Don’t go.” Dorian clutched him tighter. “I don’t wanna be alone; don’t go, please.”

Orym bit his lip hard. He’d planned on getting his stuff and saying a quick goodbye to Dorian before heading home, seeing as last time Dorian had become anxious about the idea of him staying. But now, here he was, on his literal knees, begging him to stay.

“Swee- Dorian.” He gently coaxed him back so they could see each other face-to-face and instantly regretted the decision when he saw the tears welling. “I don’t want to overstep your boundaries. You’re not comfortable yet with the idea of me staying over.”

“Then take me with you.”

Orym shook his head. “You’re nowhere near well enough for public transport and I can’t drive your car.”

“Oh…okay. Okay.” Dorian slowly let him go, folding back into himself. “I won’t stop you if you wanna go. I…I’m sorry to be a bother.”

Dorian pressed his lips into a thin line, very clearly trying to hold himself together even as a few tears slipped free. Orym couldn’t possibly leave him like this. He sighed softly and reached out to take Dorian’s burning face into his hands.

“Just…let me check the door lock and I’ll come back to bed, okay? Promise.”

Dorian trembled under the touch. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Dorian remained where he was on the ground as Orym ducked over to check the door, having to jump up to reach the deadbolt, but once he was satisfied everything was locked up, he returned to Dorian. Together they managed to get him back onto his feet and stumble the rest of the way back into the bedroom, where Dorian immediately dragged Orym into the bed with him and curled around him, cuddling him in close. If Dorian’s fever broke overnight there would be a lot to explain in the morning when he woke. But that was an issue for then. Right now Orym was comfortably snug with his- with Dorian and it was easy enough to drift off to sleep in the embrace.

Chapter Text

And so it all boils down to this
We've got our aim but we might miss
We are too fragile just to guess

The two of us so out of place
My feelings written on my face
Got what I want but now I'm scared
What if we ruin it all, and we love like fools?

Dorian woke before sunrise, which was unusual because normally he was the kind of person to stay up late and wake up later. But when he flopped over to his back to look at the face on his alarm clock, it told him it was just shy of four am and yet he was more awake than he’d ever been. He felt more clear-headed as well and as he properly woke, he remembered bits and pieces of last night. Orym. Orym had been here. Then came the gentle shifting of another person against his side, also rousing and he turned with dawning horror as Orym blinked open his eyes blearily. Orym hadn’t just been here - he was still here.

So he did the first thing he can think of, which is to shut his eyes again and pretend to still be asleep and hope Orym hasn’t noticed. For a moment, Orym shuffled around and he allowed himself to believe he’d gotten away with it. But then Orym gently stroked his cheek with the back of his fingers.

“I know you’re awake, Dor,” He murmured fondly and Dorian’s heart ached painfully.

Slowly he opened his eyes and looked up to Orym, who had propped himself up on his elbows beside Dorian.

“Hi?” Dorian offered softly, already feeling the embarrassment and anxiety creeping in, along with a few hazy memories of what he’d done last night. “I’m so sorry-”

Orym rested the back of his hand on Dorian’s forehead. “Feels like your fever broke. That’s good. You were pretty out of it yesterday.”

“Orym, please let me-”

“I know it’s early but are you hungry? There’s some leftover chicken soup or I can scrounge around in the kitchen?”

“Orym!” Dorian grabbed him by the shoulder. “Stop! I was terrible to you! I bullied you and manipulated you-”

“No.” Orym cut him off again swiftly. “No, you were very sick, Dorian and I’m not going to hold that against you. Was it weird and a little awkward? Yes. Do I regret it? Not at all. Because you were unwell and you needed help. The only thing I want you to apologise for is not calling me earlier.”

Dorian swallowed heavily and chewed on his lip. “I’m sorry…for doing what you did and not telling anyone I was really unwell.”

Orym narrowed his eyes a little. “You hungry?”

“A little but…I don’t want to get up yet.”

“Cuddle?” Orym offered instead, rolling onto his side and raising an arm for Dorian to shuffle under. So he did, shifting over to tuck his head under Orym’s chin and curl his arms around him tightly.

“I’m sorry for breaking your boundaries.” Orym murmured into his hair. “In my defence, you were very delirious and crying.”

Dorian shook his head slightly. “I…it’s okay.”

And to be honest, he was surprised at how okay with it he was. The thought of Orym staying over the other week had terrified him. As much as he’d wanted to do it, having Orym in his space, his sanctuary, had made him feel like missing steps on the staircase and he’d panicked. But now that it had happened and Orym was still here, cuddling with him, it was actually a rather big relief and he let himself sink further into the embrace happily. Then he must have dozed off again, because the next time he woke, the sunlight had started to peek out from under the curtains. He was also still tightly wrapped around Orym, who was snoring softly, and for once his face was completely relaxed and slack. Orym was beautiful like this, even with the bed hair and sweat.

He really wanted to kiss Orym again. The last time had been such a spur-of-the-moment panic, knowing it was something Orym wanted and he had been willing to try. Now it was something he wanted. Badly. And he wasn’t in the habit of denying himself things he wanted. Though, he supposed, he had a few times now when it came to Orym’s comfort compared to his own. Maybe this had all been a bad idea, letting Orym in close enough to see the parts of him he’d worked so hard to try and erase. All the rough edges of his being he’d tried to sand away. But Orym never seemed offended or bothered by how imperfectly flawed he really was behind all the make-up and cameras. Had taken everything in stride with a grace that Dorian only wished he could have. Cared about him in ways he’d thought no one ever would. After everything, Orym deserved a proper damn kiss, one where Dorian wasn’t trying to manipulate the narrative or where he didn’t flee immediately afterwards.

But he also wasn’t going to do it while Orym was still sleeping. So instead he trailed a hand absently along Orym’s back, soothing, just enjoying the moment for what it was. A realisation that he wanted more and was willing to ask for it eventually, when the time was right. It was terrifying to think how much he’d changed all because of one little halfling and his care. Slowly, Orym began to stir, lazily pressing a kiss to Dorian’s forehead before rolling out onto his back to stretch. His shirt rode up in the process, flashing him with a delectable sliver of skin that he had half a mind to latch onto, but changed his mind when Orym rolled his head to look at him with a smile.

“Good morning again,” He greeted softly, tucking back a stray lock of Dorian’s hair for him.

But Dorian couldn’t find the words to reply, a little struck by this pretty creature in his bed. And then he was moving before he could think better of it, crawling up to cup Orym’s face and leaning over to kiss him firmly. Orym startled a little, his hands grabbing onto Dorian’s shoulders but then slowly went lax beneath him. He hadn’t noticed it last time, so deep in his own fears about the situation, but Orym was hesitating as much as he was. Perhaps they were much more similar than Dorian had thought. After a long moment, he went to draw away, but Orym caught his head and pulled him back down to kiss him again. And again. And again until Dorian was a little lost in the movements of mouths against one another, curling around Orym to bring him in even closer.

And then the moment was broken when Orym suddenly and abruptly shoved him back away and he went willingly, though confused about what he did wrong.

“You’re still sick,” Orym said, covering his mouth with his hand, eyes wide. Dorian blinked rapidly, his brain catching up, then laughed.

“Oh gods,” He chuckled, collapsing onto his back, hands on his face. “Shit, I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, none of that now.” Orym had followed after him, and when Dorian looked, he was propped up on his elbow watching him. “I’m also to blame. But it was a great kiss and if I get sick because of it, so be it then.”

Dorian rubbed his face roughly. “I wouldn’t have wished this stupid cold on my worst enemy, Orym.”

“I’ll be alright.” Orym waved him off, pushing himself up to sit.

“Promise you’ll tell me if I do get you sick though?”

Orym shot him a look. “You gunna take care of me if I do?”

“Yes.” He was surprised at his own directness with the answer, as was Orym, given his expression.

“Oh.” Orym looked away. “...You wanna take a shower or something, wash off the sweat and I’ll make some breakfast? I have to head off soon to get back in time for my first class.”

Dorian nodded, then realised Orym wasn’t watching and murmured a quick, “Yeah, okay,” before swinging himself up and off the bed. From there they went their separate ways, Orym heading off towards the kitchen and Dorian into the bathroom to wash off the stench of sickness and sweat. He let himself soak for a little bit before he padded out into the kitchen, dressed in fresh clothes and messing with his hair to tie it back out of the way. He found Orym standing on a chair at the counter, in the process of buttering several slices of toast, a glass of juice already waiting for Dorian at the counter chair. Sitting down, he silently turned the glass in his hands before Orym placed the plate of toast in front of him. Then he checked his phone.

“I gotta head off to catch the first bus.” He checked his pockets, and Dorian heard the jingle of keys. “There’s still some cold medicine and painkillers on your bedside if you need ‘em.”

“I could just drive you. I’m feeling much better this morning.”

Orym patted his thigh. “It’s alright, you should rest up. I don’t mind taking the bus.”

Dorian bit his lip absently. “Alright. Will you message me later though?”

“Of course.” Orym took his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Did you want me to come back again this afternoon after class? I don’t mind.”

Dorian shook his head. “No, no, that’s alright. You have better things to do than stick around here.”

“I dunno, you gave me some pretty good incentive before,” Orym teased, squeezing his fingers and Dorian felt himself blush.

“Go on or you’ll miss your bus,” Dorian said, tugging his hand free so he could use them to shoo Orym along to the door. “Just…message me later and I’ll be happy, okay?”

“Okay,” Orym agreed. “I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thanks.”

Dorian undid the deadbolt for him and watched until Orym had turned the corner out of sight before he shut the door. Immediately he fell back against it, taking a deep, steadying breath. He was in trouble - big, big trouble. There was no use in denying it; he couldn’t deny it after everything that had happened in the last few weeks. He’d already admitted to himself that he liked Orym but this…was something else. This swirling mix of feelings; unfamiliar and aching in the place between his heart and his lungs. Not painful but he was painfully aware that it was there. The feeling of wanting to have Orym near, wanting to ease his worries and fears, wanting to spend lazy days with him just kissing and cuddling, content in his company. He was smitten, there was no other word for it.

He shoved himself off the door and went in search of his phone, debating with himself about who he could talk to about this. Fearne was immediately out because she knew Orym and would probably tell him. Opal was out too because he doubted she would understand the peril his heart was jumping through. That left Dariax, who all things considered, was a viable option. He’d had relationships before, albeit ultimately unsuccessful ending ones, but relationships nonetheless. After locating his phone and taking a few bites of the toast Orym had made for him, he pulled up Dariax’s number and called him.

“Hey buddy!” Dariax greeted cheerfully after the fourth ring. “You’re up early for a Yulisen.”

“I need some advice.” He blurted out, instantly regretting not even trying to ease into it. But he might have been a little desperate.

“Sure, what’s going on?”

“Are you with Opal right now?” It wouldn’t hurt to make sure, some days those two lived in each other's pockets. “And for the record, you can’t talk to her about this at all.”

“Uh…okay?” Dariax sounded confused but that wasn’t surprising. “No, she’s not here right now, gone out for a while.”

“Okay, good.” Dorian swallowed, wondering where the hell to start explaining.

“Are you alright, buddy?” Dariax asked hesitantly and Dorian let his head rest in his palm.

“No, no I’m not. I just…Orym just left after staying the night.”

There was a moment of silence as Dariax processed this information. “...oh shit.”

“Yeah.” He pushed around the toast on his plate. “I don’t know what we’re doing anymore, Dariax. It was meant to be easy breezy, me getting a chance to slut it up for a few weeks and then…and then he was…well, he was Orym. And I didn’t want to stop then and now I’m in this mess where I don’t know where we’re going. He came over last night just because he was worried about me and even took care of me. And now I have this pit inside me that doesn’t ache but it’s there and the only time I don’t notice it is when he’s here and…and…”

He trailed off, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “I just, don’t know what to do. Help. Please.”

Another pregnant pause followed.

“You really like this guy, don’t you?” There was no judgement in his voice.

"...yeah, I do."

“And by the sound of it, I think he might like you too. Especially if he had to put up with sick you and still stayed the night.”

“I was so pathetic and he still took care of me. Brought me medicine and chicken noodle soup." He sighed. "I don’t know what I’m doing with relationships. I don’t even know if he wants one with me or if this is just his idea of how a hook-up goes.”

"Okay, okay, okay, lemme tell you something. What you and Orym have been doing is not hooking up-"

Dorian spluttered in protest but Dariax continued.

"-maybe it started out that way but now you guys have coasted into a situationship that is quickly becoming domestic. Have you kissed him yet?"

Dorian blushed and hid his face on instinct, even though Dariax couldn't see him. "...Yes."

"Oh, you do have it bad, don't you, buddy?"

"Yes! We've established that!" Dorian groaned. "What do I do??"

"Well, have you told him you like him?"

"No, why would I have done that?"

"...Dor."

"What? I'm sleeping with him, he knows I like him."

Dariax sighed. "There's a bit of a difference, bud. You gotta tell him flat out or else he might not realise you want more than the sex."

"Oh." He thought back; surely there had been a moment where he'd mentioned to Orym that he liked him but he quickly came up short. He'd certainly shown it, maybe once or twice through his actions, but he'd never actually said it. "Fuck."

“So now you know what you gotta do,” Dariax said confidently and Dorian could practically see the dumb grin on his face through the phone. But he wasn’t convinced.

"But what if he doesn't actually like me and we're assuming things."

"Dor, I love ya buddy but nobody would sleep with you for this long if they didn't like, like, you."

“Okay but…do you mean like a general you or specific you.”

“What?”

Dorian groaned. “Do you mean whoever in general wouldn’t sleep with someone this long ‘you’ or do you mean me, Dorian specifically, ‘you’ when you say ‘wouldn’t have slept with you for this long’?”

“Specifically you.”

Dorian protested.

“You’re kinda a pain in the ass sometimes, dude. High-maintenance, Opal would call it.”

“I’m just…particular. Besides, he knows that.”

“My point exactly. No dick is worth that much on its own-”

“-Hey!”

“Don’t lie to yourself like this, Dor. Would you have slept with you for this long?”

“Well…yeah.”

Dariax pauses. “Okay, that was a bad example, your taste in men is historically terrible.”

“IT IS NOT!”

“The numbers don’t lie, buddy; you are three for four hook-ups slash relationships going south before crashing and burning because you’re a hot mess. Not to mention I have done actual crime and I wouldn’t be friends with at least two of the last guys you dated.”

Dorian sneered and grumbled under his breath.

“So, what are you going to do next time you see Orym?”

“...tell him I like him. Explicitly. So he understands it’s not just sex.”

“There you go. You can do this, buddy. I believe in you!”

“I’m glad somebody does.” Dorian sighed and rubbed at his jaw. “Thanks Dariax. Remember, don’t say anything to Opal!”

“Alright, alright, I won’t. Now go get yourself in a relationship!”

--

--

It seemed fate wanted him to wait a little longer before he could follow Dariax’s advice. But he supposed that was fine. What wasn’t fine was the way every so often a little text bubble would pop up on his chat with Orym, only to vanish again after a few moments. Did Orym want to tell him more? Or maybe he was afraid to actually ask for help. After everything he’d done for Dorian on Folsen, coming over and looking after him while he’d been sick, the least he could do to help Orym in whatever way he could was to go over and check on him. So he packed himself into the car and drove over to Orym’s, knocking loudly on the door before waiting. Normally Orym was very prompt with answering the door but today it took more than a few moments, to the point he was almost about to knock again, before it swung open and he was faced with Orym. In all his time knowing the halfling, he’d never seen Orym look so dishevelled outside the times he’d done it himself; a hand raking back through his short mop of hair to push the ends out of his face.

“Dorian?” He asked, confused, but stepped back anyway.

“Hi,” Dorian stepped in and pulled the door shut behind himself. “I…you never replied and so I…I was worried…about you.”

And now that he cast a glance into the house proper, he could see he’d had a decent reason to. There was an open suitcase on the floor behind the couch and various pieces of clothing were tossed about like he couldn’t decide what to pack. Orym’s phone and several other key items - passport, wallet, keys, medications and credit cards - were scattered on the counter with a half-packed backpack that had several charging cords poking out of it.

“Are you…going somewhere?” Dorian asked and Orym nodded.

“My mother…she…uh…had a fall and broke her hip. Or dislocated, I can’t really remember. I got the call from Bernie about an hour ago and so I’ve just…trying to pack.” He motioned to the chaos of his house. “I gotta go see her. There’s a flight leaving tonight at like, eight and I’m trying to organise for Letters to take me but he’s not replying and-”

“I’ll take you then,” Dorian said. “Orym, I’ll take you.”

Orym’s eyes widened. Dorian checked the time on his phone and mentally calculated how long it would take them to get to the airport.

“You just pack and let me take care of getting you to the airport on time, okay?”

Orym gaped at him for a moment longer.

“Orym! Pack!”

That seemed to snap him out of it and send him running back into his room to gather the things he needed. In the meantime, Dorian started neatening up the pile on the bench, organising it so all Orym had to do was shove things into his bag. Orym reappeared a few moments later with an armful of clothes that he unceremoniously threw into the suitcase. Normally Dorian might have insisted he at least fold them a little but Orym was stressed enough as is. So when Orym went back for another round of collection, Dorian knelt beside the suitcase and just started doing it for him, organising it so everything would fit in better and they’d actually be able to close the lid. Orym came back just as he finished smoothing down the last of the jackets and paused.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Orym said, handing over his toiletries bag when Dorian held out his hand for it.

“I know,” Dorian said simply, carefully tucking it into place and pulling the lid shut. “Now the backpack and we’ll get on our way.”

Thankfully that didn’t take anywhere near as long as the suitcase and within twenty minutes, they were on their way. Dorian couldn’t help but cast glances at Orym in the passenger seat, his eyes glued to his phone, seeming to be texting someone - probably the sister that rang him about his mother - and had that air of worry permeating around him. There wasn’t much he could do to soothe Orym’s fears though, not while he needed to focus on driving, but he could, for now, reach over and offer his hand if Orym wanted it. And it took a moment before Orym noticed it, but soon enough, familiar fingers laced with his own and squeezed tightly. He wondered if Orym got the same jolt of electricity he did every time they touched but didn’t ask.

They didn’t speak much for the rest of the trip; Dorian focused on the traffic and Orym swapped focus between his phone and Dorian’s hand. Then they pulled up at the drop-off and Dorian hopped out to help Orym get his suitcase out of the boot.

“Thank you for this, Dorian,” Orym said as he swung his backpack up onto his shoulder. “I’ll keep in touch and be back before the end of next week; I can’t afford to take much more time off than that.”

“You’re welcome; it’s the least I could do. And you really don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Dorian shut the boot and joined Orym on the curb. “Just…take care of your Ma and have a break, okay?”

Orym nodded and then hesitated a little. “I’ll…um…see you when I get back?”

“Yeah…” Dorian shuffled his feet. “I’ll come pick you up if you like? Just let me know the time and I’ll be here.”

“I’d appreciate it.” Orym glanced into the terminal. “I should…don’t want to miss my flight.”

“Right, no, you should…you need to go and I need to move my car out of the way…Uhm…”

Before Dorian could think better of it, he knelt down to Orym’s height and hesitantly offered his arms out, not sure how it would be received. Orym, thankfully, seemed to melt a little bit, as if relieved, before he surged forwards to meet Dorian. However, it only occurred to Dorian halfway into the motion that Orym was not at the right angle for the kiss he’d been aiming for and instead, his lips just ended up bumping awkwardly across Orym’s cheek before then hitting his ear.

“Sorry, I thought-” Orym tried to draw away.

“-No this is fine.” Dorian pulled him in tighter, lingering for as long as he dared before straightening back up and standing again. “Have a safe trip.”

Orym nodded and squeezed his hands. “I’ll let you know when I land?”

“I’d like that.”

A loud honk interrupted the moment and Dorian jumped so badly that he dropped his keys. Orym threw a curse at the driver before scooping them up and pressing them back into Dorian’s hands.

“See you in two weeks,” Orym said before grabbing the handle of his suitcase and starting to step back away.

“See you then.” Dorian gave a little wave before Orym turned and vanished into the crowd. He didn’t have long to consider the odd ache in his heart as he watched Orym walk away before the car was honking at him again. With a curse, he clambered back into the driver's seat and pulled back out onto the laneway so the other car could take his parking spot.

--

It became abundantly clear very quickly that this was going to be a long two weeks.

After getting home from dropping Orym off at the airport he’d spent the next hour or so beating himself up over the fact he’d tried to kiss Orym goodbye and somehow failed at that. Then, when he’d finally been trying to wrangle himself together, he’d had the realisation that he wouldn’t have Orym’s company at all for the next two weeks and he spent another hour laying out on the floor, wondering why that idea hurt so much. He’d then attempted to throw himself deep into his work and take his mind off the thought but instead ended up only exhausting himself for little progress and crawled his way into bed at some hour past midnight. The next day was little better until about mid-morning when his phone went off with Orym’s ringtone and he had to scramble through the sea of blankets to reach it in time. Talking to Orym immediately brightened the dark cloud that had formed over his head overnight and he felt like a giddy teenager laying out on his bed, listening to Orym grumble about the onboard food and the headache he’d gotten from screaming children.

Then Orym had to go in order to catch a bus and once the call had ended, his mood immediately soured again. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since he’d seen Orym off and yet he already wanted him back in the city. Not even to be together; just knowing that he was close by would be enough. The unfamiliar feeling crept down his spine and plucked on his heartstrings like melancholy and eventually he heaved a sigh before forcing himself to rise for the day and get on with it. And it continued like that for the rest of the week. He got on with his work as much as he could and continued with his routine, aware that there was nothing now to break it other than Orym’s phone calls. They often came at odd hours but he was always ready to answer them, like little bright spots in his otherwise dreary repetitive days. He was still struggling to put a name to the feeling, the one that popped up when he thought about Orym being so far away, when Yulesen rolled around and he’d set up his usual stream. Normally he wasn’t one to look at the list of usernames in the chat, they were all faceless beings after all, but he supposed there was a secret part of him that was hopeful that just maybe-

And then there near the bottom he saw the name he was looking for. HalfingTwunk. Orym was watching the stream.

The same feeling that had been lingering in the pit of his stomach all week suddenly lit up the nerves along his spine and he continued with the show with renewed vigour. It wasn’t until after the stream went black and he had a moment to think to himself that he realised what the feeling was. Longing. He missed Orym more fiercely and acutely than he’d ever missed anyone in his life and the feeling ached at knowing there was still a week to go until he could see him again. Until he could touch, taste and feel him beneath his hands. Then his phone rang, distracting his thoughts. Still half-naked he dashed to it on the desk, picking up just on the last ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Orym's voice was low and warm. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Dorian smiled even though Orym couldn’t see it. “No you have good timing, I just finished up with a stream.”

“Oh, right. You know, I forgot it was still Yulesen there,” Orym teased and Dorian sat himself down on the edge of the bed.

“Mh, sure you did. How’s your Ma going today?”

"She’s good, resting up well. The medication they’ve put her on knocked her around a bit last night but she's okay now and not in any pain, which is good."

“That’s good. How are you holding up?”

“I’m doing okay. Ma keeps telling me I need to eat more but that’s just her.”

Dorian chuckled a little and settled out to lay on his back on the daybed. “You know, I saw a familiar name in my chat this evening, but I know it couldn’t have been him because he’s currently at his mother’s house looking after her like a good boy.”

“Maybe you were seeing things.”

“I don’t think I was. It seems pretty naughty to be watching porn with your mother in the other room.”

“Don’t worry, I had you muted. I’d rather she not hear some of the noises you make,” Orym chuckled before pausing for a moment, considering. “I…I just wanted to see you…just for a little bit.”

Dorian swallowed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I mean it’s nice to see my sisters and my ma and Nell again but I…” He trailed off, hesitant.

“I miss you,” Dorian whispered softly. “I really do.”

"I miss you too."

Dorian let that sit with him for a moment then cleared his throat. “So what are you wearing?”

Orym laughed and very quickly attempted to stifle it.

“You know what I’m wearing, so it’s only fair, Orym.”

“I’m in my pyjamas, Dor. Nothing special.”

“So you’re half naked is what you’re saying. I know you sleep shirtless.” Dorian absently trailed a hand down his chest. “Mind you if I were there, that wouldn’t stand. I’d have you completely naked.”

“Dor.” Dorian chose to pleasantly ignore the warning tone in Orym’s voice, even as he continued. “We’ve already established where I am; this is a bad idea.”

“What are you gunna do if I keep going? Hang up on me?”

Orym made a small choking noise. “Are you baiting me right now?”

“Depends if it’s working or not. If not, I could instead talk about how much I want your pretty little cock in my mouth right now; that would shut me up.”

On the other end of the line, Orym grumbled a curse under his breath.

“You rang me right after a stream, Orym, you knew exactly what you were going to find.”

“...I guess you have me there.”

“Missed hearing me make noise on the stream so much you had to ring me afterwards hoping to hear some private ones? Like the ones I make just for you?” He wrapped a hand around his cock, slowly stroking himself, working himself up once more.

Orym cursed again just before making one of those breathy noises Dorian adored that meant he was getting into this.

“I’m trying to be so quiet right now, you fucker.”

Dorian chuckled. “If I was there, you wouldn’t need to worry about making noise, I’d have my tongue so far down your throat you wouldn’t be able to make a sound.”

That earned him another stifled breathy moan. “You…you’d be kissing me?”

“...Yeah. Yeah I would be.” Dorian wrangled the surge of emotions at the thought of actually kissing Orym while they had sex, and forged on. “Fucking you open while keeping you quiet.”

Orym groaned softly. “Is that your plan when I get back then? A pretty thing in your bed making no noise?”

“I mean, it can certainly be arranged.”

“Dorian I-” Orym cut off and he began cursing as a woman’s voice suddenly shrieked, overtaking whatever he’d been about to say, before, “-LITA! Don’t you know how to fucking knock???”

The call then went dead and Dorian sat there in the silence for a moment, slightly mortified on Orym’s behalf. But also he couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up out of him at the realisation that Orym had just been caught by his sister jerking off in the guest room of his mother’s house and any kind of embarrassment he felt must have been tenfold for Orym. He could only imagine how Orym must be stuttering through his explanation of who he was talking to and he very much looked forward to hearing all about that trainwreck when Orym got back next week. In the meantime, he hoisted himself up off the daybed and wandered into the bathroom to take his customary after stream bath and probably giggle some more at poor Orym’s misfortune.

--

Naturally, the next time Orym called, he didn’t bring up the incident of the other evening and Dorian didn’t blame him. If he’d been caught like that by his brother, he wouldn’t want to talk much about it either; he would just quietly slide the whole incident under the rug and forget about it. However, Orym did have some news; a time and date for his flight back into Marquet. There was only one snag.

“The flight lands at about eight-thirty on Yulesen so you’ll be set up for your stream. I tried to get an earlier flight but it was all booked out so I’ll see if Letters can come get me instead-”

“No.” Dorian would never admit to the pout he made that Orym couldn’t see over the phone. “No, I can still do it. One cancelled stream isn’t going to kill my career.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to-”

“Too late, I’m cancelling it now. See you on Yulesen at the airport. Hope you remember what I look like.”

“Are you still pretty, tall and blue?” Orym teased.

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

“Then I think I’ll be able to find you.”

Yulesen then took an age to finally roll around. He couldn’t remember the last time a week had dragged on so slowly, but finally it was time for him to pile into his car and drive to the airport. Rather than get abused again at the drop off point, Dorian found a park in the miles and miles of carpark and caught the shuttle to the terminal, where he found a comfortable piece of wall to lean against while he waited for Orym’s flight to let out. He knew reasonably that it took some time to get off the plane and collect luggage, but that didn’t mean his foot couldn’t tap nervously on the ground as he kept glancing between his phone and the arrivals gate, waiting for any sign of the halfling.

Then a small crowd of passengers flooded out and Dorian suddenly pushed himself to attention, sweeping his eyes low and met a familiar pair of green eyes that locked onto him. Orym grinned and changed directions immediately with a raised hand to greet him.

“Dorian!”

Gods, it was good to hear his voice not through the speaker of a phone. He hurried his pace to meet Orym halfway, unthinkingly dropping to his knees to be at Orym’s height in time for when they collided in a tight hug. He buried his face into the curve of Orym’s shoulder, breathing deep the familiar musk that accompanied Orym and just basking in the warmth of him pressing against him again. They lingered for a long moment before releasing one another, though they didn’t shift far back, just enough to press foreheads together instead. Dorian opened his mouth, intending to ask how his flight had been, but Orym distracted him by catching his chin and turning his head so he could press a single sweet kiss onto him. It was little more than a peck but it was enough to send the blood rushing through Dorian’s ears as he flushed.

“Sorry…been thinking about that all week…” Orym admitted softly, his own cheeks burning. “I’ll give you a proper one when we’re away from mixed company.”

Dorian blinked slowly, then grinned. “Then we better get away from mixed company soon before I jump you in an inappropriate place.”

He hauled himself to his feet as Orym laughed. Dorian then grabbed the handle of Orym’s luggage to wrangle it off him, prompting Orym to protest, but Dorian just offered out his hand for him to take instead. The tips of his ears turned pink but he accepted the hand and they walked out to the shuttle bay, chatting idly about Orym’s flight and what he’d missed since last they spoke. They fell silent on the shuttle ride and remained so until they reached Dorian’s car, where he popped Orym’s suitcase in the boot as Orym crawled his way into the front passenger seat. But Dorian had other ideas and climbed into the backseat.

“Dor?” Orym asked as Dorian pulled the door shut behind him and adjusted himself to sit sideways on the seat. “You can’t drive from back there?”

“I’m not driving you anywhere until I get that proper kiss I was promised,” Dorian smirked, patting the halfling-sized hole in his lap.

Orym chuckled and shook his head.

“I hope you realise this is basically extortion,” Orym joked even as he carefully clambered into the back with Dorian, letting himself be rearranged into his lap so they could cuddle.

“Is it really extortion if we both want it?” Dorian teased, wrapping his arms around Orym to pull him in close. “I’m considering it payment for cancelling my stream to come get you.”

“I told you, you didn’t need to-”

Dorian cut him off by kissing him firmly. Orym started a little, apparently surprised by his forwardness, then melted into it completely, sliding his hands up to cup Dorian’s face. He kept it lingeringly sweet for a long moment, enjoying the soft press of lips and the familiar weight of Orym in his arms but he could never resist teasing him and nipped at his bottom lip gently. Orym let out a soft little breath of a noise, one of the ones he’d missed so much, and he lost his damn mind. Without any further thought, he moved and suddenly had Orym pressed between his body and the door, silencing whatever noise Orym had been about to make and swallowing it down with the breath he stole from his lungs. The kiss turned desperate and at some point he coaxed Orym’s mouth open to tangle their tongues, one hand buried into the short crop of Orym’s hair to keep his head from knocking back against the window.

He shivered under the weight of the groan Orym let out when he bit down on his bottom lip and was about to let his free hand go roaming, when Orym suddenly braced his hands on Dorian’s shoulders and pushed him back as hard as he could. He went willingly, anxiety rearing its head as he began to wonder what he’d done wrong, when Orym took his face into his hands again, panting a little with a smile.

“Take me home?” He requested, trying to catch his breath. “Take me home before I do something real stupid in the back of your car?”

Relief flooded his system and he laughed. “Yeah…okay…okay, whatever you want.”

Orym smiled like a breaking sunrise and Dorian didn’t want to think too hard about the flips his stomach did at the sight of it. Instead, he stole one last kiss before they both clambered into the front seats one after the other and he tried his best not to speed too much on the trip home.

Chapter Text

I can see myself in the static
I can see myself in you
Reflections on a two way mirror
Times running out, times running out
Destiny is overrated so I think I'll write my own

When Dorian arrived at Orym’s studio on Whelsen, he was surprised to find an unfamiliar figure sitting on the couch in the lobby. The earth genasi barely gave him half a glance as he entered before looking back down at their phone and going back to scrolling. He wondered if Orym knew this guy was still here, loitering in his lobby, seeing as there was no sign of him. Dorian dumped the first load of his equipment by the door into the studio before ducking back out to the car for the last of it, only slightly paranoid that the genasi might try to snoop or steal something. But he was pleasantly surprised to return and find the scene the same as he’d left it. And still no Orym. He flicked off his shoes onto the rack and opened the door to the studio, preparing to call out when the genasi finally spoke.

“Orym’s not here,” They said in a low, strangely familiar gravelly tone. After a moment, it clicked. This was Orym’s friend Ashton from that day. He’d heard the voice but hadn’t seen them so no wonder he didn’t recognise them.

“What do you mean, ‘not here’?” Dorian asked, closing the studio door.

“He had to duck home real quick.” The genasi - Ash - hadn’t even bothered to look up from his phone until this point, now meeting Dorian’s eye. “I made a mess of him and he wanted to change clothes before you got here.”

Instantly, Dorian bristled. Something about the way they said that set off panic in the back of his head and he unconsciously straightened himself to stand at his full height. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Ash leant back into the couch more, giving him a hard look up and down. “It means what it fucking means, pretty boy. I made a mess of him and he had to go home and change before you got here.”

He had enough sense to remind himself that squaring up to one of Orym’s friends was probably a bad idea and instead just huffed, turned his back and crossed his arms.

“You know when he’ll be back?”

“He’ll be back when he gets back.” Ash said casually. “He was walking funny though so it might take a while.”

Dorian flinched and clenched his fists tightly. Ash suddenly laughed from behind him.

“Oh, do you not like the idea of sharing your toys?”

“He is not a toy!” Dorian snapped, turning sharply back to Ashton, who just laughed again.

“Sure he is, look at the size of him.”

“He’s an adult!”

“Right, so then it doesn't matter who he decides to sleep with. You guys aren’t exclusive anyway.”

The truth was like a lance right through the heart and it hurt. Ash was right, he really didn’t have much say over who or what Orym decided to do with his time outside of Dorian and that wasn’t his business anyway, they had lives beside each other. Except in this instance, when he really fucking cared because it hurt to think that Oyrm might have started seeing other people. That he might not be all that Orym wanted. They weren’t exclusive by any means, even if for the longest time they were only sleeping with each other, and maybe Orym had sought out comfort Dorian couldn’t provide. He couldn’t fault him for that, not after his talk with Dariax. But it also seemed Ash wasn’t entirely done with hurting his feelings yet.

“You know, I guess I should be thanking you for breaking the seal on Orym. It’s wild how flexible that halfling is.”

Dorian snapped. “You motherfu-”

The front door opened and they both turned to watch as Orym entered, looking between the two of them curiously. At the sight of him, something in Dorian calmed a little, even more so when he noticed that Orym was wearing his maroon sweater. Before he could rationalise it, he was marching over to Orym and kneeling down to hook an arm around him and tug him in close.

“Dor-?” He cut Orym off with a demanding and bruising kiss, bending him back a little over his arm. Dorian knew it was petty but it felt pretty satisfying when he drew away and Orym was flushed bright red, looking up at him like he wanted to ask for more.

“Hi,” He murmured softly instead, absently smoothing out the creases in the front of Dorian's shirt like his hands needed something to do.

“Hi yourself.” Dorian nosed under his ear, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. “You look really cute in my sweater.”

Orym shivered but before he could ask, Ashton coughed loudly and obnoxiously. Orym jumped and tried to move away, but Dorian just tightened his arm around him firmly, keeping him tucked into his side as they turned to look at the genasi, who was now standing, hands in his pockets.

“Ash, gods, I’m sorry-” Orym started but Ashton raised a hand.

“Grass is around the corner so I’m heading off. Try not to make too much of a mess of the studio we just cleaned.”

Ashton looked pointedly at Dorian and then winked. Immediately it was like a bucket of cold water being poured directly down his spine. The genasi had been riling him up deliberately. He narrowed his eyes, absently squeezing Orym a little just to comfort himself. He’d wildly misunderstood the situation and yet instead of explaining it to him, Ashton had decided to fuck with him. What kind of game was he playing? The thought of asking Orym crossed his mind but he shoved that away, knowing he’d be too embarrassed to admit he’d been jealous just over the idea of someone else knowing what Orym was like in bed. To know the sweet little sounds he sighed. With a shit eating grin, Ash excused themselves out past them, closing the door behind and leaving them blissfully alone.

Dorian turned back to Orym, intending to make a joke and ease the tension in his own shoulders, only to find himself being dragged down into a filthy kiss. Orym’s fingers buried themselves into his hair and tugged him exactly where he wanted him, and Dorian delighted in it, gripping his hips to keep them steady. Orym feasted on his lips for a long moment until he had to draw back to breath. Dorian simply grinned.

“You…are an absolute menace.” Orym pressed their foreheads together. “Where did that come from?”

“I just…wanted to give you a proper kiss seeing as we…well, you know, do that now.” Definitely not because Orym’s friend had just riled him up enough to stake his claim in front of him. “But really, you also should know by now what the sight of you in that sweater does to me.”

Orym chuckled. “Maybe that’s why I wore it.”

“And you’re calling me a menace? For shame, Orym.” He stole another kiss, just because he could, catching Orym’s bottom lip between his teeth and causing him to gasp softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you later.”

Orym took a slow, steading breath. “I’m holding you to that. Come on then, let’s get all your equipment set up and sorted.”

--

After setting up all the cameras and lights that he wanted, Dorian ducked off to the bathroom to change into his outfit. Orym hadn’t known what to expect when he returned, figuring he’d probably be in some kind of lingerie as that was what his viewership enjoyed. However, what Dorian pranced out in, he was not prepared for. His make-up was impeccable; a striking white liner to frame his eyes and a dusting of what looked to be stars painted across his cheeks. The white bodysuit flowed up into a halter neck and had ribbon lacing running down the front to the end of his sternum, where it split open wide so his stomach was on display, then met back up to cover his modesty. It left his broad shoulders and arms free for movement. Over the top, he wore a hip-hugging, basically see-through chiffon skirt with slits all the way up either side. When he turned to dump his clothes into his bag, Orym was treated to the back view and discovered the bodysuit was well fitted down along his back and even lower, morphed into a g-string, his whole ass on display through the chiffon. The overall effect was dramatic and perfectly Dorian.

He stood back up, combing his fingers through his loose hair before turning back to Orym and noticing his staring. “What?”

“This is a problem,” Orym said, gesturing to him. Dorian furrowed his brow.

“What’s wrong with it? Is it not enough skin? Should I take the skirt off?”

“No, no,” Orym soothed, stepping over to take his worrying hands. “I mean…it’s a problem for me.”

Dorian’s eyes immediately dropped to his crotch.

“Oh, that kind of a problem, huh?” He grinned. “You want me to leave it on after class so you can take it off me?”

Orym swallowed. “You are going to be the death of me.”

“What a hell of a way to go, though,” Dorian teased, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “Alright, let's get this done so I can ravage you in skimpy underwear.”

Orym flushed bright red and shook his head as Dorian laughed brightly.

They turned their attention back to the task at hand. Dorian had set up multiple cameras around the pole he intended to use, making certain that he had decent angles for everything. Then he set up the lighting and spentsome time making sure it was correct. Meaning, in the end, there were a lot more machines in this studio than Orym was used to. He did wonder if the mirror-facing camera would be an issue, if he would be visible where he stood off to the side but Dorian seemed sure he would be fine and they always had the power of editing on their side.

“You know, while we have everything set up, maybe we could film a few of your routines. You can use them as promotional material,” Dorian suggested as he stepped around making last-minute checks to the cameras and turning on the recordings.

“How are you going to explain that to your editor?” Orym asked as he set up the speaker for Dorian’s music.

“Oh, I’d just edit them myself. I have a bachelor’s after all, I might as well use it.”

Orym nearly dropped the speaker. “What?”

“What do you mean, what?” Dorian turned to him confused. “Orym you’ve been in my room. Did you not see the big certificate on my shelf?”

He placed the speaker down carefully. “In my defence, I had just learned you have a brother and then you proceeded to fuck the legs out from under me. You have a bachelor's?”

“Okay, well, yes, that’s fair,” Dorian smoothed down his skirt. “Yeah, I have a bachelor’s in media design. It’s there for when I’m a bit too old for the whole ‘please daddy harder’ kinda deal. So if you want, we’ll film some of your stuff today and then I can just edit it.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t sure, Orym.” Dorian smiled and Orym felt his ears burn a little.

With the speaker in place, Dorian set up the connection with his phone before passing it to Orym so he could control the music as needed. They then warmed up and ran through the routine together one last time, making sure Dorian knew each cue and remembered the order. Then it was time. Before he could slip away, however, Dorian grabbed him by the arm and dragged him in to steal a kiss.

“For luck.” Dorian winked and Orym felt himself blush again before he nodded and scampered off into position.

As he watched, Dorian took up stance before the pole, a little hesitant, rubbing the liquid chalk into his hands methodically. He then took a visibly deep breath and shook out the nerves and gripped the pole between his hands.

“Whenever you’re ready, Orym.”

Orym pressed play and the pop song that Dorian had selected began to play loudly through the speaker, signalling for Dorian to start moving. He twirled once under his arm before swinging out his leg to fall back, hooking his leg around the pole as he fell, catching himself to spin before he was back on his feet. With a flowing movement, he changed directions and spun forwards this time, tucking his feet up neatly, delicately like Orym had taught him, showing off that upper body strength they’d worked on. He used one leg to push himself and build up speed to spin again faster, the skirt practically floating around him, before bringing his feet around to the pole and beginning to climb upwards. Now came the first sit, Dorian wrapping his thighs around the pole and leaning back with a flourish and a grin before he shifted smoothly into the next position, kicking his legs out before wrapping them both around the pole, locking in his elbow and leaning back to show off.

As he moved into the next position just as smoothly, flicking around to catch the pole in his gut and slowly spun his way back down to the ground for the floor movements, Orym wondered where Dorian went when he sunk into the performative space. He was smiling that award-winning grin but Orym could tell by the set of his shoulders and the glint in his eyes that he was focused and determined. They’d practised this over and over again till he knew each movement like muscle memory and it flowed like water as he rolled around dramatically on the floors Orym had meticulously cleaned earlier for this very purpose. Then he was back on his feet, twisting in time to the beat before running at the pole, grabbing hold with both hands and throwing himself around, kicking his legs out. Then, as he spun, he caught the pole with his knees, spinning back down to land on his feet. With another dramatic flourish, he was climbing again for the finishing moves.

Once he’d reached the right height, Dorian flicked his legs up and over his head into the invert, hangin upside down for a long moment before catching the pole between his thighs and morphing into the superhero. As he slowly descended the pole, Dorian shifted between a series of poses, with legs and arms outstretched in various forms until he landed on the ground on his knees with the pole between his legs and leant all the way back to finish just as the song ended. If he’d been anyone else, his breath would have been racing from the exertion, but Dorian’s was simply even as he reanimated and used the pole to hoist himself back up to sitting. Orym stopped the music and set the phone down as Dorian turned to him, still on his knees.

“That was-”

“Come here first.”

Dorian reached out his arms towards him and that was all the invitation he needed to jog over and wrap him up in a tight hug. Dorian melted into the embrace, holding on to the back of his sweater as Orym rocked them gently.

“Did I do good?”

“You did so well. That was amazing. I'm so proud of you."

Dorian buried his face into Orym's shoulder and squeezed him tightly for a moment before drawing back. Orym gently took his face into his hands. It wasn't fair how pretty Dorian was like this; on his knees before him, looking up expectantly for more praise. It also wasn't fair how much he wanted him but was terrified to ask and risk losing him. It wasn’t fair the way Dorian's hands shifted to hold his hips before drawing him in, leaning over to catch a taste of his lips again. He was burning for this man and it wasn't fair.

"Orym," Dorian drew him down into another feather-light kiss, full of hesitation and longing. "I…I really like you. Like, a lot. More than a hook-up and I…don't really know what comes after this part and it won't be easy but I know you're important to me and I don't want to lose you."

Orym felt his heart leap into his throat. "Are you…asking me out?"

Dorian flushed and glanced away. "I mean, I guess? It's been a long time since I've dated anyone but yeah, yeah I guess I am."

Orym didn’t give him a chance to second-guess himself and kissed him hard, throwing an arm around his neck to hold him there unhurriedly until he was forced to draw away to breathe.

"I really like you too, Dorian," He murmured against his lips, watching Dorian’s eyes light up hopeful. "You are important to me too, so we'll figure this out together.”

Dorian laughed nervously and stole another soft kiss. “I’ve been worrying all day about how I was going to tell you this and it was just that easy?”

“Yeah. And now I really get a chance to romance you properly, as the gods intended,” Orym teased with a smile that had Dorian flushing.

“What do you mean?”

“Let me make you dinner tomorrow night and you’ll find out.”

Dorian blinked at him slowly. “You been holding out on me, Orym?”

“No. Just terrified I might be too much and frighten you away.”

Dorian cupped his cheek gently, smiling. “Alright then. What should I wear for the occasion?”

“Your favourite comfortable clothes,” Orym chuckled at Dorian’s flat expression. “And maybe later, you can put on something gold for me.”

Dorian hummed. “Alright, dinner tomorrow. Your place or mine? I definitely have a preference for mine if I have to get changed into pretty things.”

“Yours it is, then.”

Orym drew him into another kiss that very quickly turned heated, Dorian’s hand sliding around to palm at his ass while the other cradled his head to devour him at his leisure. Dorian made sure to leave just enough space for him to catch his breath before he was back to smothering him again, slowly drawing him in until he was suddenly tipped over and laid out on his back on the floor with Dorian straddling his lap.

“This feels familiar,” Orym breathed as Dorian rolled their hips together achingly slow. He moaned and arched back against the ground, only able to go so far with the genasi on top of him.

“You know what I’m going to do with you later?” Dorian asked casually, grinding down on Orym again, sending sparks up along his spine. “I’m gunna ride you until I’m satisfied you can’t come anymore.”

Orym groaned, gripping tight to Dorian’s thighs as they boxed him in. “Not now?”

“No. I’m going to make you wait until we’re all done here and I can take my time with you.” He rolled his hips again, setting an agonising pace designed to torture him efficiently. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to wind you up in the meantime. Make you think about how good it’s going to feel to have you inside me for the first time.”

Between watching Dorian’s performance, the outfit and the grinding, he was already on the razor's edge, just barely keeping himself from digging his fingers into Dorian's thighs. Dorian seemed to realise how close he was to snapping and leant over to kiss him, quick and dirty before moving to nip at his ear.

“I’ll give you something to go home and get changed about,” He murmured wickedly before grinding down on him hard and fast, the exact way he knew drove Orym wild and sent him careening over the edge, coming undone in his pants with a startled groan. He'd barely stopped trembling before the embarrassment kicked in and he slid his hands up over his face. Dorian chuckled lowly and pressed apologetic kisses to his hands.

“Oops. Sorry.”

He didn’t sound very apologetic though, nor did he look it, when Orym finally peered at him from between his fingers. Then he laughed fondly and Orym found himself joining in. As embarrassed as he was, he couldn’t help feeling the bubbling joy that came with Dorian’s earlier admission. The confirmation of feelings and the fact that Dorian really did like him. He’d suspected it, of course, but it was nice to know completely and utterly that he wasn’t seeing stars where they didn’t exist. Dorian collapsed on top of him, both of them wheezing and giggling, Orym wrapping his arms up around him, still riding that post-orgasm high. Then slowly the dawning realisation sunk in.

"Dorian, are those cameras still rolling?"

Dorian stopped dead, snapping his gaze over to the nearest one before he blushed violet.

"Whoops. Guess I'll have to edit these before I send them off."

Orym descended back into another fit of giggles and Dorian soon joined him, sliding his arms down under him to cuddle him tightly as they laughed.

--

After Orym cleaned himself up as much as he could without having to go home again, Dorian went through his routine three more times just to ensure he had plenty of footage to work with. Then he encouraged Orym to take advantage of the set-up. So Orym gratefully took the chance to show off a few of the completed routines he had, including the one Dorian had walked in on all those weeks ago, the first time they’d slept together. Dorian, meanwhile, sat on the sidelines with the speaker, watching with interest as Orym threw himself around bodily in time to the music until he was back on the ground, breathing heavily. Their eyes met and Dorian spoke no words as he marched over, curling down to kiss Orym and nip at his bottom lip.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know that right?” Dorian trailed kisses down along his neck. “Let’s pack up so you can take me home already.”

Dorian was only mildly distracting as they packed down all the cameras and lighting, wandering past occasionally to steal kisses and squeeze his ass, before everything was back into the bags that Dorian had brought them in. Then, once Dorian had dressed for the public eye again, between the two of them they carried everything out to his car in one trip before collecting their bags from the studio and locking up for the evening. Hand in hand, they quickly walked the block back to Orym’s apartment; the door barely shut closed behind them before Dorian was on him, hoisting him up to press him back against it, sealing their lips together. Orym hummed, wrapping his arms around Dorian’s neck and his legs as far as they would go around his waist. He could definitely get used to this, a different taste of Dorian on his tongue, hesitant yet no less sweet. He’d wanted it for so long and he hadn’t been disappointed.

Only once he was appropriately breathless did Dorian draw back to switch to kissing down his neck again, nipping at the skin to tease.

“Bedroom?” Dorian murmured.

“Please.”

Dorian immediately turned and carried him through the house and into the bedroom, dumping Orym down into the mattress so hard he bounced before beginning to strip. Orym shuffled back a little to give him some room, wrestling his sweater up and off his head in the meantime. When he looked again, Dorian had shed both his trackies and his shirt and was crawling up the bed to follow after him. He was still wearing the white bodysuit minus the skirt and looked divine as he came to a stop, hovering over Orym. The long lines of his body were accentuated by the lingerie, the long spill of his hair over his shoulder, the half-lidded eyes that watched him, knowingly. It wasn’t often he was rendered speechless, though around Dorian it was a more common occurrence, and just let his hands drift up to grasp at Dorian’s hips, guiding him down to straddle him, cocks pressing together with stirring interest.

“This really does it for you, huh?” Dorian asked, spreading a palm wide across Orym’s chest, holding him down but not pinning him. “The lingerie.”

“Until you, I didn’t know that did.” Orym squeezed his hips fondly. “But you could be wearing your oldest, rattiest outfit and I would still think you were the most beautiful creature I’d ever laid eyes on.”

Even in the low light that slipped in through the shuttered curtains, Orym could just make out the violet blush that dusted his cheeks as he leant over closer to steal a soft kiss.

“Now you’re just flattering me.” He rolled their hips together languidly. “But you should probably take off your pants unless you intend to make a mess in them again.”

“And whose fault was that?”

Orym shot back, wiggling a little so Dorian would sit back enough that he could reach the laces to untie them. Dorian then stripped them the rest of the way off for him, tossing them aside before going crawling up the bed for the nightstand to retrieve the lube.

“How are you supposed to fuck me while you’re still wearing clothes?” Orym teased as Dorian settled back in his lap.

“It’s a stretchy fabric; I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I don’t mind this getting a bit dirty.”

Dorian winked and grinned at him, causing a familiar shiver of excitement down his spine and sent him scrambling for the lube. With a healthy dose smeared on his fingers, he coaxed Dorian over to kiss him lazily while his hand trailed down and followed the line of his underwear around until it vanished into the cleft of his ass. From there, Orym carefully worked aside the fabric to replace it with his fingers, pressing against his hole. At the touch, Dorian gasped a little against his lips, rocking back against his hand, but it quickly turned into a low whimper as Orym gently began to work his finger in. Dorian opened up easily enough under his ministrations and by the time he had an entire finger buried in him, Orym was addicted to the sweet little noises he made with each movement. Working in the second finger was just as easy, Dorian’s hips bucking back against him as he fucked himself open slowly, like they had all the time in the world.

But Orym’s cock was getting a little bit more than just impatient at the prospect of fucking him and with three fingers in him, Dorian was more than prepared. So with one last quick thrust just to tease, earning him a little startled gasp, Orym withdrew and stroked lube over himself lazily as Dorian readjusted. With a little bit of manoeuvring and holding aside his thong, Dorian sank down onto his cock at long last, taking Orym straight down to the hilt inside him with one slow sigh of breath. Orym tensed instinctively and Dorian shuddered a little before tensing back with a vice grip around his cock, causing him to groan and roll back his eyes. Orym reached up to rest his hands on Dorian’s hips, pressing his thumbs into the crease of his legs to keep him still for a moment, letting them adjust and bask in the moment briefly. Dorian placed his hands over Orym’s, and when he looked up he was greeted by the sight of Dorian smiling, a little vacant, like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

Orym couldn’t believe this was happening either, to tell the truth. When he’d started sleeping with Dorian, the genasi had always led the narrative and dictated exactly how and when Orym would take his pleasure; whether by his hand, mouth or cock. And while he’d been allowed to touch and taste on occasion, like that fateful night where he’d let Orym rend him apart and do as he pleased, tonight had been the first time Dorian had expressed any interest in riding Orym’s cock. And not that he was complaining but he couldn’t help but wonder if this was another of Dorian’s defences coming into play. He’d openly admitted he liked Orym and that was a big vulnerability for him to have expressed. Maybe this was his way of trying to take back the control he felt he needed while also giving Orym something. Perhaps he would bring it up with him later once he was all gooey from orgasm and a little bit more open to talking freely.

“Kiss me,” Orym requested softly and Dorian dutifully leant down to do so, kissing him languidly for a long moment.

“Ready?” Dorian breathed, meeting Orym’s gaze steadily.

“I will do something very unwise if you don’t start moving soon,” Orym teased, stealing another kiss. Dorian chuckled and shook his head.

“Brat.”

Finally, Dorian moved slowly, rolling his hips and drawing an elongated sigh of a moan out of Orym as his cock slid out of Dorian’s hole until only the head remained inside. Then he suddenly slammed their hips back down together with a short, sharp motion that caused Orym to writhe. Dorian was out to kill him. With a knowing smirk, as if he could sense Orym’s thoughts as the halfling looked up at him a little slack-jawed, Dorian set the pace, fucking himself on Orym’s cock without abandon. There was little Orym could do but arch back into the sheets and clutch onto Dorian’s hips for dear life as his- as Dorian took his pleasure. After a moment, he carefully changed the angle at which he struck with a simple roll of his hips and a noise that nearly sent Orym off into the deep end. But he wrangled himself back into line just as Dorian tilted his head back with another gasping moan.

Orym lost track of time in the motions of Dorian above him, so entranced by each noise and twisting face of pleasure he made, watching him shiver and quake with each spine-shivering ripple of arousal he burned with. His satisfaction would always come second if he could have watched Dorian like this forever. And then Dorian was suddenly leaning over him, crashing their lips together like waves as he continued to bounce and fuck himself on his cock, stealing the breath from his lungs with each kiss he stole.

“Orym,” Dorian moaned, his grip on the sheets tightening. “Oh, Orym.”

On the next bounce, Orym suddenly thrust up to meet him instinctively, causing Dorian to practically sing with the high note he hit. Encouraged, Orym planted his feet to give himself more leverage and matched his pace, fucking into him. Dorian shuddered and moaned wantonly into the side of his neck followed by a sharp gasp of his name and a curse. But he didn’t stop him as Orym gripped his hips and coaxed him to speed up just a smidge so he could snap his hips rhythmically to a sweat-soaked beat that had Dorian shivering and clawing at the sheets. Dorian latched back onto his neck, sucking hard and fast hickeys into every inch he could reach between groans of his name and ‘yes, there, please’. When the sounds he was making grew solidly higher in pitch, Orym finally released his death grip on one hip in order to rub his thumb roughly up the underside of Dorian’s cock, still trapped in the confines of his bodysuit, untouched aside from this moment.

The touch sent Dorian tumbling over the edge with a sudden, broken cry into the curve of Orym’s shoulder. Dorian trembled through his orgasm, his hole turning vicelike around Orym’s cock as the halfling continued to fuck into him.

“Can I…?”

“Yes.”

Armed with permission, Orym raked a hand up into Dorian’s hair and pulled him down to crush their lips together as he thrust a final time and came inside him with a low rolling groan. And he wasn’t sure if he blacked out a little or not, but when he came back to himself, Dorian was sucking on his bottom lip gently before pressing kiss after kiss to him. Orym tried to reciprocate but his limbs felt like jelly and his mind was quickly turning to mush. Probably because it was his second orgasm of the night and he always got a little loopy after that.

“‘S good?” Orym asked a little drunkenly through Dorian’s kisses.

“Really good,” Dorian praised softly. “So good to me.”

Orym hummed and used the hand still tangled in Dorian’s hair to hold him steady for a moment so he could steal a lasting proper kiss before letting go completely and falling back exhausted into the sheets. Dorian chuckled and sat back on his haunches.

“Reckon you have one more in you?” He teased, wiggling his hips. Orym groaned and covered his face.

“No. I adore you but please no.”

Dorian laughed brightly and ran his hands over his chest. “That’s okay, I’m pretty satisfied with that result.”

“Yeah?” Orym propped himself up on his elbows and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Mh, yeah.”

Dorian leant down and they were kissing again, slow and methodical, like he was trying to map out every inch of Orym’s lips. It was pleasant and relaxing, slowly threatening to lull him into the depths of sleep. But then Dorian bit his lip and startled him back to alertness.

“You staying the night?” Orym asked instead and Dorian smiled.

“Well, yeah…if you don’t mind.” He flushed a little. “However, we have a minor hiccup first. You kinda came in me and we have no towel and I don’t want to get your sheets too dirty and my shirt is on the ground.”

Orym blinked. “That…is a bit of a problem. Uh, do we wanna just like…roll?”

“I mean, I guess we can try?”

It was a little bit awkward but somehow they managed to roll themselves over to the edge of the bed, to the point where Dorian could reach down and scoop up his shirt, sacrificing it for the sake of Orym’s sheets. Once Dorian had traded his bodysuit for his trackies, they collapsed side by side onto the pillows, exhausted and satiated, warm in all the right places.

“I’m gunna need my sweater back now, you know?” Dorian teased, rolling over to snuggle comfortably into Orym’s side.

“Good,” Orym pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Then I can steal it back and it’ll smell like you again.”

Dorian huffed through his nose. “Brat.”

Orym leant over and stole another kiss. “Menace.”

They fell asleep together not long after, once he'd returned from checking the locks, cuddled warmly in each other's embrace.

Chapter Text

You are the only one
The only one that sees me, trusts me and believes me
You are the only one
The only one that knows me and in the dark you show me
Yeah, it's perfectly reckless
Damn, you leave me defenseless
So break in

Dorian didn’t enjoy the days when he didn’t have to work. Where there were no commissions or streams or endless messages that he had to either block or reply to. It left too much time for thinking, too much time for worries and anxieties to creep in and latch onto whatever insecurities had risen. Like, currently, the situation with Orym. He’d followed Dariax’s advice and had told Orym that he liked him to a positive response in return. But the worry still churned away in his gut. They still hadn’t become official or even agreed that they wanted to be exclusive. And he was so invested in this relationship now, terrified and waiting for the moment it all blew up in his face just like all the others. If Orym left, he’d just be back at square one nursing yet another broken heart.

So he attempted to focus back on the videos he was trying to cut down to send through to his editor, but unfortunately, that wasn’t helping today either. Probably because he’d stupidly recorded the whole confession and could watch back his shame repeatedly in high definition. At least he knew he looked good riding Orym like that, even if he was twice his size. He looked happy with Orym. Knowing he felt it in his chest was one thing but seeing video proof; the way he smiled and laughed so easily when the halfling was around. And kissing him! Now Dorian knew what it was like to properly kiss him and oh, did he enjoy it. He would never get tired of kissing Orym, watching the way his eyes fluttered shut or how he tasted under his tongue. He was addicted and he never wanted to share. Which only brought him back to his first problem, confirming that he was okay with being exclusive.

Dorian started as there was a knock at the door followed by Orym’s voice calling out his name. Then his phone buzzed and with a quick glance, he saw “I’m here” before he was on his feet and heading over to the door to unlock the deadbolt. Immediately upon opening the door, Orym smiled up at him and showed him the grocery bags he was carrying.

“Delivery for apartment 803,” He said before Dorian let him in, closing the door behind him. “I think your doorman might suspect we’re seeing each other; he had to let me in the elevator again.”

Dorian made a face and followed Orym into the kitchen. “You could have just texted me when you were in the lobby. I would have come and fetched you.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think of that until after I was in the elevator already.”

Orym placed his bags down on the floor next to the counter and made to grab one of the chairs from the dining set.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Dorian reached into the space between the fridge and the alcove it sat in and plucked out the small step ladder that he’d ordered and presented it to Orym with a grin. “Here, I got this for you instead.”

However, at Orym’s expression, he felt his heart sink.

“Was this…is this not appropriate? Oh, gods, I’ve offended you haven’t I? I am so sor-”

“Dorian,” Orym cut him off swiftly and accepted the step ladder. “This is very sweet and thoughtful. I…I’m just...it just took me off guard, that’s all. Thank you though, I appreciate it.”

He then flicked the ladder open and marched up to the top step, which made him about the same height as Dorian’s chin.

“Come here,” He opened his arms towards Dorian who immediately sunk forwards into the embrace. “You did good. Not a lot of people think about these kinds of things for us shorter races, so it just…I really appreciate the thought. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Dorian nodded into his shoulder before pulling back. “My friend Dariax is a dwarf so I have a couple of things around here for when he stays over that you’re welcome to. I just…didn’t have anything for the kitchen 'cause he usually just climbs on the counters like an animal.”

Orym snorted. “He sounds like a fun guy.”

“He is! We were college roomies and I think you would get along with him well. Opal, well, she’s another story. If you think I’m dramatic, she takes the cake.”

Orym set up the step ladder at the counter and Dorian helped him move the grocery bags up onto the bench.

“Can I ask how you know Fearne?” Orym asked curiously. “Is it just through OnlyHeroes or…?”

“We met a couple of times before I really started doing porn.” Dorian shrugged a little as he started to help unpack the bags. “We traded numbers and discovered we were both trying to get into the business so we supported each other as best we could. I edited some of her earlier videos for her before my stuff took off but after that, we tried our best to stay in touch both online and in person when we could swing it. She’s been good to me. How long have you two been neighbours?”

“Uh, about two years but it’s really only in the last year or so we got friendly.” Orym went digging through his drawers for utensils. “She threw an orgy in her apartment and invited the entire floor plus a bunch of online people she’d never met. I kinda got dragged inside before I could say no. That party was actually how I also met Ash and Laudna and from there, my friendship circle grew.”

“You went to an orgy and didn’t get laid?” Dorian asked incredulously and Orym blushed.

“People tried but I uh…I wasn’t ready or interested really. But I walked out of there with some new friends who slept off their hangovers on my couch and have been a wonderful addition to my life.”

Dorian smiled and reached over to cover Orym’s hand with his own. “I’m glad you went to that orgy.”

Orym blinked rapidly. Dorian continued quickly.

“Because if you hadn’t met Fearne that night, she might never have sent me that link to your videos and I might never have met you. So…what I’m trying to say is…I’m glad I met you and that we’re here now.”

“Oh.” Orym still looked adorably bemused but leant over to peck a kiss on his cheek. “I’m glad I met you too.”

“But you are in trouble though.” Dorian booped his nose and Orym raised an eyebrow.

“How come?”

Dorian tucked his shirt up under his chin and peeled down his pants just enough to show Orym his hips, specifically the thumb-shaped bruises pressed into the crease where his leg met his pelvis and right where Orym had had his hands on him the night before. He’d noticed them this morning after coming home to shower and change and while the idea of them sent a thrill through him, to be marked and claimed by Orym, they were pretty bad for business if they were noticed. Orym took a moment to examine them.

“Oops.” He deadpanned with a smirk. “What a shame.”

“Orym.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll take more care next time and won’t damage the merchandise.” Orym turned back to the counter. “Now, are you going to help me peel these potatoes?”

“I have never peeled a potato before in my life.”

“No better time to learn then.”

However, Dorian very quickly found himself being ejected from the kitchen, firstly for not only nearly taking his finger off with the peeler but also for being too distracting, squeezing Orym’s ass cheeks every second chance he got. So Dorian forlornly returned to his laptop on the couch and pulled up the footage of Orym’s routines to begin cutting out all the empty spaces where Orym had wandered off camera; namely in order to steal kisses from Dorian on the sidelines. Between the three cameras, he had a lot of footage to work through and it at least kept him distracted until Orym was calling out to let him know that dinner was ready. He was just about to get up when Orym instead wandered over with two full plates and handed one off to Dorian.

“Glad I thought to bring my own steak knives,” Orym teased and Dorian stuck his tongue out at him in retaliation. “I hope you like it.”

Dorian examined the meal before him of mash, vegetables and a generous piece of steak smothered in mushroom gravy. Logically, he’d known exactly what Orym had been making - he’d asked about Dorian’s allergies and how he liked his steak - but to actually see the meal in front of him and know that it had been cooked specifically for him sent little butterflies through his stomach.

“It looks amazing, Orym. Thank you.”

As it turned out, it tasted amazing as well and Dorian was quick to tell Orym as much before shovelling another bite into his mouth.

“Well, I always was the better cook,” Orym said proudly between bites and Dorian chuckled.

“Than your ma? That’s a pretty bold claim, Orym, to say you’ve outdone your own mother.”

Orym suddenly choked on his mouthful. Dorian quickly leant over to pat him on the back as he hacked and coughed around his piece of steak. Orym slowly regained himself, but not before Dorian noticed the odd, painful and slightly panicked expression that flickered over his face. Not like he was in physical pain, but as if he’d just remembered something painful. That confused Dorian a little. He knew for a fact that Orym’s Ma was alive and well, even after her accident. But also, maybe now wasn’t the time to bring it up when they were supposed to be just having a nice little date night. So he just patted Orym’s back and waited until he spoke.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, are you okay?”

“Yeah just…yeah.”

They lapsed back into silence for the rest of the meal, Orym seeming a little distant and stuck in his own head. Dorian, being the awkward mess he was, didn’t know what was appropriate to talk about so it stayed quiet. In the end, Orym collected up the empty dishes and Dorian trailed after him to bump him out of the way when he attempted to wash them, earning him a raised eyebrow and a half smile. When the dishes were done and stacked away, they retreated to the couch again, Dorian coaxing Orym in to straddle his lap so they could kiss and he could roam his hands all over him, taking the chance to enjoy each lean and ropey muscle he could touch. Orym squirmed a little under the attention, but soon was rolling his hips against Dorian’s distractingly and Dorian was easily tempted. But before he could press Orym back into the couch cushions and have his way with him, his phone suddenly went off, buzzing incessantly on the coffee table beside his laptop. Orym nipped at his lips before leaning over to grab it for him, passing it to him so he could answer it with a quick glance at the caller ID.

“Cyrus?” He asked curiously.

“Hey! How’s my eighth favourite pornstar?” Cyrus sounded tired.

“I’d be worried if I was any higher on the list, Cy.” Orym carefully clambered out of his lap to perch beside him. “What’s up? Isn’t it like super early there in Emon?”

Cyrus laughed brightly. “Yeah but I’m excited and couldn’t sleep and wanted to tell you something.”

“What’s got you so worked up?”

“I have a free week coming up and enough money saved on the side to catch a flight out!” Dorian almost missed it when he continued eagerly. “-so I can finally, actually come and visit your ass in Marquet without them trying to complain about it. It’s not on their dime so they can’t stop me from what I do with my free time.”

Dorian swallowed heavily. “Still, I would be careful; they’ll be pissed when they find out.”

“Eh, it’ll be fine. By the time they realise I’m gone, I’ll be with you anyway and I’ll deal with the fallout after. So yeah, I’m coming to Marquet! I get to see my dumb-ass brother and maybe meet some of his hot friends.”

Dorian snorted. “What makes you think I have hot friends?”

“You work porn, dude; if your friends aren’t hot then they are in the wrong business.”

Dorian let his eyes land on Orym for a moment before he looked away with a flush. “I suppose there's a couple of people I’d like you to meet. Maybe.”

“That’s the spirit, little brother. We’ll hit all the best bars in town and make a party of it. Anyway, what else is good?”

“Well, uh, I actually have a guest so-”

“Ah shit, sorry, Bron, I’ll leave you to it then and we’ll talk later then. I’ll let you know when I hit the ground in a few weeks, alright? I expect only the best of fold-out couches awaiting me.”

Dorian laughed. “You’d be lucky to get that Cy. See ya.”

Cyrus’ laughter echoed out as Dorian hung up the phone and stared down at the screen for a long moment.

“Good news?” He jumped a little as Orym placed a hand on his arm. Then he smiled.

“Yeah. Cy’s planning a visit soon.” He frowned suddenly. “I’m going to have to put a lock on my office door so he can’t just wander in there.”

Orym chuckled. “Likes to poke his nose in places?”

“No, nothing malicious like that; he’s just an idiot who will forget where the bathroom is. And if the door is locked then he, hopefully, will generally rationalise I wouldn’t lock the bathroom on him.”

“You hope?”

“Look, my brother is in school to be a lawyer, he’s good with words and documents. Common sense on the other hand…”

“Runs in the family then I see.”

“Hey!” Dorian pounced, knocking Orym back flat onto the couch under him. “I have plenty of common sense.”

“Mh, sure you do. About the same amount I have in the way of height.”

“So cruel!” Dorian allowed Orym to coax him down into a sweet kiss. “And now you’re just trying to sugarcoat it and soothe my ego.”

Orym chuckled again and gently brushed his thumbs over his cheeks. “So…you maybe have someone or other you want your brother to meet?”

Dorian felt himself flush violet. “Yeah. Maybe. If he’d want to? I mean you don’t have to seeing as we’re not…you know…but like, maybe?”

“You know?” Orym asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean…we haven’t really…discussed what's happening here or what we want and so…”

“So let’s then.” Orym suggested. Dorian sat back on his haunches and Orym followed after, propping himself up on his elbows before he continued.

“Tell me some things that you want out of this and I’ll tell you some of mine and we’ll see what we can agree to. Negotiate the terms of the contract if you will.”

Dorian twisted his hands together nervously. “Oh…okay…”

“You want me to go first?” Orym asked and smiled when Dorian nodded quickly. “Alright, what I would like, firstly, is more nights like this where we just spend time together. We can call them dates if you want, if you’re comfortable with that idea. Maybe I can cook us dinner again or we can watch a movie or both. Either way, that's something I would like. What do you think, would you like that?”

“I…I think I would like that, yes.” Dorian considered for a moment. “I…I can ask for anything within reason?”

Orym nodded. “Within reason.”

“I’d…I want us to be exclusive.” Dorian blurted out and Orym started a little. “I don’t want to sleep with other people and I’d want you to do the same.”

Orym blinked at him for a moment as he braced himself for the denial of the one thing he wanted most.

“Okay. I can agree to that.”

He felt like he might pass out. “...what?”

Orym smiled. “I can agree to that. That was actually going to be my next thing but I’m glad you said it first so we’re on the same page.”

“Wait, it’s really something you want?”

“Yes,” Orym shifted so he could reach up to hold Dorian’s face. “I know some people have multiple entanglements going at once but I’ve never been that kind of guy. I’m committed to whatever we make of this and just this. Okay?”

Dorian might just have melted a little bit into Orym’s hands, covering them with his own. “Okay. What's another thing you want?”

“On the same sort of subject line, and you don’t have to have an answer for me yet, but I’d really kind of like to change you from ‘the guy I’m sleeping with’ to ‘the man I’m dating’ because this feels like it’s a bit more serious now than it was when we started sleeping together.”

Dorian chewed his lip. “I…I think I can agree with that. This is…yeah we’re…I think I like the idea of saying we’re dating. I mean tonight was kinda a date after all and we both want to be exclusive and yeah…yeah that's okay.”

Orym relaxed a little. “Cool. Uh…what’s another thing you want?”

“I…would like more sleepovers.”

“At my place?” Orym asked and Dorian looked away shyly.

“Not always. I might like you to stay here on occasion when I’m not half delirious from fever. Like tonight after a movie?”

Orym smiled. “Yeah? You want me to stay over?”

“Yes please.” Dorian coaxed him in to steal a kiss. “Not every night but sometimes would be nice. Tonight would be nice.”

“Okay. We can do that.” Orym stole another kiss. “So we agree, we’re dating exclusively and we both like the idea of date nights and sometimes sleeping over afterwards.”

“Yes, that’s…that sounds perfect.” Dorian brought Orym’s hands to his lips to kiss them softly. “You know, I really like you, Orym.”

Orym beamed. “I really like you too, Dorian.”

They settled back onto the couch and Dorian let him pick the movie. Halfway through, however, he became too distracted sucking bruises onto Orym’s neck and they soon retreated into the bedroom for the evening. Curiously, Orym rose not long after they’d finished, pottering over to the window to fiddle with the lock before heading out under the guise of a glass of water. But when Dorian nosily followed him out, a heartbeat behind so as to not be seen, he instead found Orym going along the windows in the living room checking the ones with locks to ensure they were fully closed and sealed. Dorian then quickly returned to his bedroom to wait for Orym to return, listening to the sound of him padding past and into the bathroom. After a moment Orym’s footsteps went back past the bedroom again towards the living room. It then took another minute or so before Orym finally appeared in the doorway with a glass of water.

Dorian didn’t ask and Orym offered no explanation as he placed his glass of water on the bedside before he crawled back in next to Dorian. They curled around one another quietly, settling in for sleep but it didn’t find him quickly. All he could wonder was what had happened to Orym to make him so paranoid about the locks on an eighth-floor condo.

--

Over the following weeks, it turned out to be fairly easy to negotiate a schedule where they were both happy with the results. Whelsens quickly turned into the night Dorian slept at Orym’s and from there, Yulesen’s became Dorian’s night. But it wasn’t exclusive to those nights either, sometimes Orym would let him stay over other nights if it got late and he was too tired to drive home after a date or if Orym was over and Dorian decided he wanted him to stay - which was turning into a common occurrence. In the end, Dorian ended up clearing out one of the drawers in his nightstand so Orym could keep a few things there for the nights when he spontaneously stayed over. But for as much time as they spent at each other's homes, it was still very much an evening-only event. Dorian still felt deeply uncomfortable with the idea of Orym being there during the day when he was working and Orym, thankfully, respected that.

But it wasn’t like he didn’t invite Orym into pieces of his reality; like entrusting Orym with a copy of his PO Box key with the request to pick it up for him if he had time, as Dorian was nervous about going out in the public eye often. Orym had been blessedly sweet about it and the next time he’d come over, he’d brought with him an assortment of packages for Dorian to go through. Some were orders he’d placed and been waiting for, some were things fans had sent him and some were very creepy messages that Dorian didn’t even blink twice at, tossing them aside for the more interesting things. Orym was naturally alarmed by the creepy mail, but Dorian waved it off as being used to it. After all, he lived in a very upscale apartment with a deadbolt and a doorman; he was very difficult to get to and they wouldn’t find him. Orym didn’t seem convinced but let it slide when Dorian happily showed him some of the new lingerie he’d brought.

Dorian also began to feel comfortable calling a lot more. He tried not to blow up Orym’s phone, of course, but every so often, especially after a particularly taxing video or stream while he’d been lounging in the bath, he’d pick up the phone and if Orym was available he would call him. He didn’t like to talk about the things that he did, but just listening to Orym talk about his day while he pottered around watering his plants or doing laundry turned out to be the best decompress he’d ever had. Once or twice, Dorian had nearly fallen asleep like that, listening to Orym chatter before the halfling had gently reminded him to go to bed. And on a few very rare occasions, he’d asked Orym to come around and they’d ended up cuddling on the couch with Dorian enjoying Orym’s warmth and the way he soothingly tangled his hair into braids as he talked absently about nothing and everything at once. At least once or twice, however, he’d pounced on Orym at the door and dragged him into his bed to have his way with him.

And Orym took it all in stride. He never once made Dorian feel ashamed of what he did for work or pushed him for details he didn’t want to talk about. Dorian did wonder if that was just Orym being considerate or if this was another boundary he wasn’t willing to push out of fear it might send Dorian spiralling. Which it might have if he was honest with himself, so there was that. It was also the first time in a long time that he’d had home-cooked meals again. He soon discovered Orym loved to cook and was also an excellent cook in general and after almost every time he visited, Dorian would later find a stash of frozen meals in his freezer ready for him to just reheat when he got hungry. The first time he discovered them, his heart did silly little thuds and butterflies flapped in his chest at the realisation that Orym had made extra with him specifically in mind.

Not everything was wonderfully easy, though. Dorian knew he wasn’t easy to be around and sometimes he snapped back more harshly than he should have, especially when boundaries were pushed by Orym. Like the first time Orym had wrestled him onto his back, innocently flirting, but it had sent him off the handle and he’d nearly thrown Orym off the bed in his panic. They’d talked about it a little afterwards and agreed they would ease into it if it was still something he wanted to try later on. Though he doubted it for reasons he didn’t want to discuss with Orym. And it also didn’t help that Dorian was just very petty, especially when it came to Orym’s time. He knew logically he couldn’t have Orym’s attention all the time, but he was still extremely put out whenever Orym would cancel or decline to come over because he was spending time with friends. That was something that was important to Orym and his boundaries and he wanted to respect that, so he just silently stewed at home those nights. At least now he sat comfortably with the confirmation that they were exclusive and he didn’t need to feel like he was going to lose him to someone else anymore.

It also wasn’t like Orym didn’t drive him up the wall sometimes as well. Especially his thing with the locks. Dorian had originally wondered if it was just a thing he did in new, unfamiliar places but then he remembered Orym did it at his own place as well. And the more he watched, the more he noticed that it seemed to be an every-night occurrence and there was a routine to it. Orym would start off with whatever room he was in first, which when Dorian was there was usually the bedroom; checking to make sure each lock on the window was tightly closed. Then he’d move to the living room windows before the bathroom, then finally, lastly, he’d check the front door locks exactly three times. Sometimes, if he was extra anxious, he’d double-check the bedroom windows before he’d head to bed.

Dorian tried, once or twice, out of curiosity, to keep him distracted in bed until he fell asleep. But instead, his tiny body would thrum with nervous energy until Dorian let him up - or he’d come up with an excuse like he needed some water or the bathroom - and he’d be out checking the locks in the living room within seconds. Even when they were at Dorian’s apartment, he’d do the same, in the same order - bedroom, living room, bathroom and then the front door. However he never entered any rooms he knew he wasn’t welcome into, like Dorian’s office space, so instead, he would just check to make sure the door was closed properly.

Dorian did ask what it was about and Orym was a little vague with the answer, stating he just liked to be careful. Dorian could smell the lie from across the kitchen and knew there was something deeper at play here. But he didn’t press and let Orym go back to making dinner. He might not have been a smart man, but he wasn’t stupid. Orym had scars - scars that didn’t belong with a man who pole danced for a living, scars that reeked of tragedy and suffering. Scars from wounds that might have killed him if he hadn’t been lucky. And Dorian had also noticed that sometimes in the night Orym startled awake in a panic, gasping and clutching at the sheets like a lifeline before turning over to soothe himself back to sleep, not realising he’d also woken Dorian in the process. He wanted to know what it all meant; what dots connected where and how and why. He wanted to know Orym’s inner clockwork like a constellation and as fate would have it, he soon found out the reason behind Orym’s paranoia in the worst way possible.

Chapter Text

I'm a cage, I'm a prison for what no one sees
Ashamed like I'm sleeping with the enemy
No one believes me, but I'm six feet deep
It's a monster made of memories
It's alive, like a parasite inside of me
And it feeds of the trauma of what used to be

Orym always enjoyed movie night at Dorian’s. The couch was more comfortable than his own, the screen bigger and best of all, Dorian was there to cuddle him into his side as they flicked through the online streaming services options. It was the closest he came to feeling completely and utterly safe, tucked up under Dorian’s arm, full of a good meal that he’d cooked for the both of them, ready to drop off at a moment’s notice. Later, Dorian would no doubt stir him awake trying to carry him to bed like the last two times and he’d have to escape in order to check the locks. He was rather surprised Dorian hadn’t pressed harder on it, he knew it was an odd habit to keep and he deserved to know the story behind it. It wasn’t like he wanted to keep Will a secret but there had just never been a good time. At first, Dorian had been flighty, still was sometimes, and now the longer they went on like this, the weirder it felt that he still didn’t know the full extent of the truth.

He was finally coming to the realisation that it would never be a good time to have the conversation, that no matter how much he padded it in order to not spook Dorian, the truth coming out was going to hurt them both in someway and, like a bandage, maybe just had to be ripped off. So as they settled in, Dorian finally having selected some action movie he’d never seen before, he decided, tonight after they’d talk and maybe finally he’d get out the words he’d been dreading. Dorian deserved to know the truth, to know what kind of damaged goods he was getting out of this relationship, so he could decide whether it was worth pursuing further. And he wanted to pursue this further, wanted everything Dorian was willing to give him and make what they could out of it. He wasn’t one to just half-ass a connection he was invested in.

With that settled in his mind, Orym cuddled a bit further into Dorian’s side, trying to think up the best way to start this conversation. However, he soon became distracted by the movie, the main protagonist being startled awake in the middle of the night by mysterious sounds in their home. An awfully familiar sense of fear and dread shivered down his spine and as the baseball bat made contact with the protagonist's head, Orym jumped so badly that Dorian started as well.

“Orym?”

Dorian’s voice sounded like he was talking underwater, muffled out by the low-pitched whine that now rang in his ears as he stared unblinking at the TV as the bad guys continued to pound on the protagonist and he could feel it, feel every hit and blow as if he were reliving it all over again and instinctively clutched at his side where his scars suddenly ached in reminder. He barely registers it when Dorian goes flying for the remote and the entire TV blinked out in an instant but still, he stared, stared as he remembers the blood pooling, the voices taunting, he’d been too late, he’d been too late-

“Orym!”

He blinked at long last, snapping focus to meet Dorian’s worried gaze, feeling hands holding his head gently, thumbs brushing along his cheeks to wipe away at the tears he hadn’t noticed. He knew he should answer, tell him not to worry and that he’d be fine but when he opened his mouth no words came out. Just a startled little whimper. So he just closed it again and shuddered, digging his nails into his side, trying to claw his way back to this plane of existence. Dorian wasn’t ready for this side of him, it wasn’t fair to dump this on him like this, but his mind still betrayed him, still spiralled so helplessly out of control that more tears pooled even as he bit down on his lip harshly, attempting to wrangle himself back into himself.

“...can I hug you?” Dorian asked uncertainly and it took Orym much longer than he wanted to admit before he was able to nod. Instantly Dorian wrapped him up in a tight embrace, smoothing his hands up along his back. Orym sank into the hug, his hands latching onto Dorian, balling fists into the back of his shirt. It was only then he realised he was trembling something fierce and Dorian seemed to notice as well.

“Come on, I know something that will help.”

Dorian gently manoeuvred him in order to scoop him up bridal style, pressing him even further into his chest and Orym clutched on tighter in response. He was then immediately carried into the bathroom and over to the giant spa Dorian called a bathtub. He sat on the edge, carefully balancing Orym in his lap in order to strip off Orym’s socks and toss them aside before going for the tap and flicking it on. As the tub began to fill, Dorian helped wrangle Orym out of the rest of his clothes so that by the time the tub was halfway filled, he could slowly begin to sink into it, guided by Dorian’s hands. The water was the perfect temperature, warm and cozy, like sinking into dryer heated sheets after a long day. Still, he trembled the whole way to sitting in the water, so afraid his legs were suddenly going to give out on him. But Dorian was there, steady and gentle, helping him settle into the bottom of the tub. He let the tub fill a little bit higher, just about to mid-chest, before shutting off the water and combing a hand through Orym’s hair, pushing it out of the way of his face.

“I wanna ask if you’re okay but…I can see that you’re not. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Orym considered for a moment before he gave him a thumbs down, still not able to trust his voice.

“No? Okay. Maybe soon though?”

Orym gave him a thumbs up and nodded a little.

“Alright, soon then. Just, relax for a little bit and I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Orym quickly reached out to latch onto Dorian’s leg and pressed down, shaking his head furiously. Dorian seemed to take the hint and sat back down on the edge of the tub, covering Orym’s hand with his own.

“No water? You want me to stay?”

Orym nodded and shifted over a little in order to rest his forehead against Dorian’s leg. Dorian made a little sigh of a noise before he had his hand back in Orym’s hair, combing through it comfortingly. Orym closed his eyes tightly, letting the motion of Dorian’s fingernails across his scalp ground him back into his body. So much so that he must have dozed a little because he started awake with a small jump when his head slipped. When he looked up, Dorian was watching him wide-eyed, his other hand ready to catch Orym’s head should it threaten to tip any further. Upon catching Orym’s eye, he smiled a little hesitantly and touched his cheek.

"Hey, you back with me?" He asked softly and after a moment Orym found it in him to nod.

"Yeah…” His voice sounded rough but usable. “Yeah…sorry."

"No, no, no," Dorian sank to his knees beside the tub so they were at the same height, holding Orym’s face between his palms. "You don't need to apologise. I just don't understand what happened to you? You just…froze."

Orym swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I, uh..um…it’s…anxiety I think? I have…there's things I haven't told you and even now, I'm terrified of saying the wrong thing and sending you running from me."

"It's okay, just, take your time?” Dorian brushed back the hair out of his face. “I'm not going anywhere."

“You might not say that when I tell you…” Orym muttered mostly to himself before he took a deep breath. “By now you’ve noticed…how I check the doors and locks at night before bed?”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed, kinda hard not to.” Dorian shrugged a little. “But that’s just you; you’re careful and cautious.”

Orym shook his head. “I wasn’t always, Dorian. I’ve made mistakes and it cost…it cost more than I…”

“I’ve seen the scars, Orym. After tonight I think I can guess what happened-”

“But that’s not the whole story!” Orym cut across him before wincing a little at Dorian’s annoyed expression. “Dorian, I was married. I’m a widow.”

There were a few seconds where Dorian just continued to stare at him with a furrowed brow, but his words seem to strike some clarity and his face suddenly opens up to flicker between emotions so rapidly that Orym almost missed them. But he catches enough. The confusion, the dawning horror, the pity. It’s enough that he has to turn away.

“I didn’t check the locks on the living room window one night and some people broke in while we were sleeping. I don’t know if they wanted something or if we were just a random robbery but when we got up at hearing the noises, they attacked us.”

He peeked at Dorian out of the corner of his eye, taking in the devastated expression.

“Our neighbours heard the commotion and called the cops but even then; I barely survived and my husband…Will….he wasn’t so lucky. They were too late to do anything to help him.”

He lapsed into a cold silence, feeling the tears building up before tumbling over to spill down his cheeks. He hated that this had to be the way everything came out, but he supposed in the end at least it was out there now. That Dorian had all the facts and knew a bit more about what he was getting into with Orym, the damage and regret he carried with him every single day of his life. He was waiting for it, the moment Dorian would draw away because it was too much, that he would be too much to handle - Dorian had enough on his plate he didn’t need the added stress of Orym’s trauma on top of that - but instead he found the opposite. Dorian’s hands grasped at him, slippery from the water, half hauling him out of the bath and into his lap even when Orym protested that he was wet.

Dorian just shushed him and curled around him protectively, as if he could somehow singlehandedly keep him safe from everything that was trying to tear him apart internally. And it was nice to imagine for a moment, as he slid his arms around Dorian’s torso and clutched onto his shirt, that burying his face into Dorian’s shoulder like this would solve anything. But life didn’t work that way and he couldn’t pretend for long before the grief and guilt suddenly overtook him again and he sobbed into Dorian’s shirt. Instantly Dorian squeezed him in tighter, not seeming to mind that Orym was soaking his clothes through. So they lingered there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's embrace before Dorian pulled back just enough that he could press a kiss to the side of Orym’s head and cup his opposite cheek to wipe away the remaining tears.

“What do you need? What can I do?” Dorian asked, sounding a little helpless, trailing his thumb down along the tear tracks that marred Orym’s cheeks. “Can I even help?”

Orym bit his lip and shook his head. “I don’t know…I don’t…I’m just so tired. And I’m so sorry I ruined the entire evening-”

“Orym, nothing is ruined.” Dorian cradled his head in his hands. “You had a panic attack because you were triggered by the movie, I’m not going to fault you for that.”

“-and I knew I should have told you about Will sooner, it just was never a good time and then it dragged out into this which never should have happened.”

“Orym you couldn’t have known the movie was going to set you off like this and even if I had known about him, I might have just picked another movie that still set you off? Like, you couldn’t have known?”

“I never wanted him to be a secret,” Orym knew he was spiralling a bit but he had to get the words out else they would fester in his chest like an open wound. “But I was terrified that the knowledge of him would scare you away. That you wouldn’t want someone carrying so much baggage with them into what was originally just sex. And then my feelings happened and your feelings happened and then we ended up here with me a mess on your bathroom floor.”

Dorian hummed softly, reaching over to pick up the washcloth, dunking the corner into the water before beginning to wipe away at the snot and tears that smeared across his face. Part of him wanted to flinch away, that he didn’t need Dorian’s pity, but silently submitted to the attention. Eventually, Dorian spoke.

"I can understand your thought process. If I was in your shoes, I'd probably be thinking the same thing." He hung the cloth over the edge of the bath before turning his full attention back on Orym. "But it is laughable to think that I would be the one to walk away from you."

"Dorian-"

"Orym, I don't care that you were married before. I don't care that you didn't tell me. What I care about is whether or not you're okay, right now?"

Orym pursed his lips. He knew Dorian well enough by now to know his tell when he was lying through his teeth. But he was far from in a position to call him out on it.

"I'm okay. Just tired."

"Okay." Dorian carefully helped him to stand. "Then get that cute little butt of yours into bed and I'll get us some comfort food and check the locks."

Orym grabbed hold of his hands tightly. "I…I actually can't sleep unless I check them myself. I've tried with Fearne before I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't apologise, that's okay. We'll check them together then." Dorian hauled himself to his feet and then looked pointedly down at Orym. "You might want to put something on before we go wandering into a non-tinted windowed room though."

"Oh. Right."

Once he’d pulled a pair of pants on, hand in hand they wandered his usual route, living room, bedrooms, bathroom and then back to the front door to check the deadbolt and the lock. Only once Orym was satisfied everything was shut up properly, did he let Dorian haul him into bed and feed him stupidly expensive chocolates and distract him with jokes and innuendos until his eyelids drooped. Maybe it was a mistake not to talk more about Will and the subsequent breakdown, but Dorian was warm against his side and he already felt safe in the knowledge that the apartment was locked up. He supposed they always had tomorrow to discuss it, when both of them were clear-headed and reasonable. Dorian deserved it delivered when he wasn’t half hysterical from a panic attack.

However the next morning, he’d barely begun to form coherent thought before Dorian was on him, sucking his soul out through his dick and knocking him off course for the rest of the day. Then while Orym showered, he ordered breakfast for the both of them and before Orym could even broach the subject, he announced he had work to do and that Orym should probably head home. Kicking him out by using their set boundaries was a low blow, but he took it with grace, collected up his things and headed out with the hope that maybe Dorian just needed some time and space to come to terms with this new information.

--

It quickly became obvious that Dorian had no intention of talking to him about this like a reasonable adult. Perhaps earlier in their relationship, he might have let it slide but at this point, it was a little ridiculous. Whenever Orym tried to bring it up, or Dorian thought he was trying to bring it up, he'd start the cycle; firstly he'd try to change the subject. When that didn't work, he'd pick up his phone as if he suddenly had an urgent message and if Orym kept going he'd swiftly kick him out under the premise that he suddenly had a work thing to do, knowing Orym would keep his promise to leave. It was petty and childish and frankly, he was over it. The third time it happened Orym finally snapped a little, "Yeah real mature Storm." before exiting and storming his way back down to the lobby.

He was still stewing there, deciding whether he should go to the studio or not in order to work off this frustration that had been slowly building over the last two weeks, when a pair of colourful characters walked in and the woman seemed to zero in on him immediately.

"You," She said almost accusingly, pointing at him as she marched over.

Orym instinctively did a head check but there was no one else in the lobby other than the doorman and she was definitely not going to him. So he made eye contact and pointed at himself.

"Yes, you little halfling twunk of a man, I know who you are." She stopped before him, hands on her hips as the dwarf who'd trailed in behind her appeared at her side.

Something about the sight of him, pinged a memory of months ago; didn't Dorian have a friend who was a dwarf? However before he could ask, the human woman was speaking again.

"You're Orym; Dorian’s little fuck buddy with the dead husband."

Instantly felt his mood sour even further.

"Yeah, thanks for announcing that," He spat before going to push past them. "Glad to know he's telling everyone."

"Wait, wait," The dwarf held up his hands passively, stepping in Orym's way. "Opal doesn't mean to be rude, right Opes?"

"I was just stating facts."

"Eh, we're working on it," He turned back to Orym. "And Dorian wasn't the one who told us. Fearne did."

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better either." He was going to have to talk to her. Again.

"Look I'm sorry, Nancy," Opal apologised, continuing even as Orym mouthed “Nancy?" and looked bewildered. "But you're heading up to see Dor right? Come with us, I got a key for the elevator and his door. He sent me a message asking to day drink and he's got that whole alcohol cabinet with the good shit."

So much for working. “Really? That would be great. I was just about to text him to come get me anyway.”

Opal grinned. “Excellent. Dorian’s a skimp for the details and I wanna know how he finally managed to seduce you. I just know he took my advice in the end.”

She continued to chatter as she swiped the card for the elevator and the three of them stepped in together. Perhaps it was a little petty to arrive back in tow with the friends he was expecting but fuck it, Dorian deserved to sweat a little bit or have to explain to his friends what he’d done. Once they reached Dorian’s door, Opal didn’t even knock, just unlocked it and threw it open, loudly exclaiming that the fun had arrived. It was clear she was comfortable here, tossing her shit haphazardly onto the couch before swinging around to head straight for the kitchen where Orym could hear the sound of a blender shutting off. Meanwhile the dwarf shoved Opal’s stuff aside before clambering up onto the couch to collapse and flick on the TV. They were definitely his close friends.

Opal suddenly gasped from the direction of the kitchen. “Baby, have you been crying?”

That caught his attention and he dumped his bag by the end of the couch quietly before ducking to the corner to see the two of them standing in the kitchen, Dorian batting Opal’s hands away from his face. Neither of them seemed to have noticed him yet and it was probably rude to linger but then Dorian spoke.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. Orym’s just trying to talk to me about stuff and it’s…ugh.” He turned back to the blender, facing away from Orym entirely.

“Like what?”

“Well he…this really isn’t my place to tell the full story but Orym lost someone important and I just know that he knows it bothers me and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh he told you about the dead husband, huh?”

“How the fuck-”

“Fearne told us like…six months ago. We figured you already knew and were okay with it.”

“No! He didn’t! And I’m not ‘okay with it’ Opal!” Dorian snapped. “We’ve known each other almost a year and been been sleeping together almost all that time too and now is the first I’ve heard of it? And apparently, you and everyone else just fucking knew already?”

Opal finally caught sight of Orym. “Dor-”

“-And the worst part is I know how dumb it is to be jealous and petty about this. Orym’s been nothing but wonderful this entire time but I just hate the fact this is the one thing he chose not to tell me for so long-”

“Dorian!” Opal grabbed him by the shoulders and swung him around to see Orym standing there, frozen to the spot. Dorian’s eyes widened.

“Orym.”

The silence that followed was deadly, threatening to choke all the air from his lungs. The guilt of not telling him about Will earlier returns in full force like a kick to the chest. Then Dorian bolted. Immediately, Orym was after him - Opal screaming after the both of them - catching up just in time to shove his foot in the way of the closing bedroom door. Dorian cursed and abandoned the attempt, scrambling for the bed. Orym took the opportunity to slip in and shut the door behind him, only to have a pillow smack him directly in the head when he turned back around.

“What are you doing here!?” Dorian demanded, raising another pillow threateningly from where he was knelt on the bed. “I thought you were going home!”

“I was until I ran into your friends in the lobby and they said you were day drinking.” Orym picked up the pillow, prepared to use it to defend himself if any more pillows were thrown his way. “Dorian, this is why I wanted to talk about this. It’s a big thing I just dumped on you and I wanted to make sure you were alright with it and instead you shut me out.”

“It’s not a problem though!”

“It very clearly is!”

“I just don’t understand why didn’t you tell me?!” Dorian finally screamed, clutching his pillow so tightly Orym thought he was going to rip it in half. “Everyone else fucking knew and I was the one fucking you!”

“What kind of a person would I have been to drop that bombshell on you after like a month of us sleeping together? After two months?” Orym threw up his hands. “And you were already such a flight risk with me just giving you an ounce of affection, what the hell else was I supposed to do? I wanted to wait until you were comfortable and settled with the idea of us before I even considered bringing him up because I knew that it would cause an issue.”

“Oh, because I’m such a drama queen.”

“You are!”

Dorian sneered as Orym continued. "But that's okay because I like that about you. It can be annoying, sure, like right now when you're not talking to me about an issue, but I adore how showy you are."

Dorian turned away, crossing his arms tightly. Orym sighed and stepped over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Come on Dor, talk to me. I know you’re upset about this and I want to make it right-”

“What else is there to say though Orym?” Dorian still stubbornly wouldn’t look at him. “You’re a widower, you didn’t tell me and now I know it’s a fucking name you’ve been muttering in your sleep.”

Orym furrowed his brow. “That’s low.”

“It’s true though, you talk in your sleep. I just…didn’t think it was a name until you told me about him.”

Orym sighed again. “If you’re not going to talk to me seriously about this, I’m just gunna go.”

“Wait, no, you don’t…” Dorian had finally turned, reaching out as if he wanted to grab him and stop him but hesitated halfway. “I’m sorry alright? I just…I don’t know what about it bothers me so much. There’s…a lot of feelings wrapped up in me concerning this and know I should be happy you were so loved by someone and I know I should be sad that you lost him so tragically. But I just…I need some time to sort it out in my head. I’ll get over it, I always do. I just need time to. I’m sorry for being a nuisance.”

Orym carefully stepped around the bed to be closer to him, offering out his hands for Dorian to take before he tangled their fingers together and squeezed.

“That’s something I can actually work with,” He lent over to press a kiss to Dorian’s forehead. “I’ll give you whatever space you need, you just have to tell me instead of kicking me out like you did. I’m never not going to listen to you if you ask something like this of me.”

“Okay.” Orym wasn’t entirely enthused by that answer but at least he’d gotten one. “Are you still going to leave?”

“Yeah, I’ll head off. I should let you spend some time with your friends without me interrupting. And then I’ll see you on Whelsen as usual.”

“Sooner?” Dorian asked hopefully and Orym couldn’t help but smile a little.

“I can do Miresen?” Dorian nodded. “Alright, I’ll come over on Miresen then. Movie night.”

“Your pick this time,” Dorian joked half-heartedly and Orym nodded.

“Yeah, okay.” He drew Dorian in for a quick kiss. “Remember to drink water between your margaritas.”

Dorian screwed up his nose and rolled his eyes. “Yes, dad.”

Orym laughed brightly as he made his way out. “I’ll see you on Miresen!”

Chapter Text

I will bring you ruin in everything I do
It's never my intention, but it happens all the same
It starts with love and comfort, becomes a strength of will
But all that strength made rubble of the towers we built

I'll, brick by brick, rebuild us, out of how's and why's, not when's
Nothing quite prepared me for when that piano sang again
Tomorrow I'll do things different. Tomorrow I'll be brave

It wasn’t often that Dorian found himself dreading when Orym would visit. Normally he might have been plotting what lingerie he was going to spring on him or what position he wanted to try in bed, but lately, since the reveal of Orym’s husband and the fact he was a widower, he’d been sent down several spiralling pathways with barbs that just refused to be plucked out. And he knew what it was like to live in fear, did it most days of his life, but to live in fear of Orym and what answers he might find if he went digging, was the worst kind of fear he’d ever felt. He didn’t want to be afraid but the anxiety gnawed at him like endless hunger and wouldn’t be sated until he asked. And therein was the next problem; how did he even ask? He’d spent all afternoon trying to figure out the most roundabout ways to get the words out of him without realising what Dorian was asking exactly and even then he still couldn’t predict that Orym wouldn’t see right through him once again.

So by the time Orym finally did show up on Miresen, he’d twisted himself so far into a panic that it must have shown on his face, as upon sight of him, Orym raised an eyebrow. Thankfully, he waited until the apartment door had been closed and locked behind them before he turned to Dorian with a knowing look.

“Dor, what’s wrong? You look like you’re about to throw up.”

“I got pancakes,” Dorian said panicked instead, leading the way into the kitchen where he’d left the take-out containers on the bench. “Do you want berries or just syrup?”

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong,” Orym said from beside him and he started, looking down and backing away.

“It’s dumb,” Dorian insisted with a wave of his hands. “It’s stupid, really. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Dorian, that just makes me worry more.” Orym reached out a hand as a peace offering but Dorian didn’t take it. “I told you, there’s nothing you can say that I won’t be willing to listen to.”

“I know, but it’s really dumb, Orym. I just…I wanna watch a movie and eat pancakes and try not to think about it, okay?”

Orym pressed his lips into a thin line for a long moment before he sighed.

“Okay. Just…you can talk to me about anything, Dor. No matter how silly or stupid it seems, your feelings are still valid and sometimes you need to get them out.”

“You sound like a therapist,” Dorian attempted to joke, sliding one of the takeaway containers towards Orym.

“That’s because I spent time in therapy.” He accepted the pancakes with a wry grin.

“Oh.” Dorian felt himself shrink inwards. “Because of…yeah.”

Dorian quickly retreated to the couch with his pancakes and Orym followed after. He folded himself into the corner against the armrest as Orym scooped up the remote and flicked on the TV before settling in beside Dorian. He sat close but not touching, seeming to sense Dorian needed a little bit of distance right now. But at the same time, Dorian just wanted to cross it, to pull Orym into his arms and just be comforted by his familiar weight. But he couldn’t, not with all the thoughts that wouldn’t stop buzzing around his head, winding him up like a spring.

It was stupid to be jealous of a dead man but here he was anyway.

“Do you think of him when we’re having sex?” He finally blurted out suddenly, feeling himself burn with embarrassment. “I mean, your husband, Will, do you think of him when you’re with me?”

Orym had a piece of pancake halfway to his mouth on the plastic fork and as he stared for a long moment, it slowly slid off the end and back into the container. Then he seemed to come back to himself.

“...No. No, of course not. Is that what you’re worried about? You think I would do that?”

He felt his heart drop. “You hesitated.”

Orym’s expression clouded over as he said, warningly, “Dorian.”

He doubled down. “Why did you hesitate?”

Orym set aside his pancakes. “Because you just asked me if I’ve thought about my deceased husband while I’m having sex with you?! What the fuck, Dorian?! Who does that?”

“I don’t know but apparently you because you hesitated!” Dorian exclaimed even as Orym raked a hand back through his hair.

“I wouldn’t do that because it’s fucking weird!”

Dorian sneered. “How am I supposed to believe you when you waited this long to even bring him up!”

“You know exactly why I waited!” Orym shot back angrily. “You’re the one who keeps moving the goalposts, Dorian!

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dorian knew he was wrong to pick a fight. That it was useless and petty and it wouldn’t solve any of the feelings that had been slowly boiling up inside him since the night he’d found out about Will. But part of him couldn’t believe that Orym would ever want him more than he’d want his husband back. That he was lying for the sake of this relationship continuing because he was finally getting everything he wanted out of it. And then there was another fear - of Orym leaving because he was satisfied with the extent this had gone. Dorian couldn’t handle that idea well, like a burning stove that he just kept touching to see if it still hurt. Better to shove him away before he fell much deeper.

“I’m not moving anything! I’m just asking and you hesitated!”

Orym puffed out his cheeks. “Would you rather I lied and said I did?! Would that make you feel better about this?”

“Of course fucking not!”

“Then believe me!” Orym’s eyes turned pleading. “Believe that I haven’t. I hesitated because you just asked me something that seemed so absurd! Do you honestly think that little of us and what that means to me?”

“So I’m absurd now as well?!” He hadn’t meant for the hysterical tone to hit his voice. “So I’m a drama queen and being absurd, great to know Orym!”

He winced. “Dorian, listen to me-”

“I have been! And you know what Orym? All you’ve done is confirm everything I’ve been wondering.” He practically slammed his remaining pancakes down on the coffee table. “You didn’t want to tell me about him sooner so you could keep fucking pretending and I, like an idiot, thought it meant you cared about me.”

“I do care about you!” Orym looked furious, like he’d struck a nerve. “But like I said the other day, when the fuck is a good time to bring up ‘I’m a widow’ to the guy you’re fucking on a semi-regular basis?”

Dorian grit his teeth. This hurt more than he’d thought it would. “Oh, so I’m back to the ‘guy you’re fucking’ now, am I? Because clearly, I’m not worth more than a handful of orgasms and some underwear.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, Dorian Storm!”

He went for the kill without a second hesitation. “Orym’s fucking the pornstar and it’s not serious because how could it be when he’s got a tragically dead husband that he can just imagine is him instead!”

It took Dorian an instant to realise he’d pushed too far. That, instead of rocking the boat he’d completely capsized them and they were now drowning in the silence of his statement. Orym just stared at him, his expression flickering somewhere between pure rage, heartbreak and pain. He felt remorse. He felt ridiculous. Orym stood and he flinched automatically, waiting for the clap back or the fist. Either would have been preferred to Orym turning his back to him, fists shaking at his sides.

“I need a break.”

And then he walked out, the door slamming so hard behind him that the lock didn’t catch and it slowly swung open again, so Dorian had a clear view of Orym’s retreating back as he vanished around the corner towards the elevators. Dorian sat there for a moment longer, waiting for the acceptance to sink in like it always did when someone walked away for the better. But when the anxiety didn’t ease, only twisted up tighter in knots, he found himself on his feet and heading for the kitchen to find his phone.

--

Orym was fuming. He couldn’t even imagine what the doorman must have thought of him, storming out onto the street without his bag after having only been up at Dorian’s apartment for less than an hour. Still, right now, his mind was racing, running through the argument again and again. He shook himself out before starting a jog towards the corner, hoping the physical exercise would work out the worst of the knots of frustration Dorian had expertly tangled into the weave of his being. Orym had long accepted that Dorian could be difficult and thought he’d figured out his ways around that to help temper his worries and concerns when they flared like this. But it was harder when Dorian decided, rather than accepting Orym at his word, to double down and argue for the sake of arguing. And the way he’d flinched several times as if waiting for a fist to hit him, as if Orym would ever strike him like that, made him wonder just how deep Dorian’s trauma ran.

By the time he’d run a third of the block, he’d worked out most of the fury and frustration and had to pause to breathe through the sweat. Now he had a chance to think about what he’d noticed during the argument. Dorian hadn’t really seemed angry, all things considered. He’d been upset, yes, but not angry. Anxious would be a closer explanation for the set of his shoulders and the tremble in his lips. And Will. He was so focused on drawing a connection between himself and Will in Orym’s mind. Was it jealousy, maybe? Worry that maybe Orym didn’t care about him because he’d already had that before in his life? He rubbed at his eyes roughly. It also seemed like Dorian was extremely worried about Orym’s perception of him and that he’d accidentally hurt his feelings in that regard by calling him a drama queen inadvertently. He’d have to be more careful about that in the future.

He finished out the block and came to several conclusions. Firstly, he was going to have to be a bit more repetitive with his open and honest feelings for Dorian and hammer it home that he was indeed invested in their relationship beyond the physical. Secondly, they were really going to have a talk about de-escalating fights before one of them got to the point where they had to walk out like he just did. Thirdly, Orym was going to hunt down Dorian’s exes for sport if his natural reaction to an argument was to flinch back like that.

Thankfully, the doorman let him back in the elevator - seeing as he’d left his phone in his bag so he couldn’t text Dorian to come and get him - and rode it back up to the eighth floor, mentally preparing himself for whatever state Dorian might be in. Then he spotted the door of the apartment wide open and panic kicked in.

“Dorian?” He called as he burst into the living room, his heart in his throat when he didn’t immediately spot the genasi right where he left him. “Dorian!”

He headed for the kitchen next but didn’t even make it that far before he spotted Dorian in a crumpled heap on the floor, visibly not breathing. There was no blood but it still ached in his chest at how much it echoed the past. He hit the ground on his knees next to Dorian, grabbing fistfuls of fabric and hauling him around so he could check to see if he was awake. Instantly, Dorian’s eyes flew open and he looked up uncertainly, meeting Orym’s gaze with tear-soaked cheeks.

“Orym?” It was the most pathetic he’d ever sounded and Orym felt nothing but a surge of affection.

“Yeah, I’m here, sweetheart.”

Dorian moved faster than he’d expected, knocking them both flat on the floor, burying his face into Orym’s chest as he heaved out a sob that threatened to shatter Orym’s heart. He wrapped his arms around Dorian, clutching him tightly and holding on as Dorian shook and sobbed. He tried to do the best he could, soothing his hands through Dorian’s hair, along his shoulders, to ease his worries but it would take time for him to come down from whatever state he’d worked himself up into in Orym’s absence. But he was there, waiting for the moment that Dorian finally stilled and his tears stopped. After a few moments longer, Dorian finally looked at Orym, the disbelief in his eyes a painful reminder. Orym brushed away the last of the stray tears before pressing the softest of kisses to his forehead.

“I think…you should go have a shower and get into your comfiest pyjamas and then we’ll watch a dumb comedy show.”

Dorian sniffed and murmured a quiet, “You promise not to leave?”

“I promise.”

Dorian blinked at him slowly before nodding. Carefully, they untangled from one another, but not before Orym pressed a few more kisses to his face and watched the smile he tried to hide, gently waving Orym off him. Orym waited until he heard the shower running before he began setting up the living room for maximum coziness. He discarded their half-eaten dinners, moved the coffee table, dug out some extra blankets and cushions to make a pile on the floor and set up the movie so all he had to do was press play. Then he went for his bag and dug out his phone, intending to order them some real food for dinner, when he was stopped short by the number of messages on his phone. Several missed calls, new voicemails and more text messages than he could poke a stick at. One quick scroll revealed that all of them were from Dorian. His heart sank as he unlocked his phone and went for the voice messages first.

Message received today at seven twenty-one pm;

“Orym! I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot for picking a stupid, petty fight. You’re coming back, right? Please tell me you’re coming back?? Orym I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please come back, please, I want you to come back.”

Message received today at seven twenty-seven pm;

“I don’t think you’re coming back, are you? Gods I should have known this was all going to blow up in my face. At least this way, I guess I know what I did wrong and I don’t have to wonder if there was anything I should have said to make it any better or worse because I already said the worst to you and I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry Orym, I’m sorry.”

Message received today at seven thirty-four pm;

"-I knew I wasn’t worthy of your care and attention but I wanted it anyway and then I went and ruined it by being the lowest scum of the earth and picking a fight about your dead husband because how else am I supposed to keep your attention when you’re so amazing and I’m just a disaster that’s too broken to function correctly and done nothing but cause you trouble since-"

The first two left him nauseous and then the third sent his blood cold as it cut off. From the sound of it, Dorian had just been winding up on the self-deprecation. It was no wonder he’d been nothing more than a mess on the floor when Orym had returned. He’d thought Orym wasn’t coming back. He dove into his messages with a rising sense of guilt and nausea.

Orym rubbed his chin roughly. This was both enlightening and alarming and he wasn’t sure where to start with it. How many people had left Dorian suddenly before for him to have such a visceral reaction of spiralling panic at the idea that Orym would just up and leave him after one bad fight? Did he really think himself so unloveable that Orym wouldn’t even attempt to work past the roadblocks with him? And all at once, these little pieces that had seemed too abstract and out of place in the persona of Dorian suddenly felt like they fit together with these new pieces and he was starting to see the clearer picture that was the whole image.

Dorian was so deeply scarred, more than likely from past relationships, where he’d probably dated people who had hurt him, physically and mentally and had led him so far down the road of self-doubt that he no longer viewed himself as a person but as a thing to be used and toyed with for others pleasure. Mix that with the almost crippling anxiety he dealt with on a daily basis and you had a recipe for an emotionally touch-starved pornstar who wielded his sexuality like a weapon to defend himself from being vulnerable.

So deep in his thoughts, he missed hearing the shower turn off and it wasn’t until Dorian gasped softly that he realised he’d returned. Orym whirled around to find Dorian frozen in place; his eyes locked onto the phone in Orym’s hand before they flicked up to meet his. For a long moment, they stared at one another, Dorian swaying on the spot like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to run or throw up. Carefully, without breaking eye contact, Orym put his phone down on the side table.

“You saw?” Dorian asked, his voice still a little croaky from the crying.

“Yeah. I saw. And heard.”

Dorian closed his eyes and looked away, as if he was bracing himself.

“I’m not going to yell at you.”

“I’d deserve it,” Dorian mumbled and Orym shook his head.

“What for? What purpose would it serve for me to yell at you right now? Other than to just make you upset again?”

“Because I’m manipulative and I deserve every ounce of your anger.”

Orym carefully took a few steps forward towards him. “Dorian, do you think I only came back because you begged in your messages?”

“...Yes.”

He shook his head. “I left my phone here. I left my bag here. I just needed to clear my head because I was angry and didn’t want to make it worse. I was always coming back, Dor.”

Dorian sniffled and hurriedly wiped his eyes as they teared up again.

“You know what I think?” Orym said and Dorian laughed wetly.

“I think you’re going to tell me anyway.”

He smiled sadly. “I think a lot of people have hurt you and you’re still reacting to that damage even now. But I’m not them, Dorian and while I don’t know how to show you that except with time and patience, I don’t want you to ever think that I would just walk out that door and never come back. I’m not that man and I refuse to be.”

“That’s a bold claim,” Dorian said, wringing his hands together nervously. “You gunna prove it to me?”

Orym nodded and offered out his hands to Dorian. “However long it takes. Even if I have to remind you every single day.”

Dorian hesitated for a moment, before placing his hands into Orym’s and squeezing tightly. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Orym pulled his hands to his lips. “Now, you gunna come cuddle me in this blanket nest I set up?”

Dorian nodded and let Orym guide him around the furniture and into the cozy nest of pillows and blankets at the foot of the couch. Dorian reclined back into the pillows first before Orym hopped over him to press play on the movie before joining him. They were probably both too old to be sitting on the floor like this, but when Dorian curled into his side comfortably, he found he couldn’t complain too much. And the movie was a nice distraction too, little more than background noise as Orym let his mind absently wander, letting himself destress completely from the evening. Slowly though, he became very aware of Dorian’s wandering hand, trailing absently down along his chest to just above his belly button before back up. Then Dorian carefully twisted further towards him, pressing his face into the curve of Orym’s neck and dropping a kiss there. Followed by another and another, peppered all the way up along his neck and making him shiver.

“Dor?” Orym asked softly, curiously. “What are you doing?”

Dorian hummed. “I want you. I need you.”

It probably wasn’t wise; they were both still frayed raw from the emotions of the evening. And the last thing he wanted was Dorian feeling like he owed it to him after everything. But maybe it was also the only way Dorian would accept the comfort he wanted to provide. And he’d be lying if he tried to convince himself he didn’t need a little of the reassurance himself. So he coaxed Dorian’s chin up in order to kiss him properly, pressing every ounce of affection he felt for him into it before letting himself be rolled out onto his back under Dorian’s warm weight.

Dorian was in no hurry, it seemed, taking his time to slowly strip Orym of his clothes, worshipping each new piece of skin he unveiled until Orym lay naked and hard under him. Then, when Dorian sat back on his haunches, reefing off his own shirt carelessly, Orym knew that couldn’t stand. He followed after Dorian, grabbing him by the waist to pull himself up and press a shower of kisses across the expanse of Dorian’s chest and stomach he could reach. Dorian let out an adorably startled little noise and gave Orym the chance to shift upright properly before sitting in his lap, slotting their hips together. Even though the angle was probably uncomfortable for him, Dorian still curled down in order to kiss him breathlessly for a moment.

When he leant back, Orym began the process of pressing his lips to every part of Dorian’s chest he could reach, flicking his tongue over his nipples and just generally admiring every inch he was offered. Dorian slowly rocked against him while he wandered, for once not in any hurry to get either of them off, seeming to just bask under Orym’s attention with little gasps and soft moans. Eventually, Orym worked open the ties of Dorian’s pants, wrapping his lips around a nipple at the same time he wrapped his hand around Dorian’s cock and stroked slowly. Dorian shuddered under the touch, letting his head tip back as Orym gently worked them in tandem, slowly teasing him to full hardness.

“Orym, Orym.” Dorian combed a hand through Orym’s hair, gently guiding him away from his chest.

“What do you need?” Orym murmured, ghosting his breath over the nipple he’d just been teasing, causing Dorian to shiver.

“I wanna be inside you, wanna feel you.”

Orym smiled faintly. “Okay, gotta open me up first, sweetheart.”

Dorian whined and suddenly pushed Orym onto his back again, kissing him roughly. “Say it again?”

“What? Open me up?”

“No.” Dorian blushed. “The other thing.”

“Oh. Sweetheart.”

“Yeah.” Dorian shivered again and nipped at his lip. “Stay right there.”

With his dick still hanging out of his pants, Dorian reached for the coffee table, scrambling for the drawer handle. Orym perched himself up on his elbows to watch as Dorian plucked out the bottle of lube from within.

“You keep lube in the coffee table drawer?” Orym asked with a chuckle. Dorian grinned and winked before placing a hand on Orym’s chest to press him back down.

“I’ve learned to be prepared with you.”

Even without knowledge of what had happened this evening, Orym would have been able to tell that something had changed within Dorian. Where normally he might have hurried this part along, eager to get on with the main show, now he lingered in it, taking his time to work Orym open infuriatingly slowly, one finger at a time. Not that he was complaining about being the sole focus of Dorian’s attention, luxuriating in the sensations, but it was unusual. And then he thought about it for a bit longer, in the moments where his brain could focus on something other than Dorian's fingers curling inside him. Parts of this felt familiar; like the way Dorian had taken time to strip and kiss every inch of him, the way he seemed intently focused on Orym's pleasure alone, the slow way he was working him open. Then it hit him.

He was mimicking the way Orym had done this to him all those months ago, when he’d let him have his way. A sudden surge of distress ran his veins cold - Dorian didn’t know how to be soft without copying something Orym had done to him - followed by a wash of affection that he’d remembered it well enough that Orym could recognise it.

However, Dorian seemed to grow just slightly impatient, soon pulling his fingers free to replace them with his cock instead, curling over Orym to mouth at his neck and rock them together until he’d bottomed out. Then, same as with his fingers, he took it slow, taking an age to draw out before pushing back in. Orym drew Dorian back into another kiss, to match the rolling waves of motion they created with one another before fingers knit together and Dorian pressed him further back into the pillows and blankets of their nest. Time melted away with each languid thrust, each soft sigh as they joined together and apart again and again. There was no urgency, no need to chase an end, just sensation. The trembling of Dorian's hands in his, the shiver down Orym's spine when Dorian nipped at his neck, the ripple of arousal as Dorian bottomed out and held there, meeting his gaze suddenly.

"Bite me."

"What?" Orym asked with a furrowed brow. "But won't somebody see-?"

"Please," It was the kind of begging where he was asking for one thing while wanting another. "Please."

Orym wiggled a hand free to catch the back of Dorian's head and bring him back down into range to kiss him gently. Then he trailed his lips along his jaw, down his neck to the curve of his collarbone. Dorian shivered against him, clutching tight to the hand he still held as Orym gently nibbled, teasing before he bit down properly, rolling the skin between his teeth before sucking hard. Dorian let out a little cry, twitching above him, before pressing in a little closer. He kept it for a moment, enjoying the shuddering breath Dorian took for each second that he lingered. When Orym was satisfied it would leave enough of a mark, he pulled back to admire his work, the purple blossom in stark contrast to Dorian’s skin. He traced his thumb along the line of Dorian’s collarbone and smiled.

“I’m not going anywhere, not so long as this mark lasts.” He pressed his thumb into it and Dorian moaned softly.

“But it’ll fade eventually?” Dorian chewed on his lip anxiously. Orym shook his head.

“Not if I don’t let it.” He pressed a kiss on it once more before laying back completely. “Not if I’m here.”

Dorian’s expression flickered rapidly as he stared down at him. Flashes of confusion and awe and hope and then it broke, tears suddenly welling up in his eyes and dripping down onto Orym. Silently, he coaxed Dorian down to bury his face into his shoulder, wrapping his arms and legs as far around him as he could, pulling him in tightly. This time Dorian was silent in his weeping, just shaking in Orym’s arms as he heaved through whatever emotions had just crashed down around his ears. There was little Orym could do for him right now, other than hold him and soothe him, running a hand through his still shower-damp hair and pressing kisses on the parts of him he could reach.

After a long moment of quiet, Dorian slowly reanimated, squeezing Orym deathly tight.

“Do you really mean it?” Dorian whispered into the skin of his neck. “You won’t just leave?”

“I mean it.” Orym insisted. “Every time I say it. No matter how much I have to repeat it or how often. I’m not leaving you.”

Dorian choked on his tears and somehow clutched Orym even tighter. “Even if we fight?”

“Even if we fight. We’re both imperfect and there’s going to be hiccups along the way but I will always come back.” Orym took hold of his head and coaxed Dorian back so he could look at him. “Dorian, I never thought I would ever have something like this again. And even if the road is paved with potholes from start to finish, I’m not giving up without a damn good fight. I’ll remind you every single day, if I have to, of just how much I l-like you. Okay?”

Dorian nodded and sniffed. “Okay.”

Orym used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that remained. “I think we should get some sleep.”

“You check the locks and I’ll get the shower ready?”

“Deal.” Orym drew him down into a final, searing kiss before finally letting him move up and away.

Orym watched as Dorian tucked himself back into his pants before wandering out of the room absently. He took a moment to readjust his own headspace, gathering up his clothes, checking the locks in the lounge and on the front door before following Dorian into the bathroom, where he could already hear the shower going. When he entered, he found Dorian sitting on the floor of the shower, just letting the water wash over him silently. Orym plucked a hair tie off the counter before joining him, standing behind him and carefully pulling his hair back away from his face, tangling it into a braid as best he could to get it out of the way.

“Any other time, I’d have you against the wall in here,” Dorian joked weakly and Orym snorted softly.

“Another time I would have enjoyed that.” He pressed his thumbs into the back of Dorian’s neck, slowly massaging outwards. “I like it when you show off how strong you are.”

Dorian huffed a little and rubbed his face roughly. “Now you’re just trying to flatter me.”

“Maybe I am, just a little.” He pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I think sometimes you forget you have more good qualities than bad because you get focused on the worst parts of you.”

“They’re the ones I see the most…” Dorian muttered absently and Orym soothed his thumbs along his shoulders again. “The ones that stare me in the face constantly.”

“We all see the worst in ourselves, Dor, even me.” Dorian turned to look up at him, almost disbelieving. “I have many failings, many flaws but I know that's not all I am. It’s not all you are. I don’t care if it takes me the rest of my life to show you that, someday you’ll see what I see.”

Dorian swallowed heavily. “That sounds pretty long-term, Orym.”

Orym touched Dorian’s lips with his thumb absently. “I’m a pretty long-term guy, sweetheart.”

Dorian flushed and looked away. “I’m done; we should head to bed.”

“Alright.”

Dorian turned off the water and offered Orym a towel first before grabbing his own from the cupboard. Once they’d dried off, they wandered across the hall to collapse into bed together, Dorian curling around him so tightly he was just a line of heat all the way down along Orym’s spine and curled up behind his legs, engulfing him completely. It was wonderfully warm and comforting, even as Dorian’s hands wandered aimlessly over every inch of skin he could reach, not lustfully but as if he just needed to touch Orym in some way to soothe himself that he was still really there, tucked up in his arms. After a long, quiet moment where Orym nearly dozed off, Dorian broke the silence.

“Orym?”

“Yeah?”

“Not tonight, but someday soon…I think I wanna hear more about him. About Will.”

Orym couldn’t turn far enough to see Dorian’s face, which was pressed into the crown of his head. “Yeah? You sure?”

Dorian nodded into his hair. “He’s…he’s clearly a big piece of you and I…I wanna know every inch of you better than you know yourself.”

Orym smiled quietly to himself. “Okay. Soon then.”

And if there was a response, Orym passed out too quickly to hear it.

Chapter Text

Oh brother, I see, you burn like me
The singes on our skin like a brand
Oh brother, I confess
There is little of me left that could care about dousing the wildfire
And I left you alone in a house, not a home
And I watched the burning grow as my hair filled with grey

It took a couple of days before Dorian brought Will up again. They were at Orym's after their usual Whelsen lesson, settling in on the couch to have a drink, when Dorian pointed out the photo albums on the bookshelf. Orym pulled them down hesitantly, a little uncertain about what can of worms this would bring up when they'd finally seemed to have worked past it, but was pleasantly surprised to find he had grossly underestimated Dorian in this case. They spread the photo albums open over their combined laps, Dorian actively engaging with each photo he came across, wanting to know who everyone was and how they weaved into the narrative of Orym's life.

Through the photographs, Dorian learned of everyone and anyone who had been instrumental in Orym's early life. And while he cried talking about them, about Will and Derrig in particular, it was also cathartic in a way to tell Dorian stories of his youth, of all the trouble he'd gotten into, and of the man he'd fallen in love with. About Big Moon, Little Moon and the tattoo on his arm. He talked for so long that their drinks turned to room temperature. Dorian was quiet for a bit after that, looking through the photos in his own time, pausing on a few in particular - the photo of a Orym, Will and the triplets all under the cherry blossom tree in Nel and Derrig's backyard, a young Orym perched on Derrig's shoulders laughing happily and finally one of the photos taken at his and Will's wedding, where they were looking at one another as if all the world had fallen away. Dorian lingered on the last the most, as if committing it to memory.

"He sounds like he was an amazing man," Dorian finally murmured, turning to Orym as the halfling wiped away the last of his tears. "That you loved him a lot."

"He was. And I do. I will always love him in some way."

Dorian nodded knowingly, then collected the albums and put them back on the shelf for him.

"You really kind of downgraded, huh?"

Orym wasn’t about to let that stand. “No. I wouldn’t say that. I was a different man back then. I wanted different things and had a different idea for what my life would look like. But I like what my life looks like now, especially with you in it.”

“But I’m nothing like him?” Dorian gestured to the albums.

“And that’s okay. Come here.” Orym motioned him over and when Dorian went to sit, Orym instead coaxed him into his lap, straddling to face him. “I like you just the way you are, Dor. You were exactly what I needed when I needed it.”

“But I haven’t done anything for you? Other than just sleep with you and take lessons?”

“Haven’t you?” Orym squeezed his thighs fondly. “I was in a pretty bad rut when I met you, a cycle that I didn’t really want to get out of because it was comfortable and familiar. And then you happened. I smile a lot more now because of you. I actually go out with my friends rather than just to work and home. I’ve been experimenting with my cooking because I want to surprise you and quite frankly, my dating life was even deader than yours. So yes, while it might not be obvious you’ve done anything for me, I’ve certainly noticed some changes. And if you don’t believe me, you can ask Fearne or any of my friends.”

“Oh.” Dorian smiled a little to himself, twisting his fingers together like he was searching for the right words to say. “So…you’re talking to Fearne again?”

Orym shrugged. “She knows I’m still mad about it and I know she wouldn’t have done it maliciously and that she feels bad about it. Also I can’t avoid her entirely because she lives across the hall. So yeah, we’re still talking and she’s making it up to me. I’ve had no less than three pies arrive on my doorstep this week alone.”

“I hope they were at least decent flavours,” Dorian chuckled.

“Yeah, she knows all my favourites. She also knows I’ll forgive her eventually. I just need time.”

Dorian took his face in his hands. “Between me and Fearne, I don’t know how you do it. How you keep so patient with us.”

“I know you both have the best of intentions. And I care about both of you a lot. In the end, that’s always worth it, no matter what.”

--

Cyrus knew he’d promised to text his brother when he’d landed at the airport. But it was way more tempting a prospect to just catch a cab and surprise him - rather than have him drive all the way to the other side of town to pick him up just to turn around and drive back. Besides, Bronte had already sent him his address just in case he hadn’t been able to, so it wasn’t like he was breaking any rules by not telling him. And this way was more fun. They hadn’t seen each other in almost four years, after all, and he wondered all the ways his brother had changed. He knew a little through the pictures Bronte had sent on occasion and messages they’d exchanged but that didn’t tell the full story. He wanted to get to know his brother again without the pressure of their parents looming over them at every turn.

He got lucky in the lobby of his brother’s building - a couple heading up to the sixth floor - and squeezed into the elevator with them, tapping the button for the eighth floor. From there it was fairly easy to locate Bronte’s door, seeing as there were three apartments on this level from what he could tell, so he knocked loudly, hitched his bag higher onto his shoulder and waited. The sound of a deadbolt threw him off, followed by the door opening and he was surprised to find himself looking at open air. Then he looked down and spotted the halfling standing in the doorway, looking just as confused as he felt. From a glance, the halfling appeared as though he was wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and took a half step back at the sight of Cyrus. Then he blinked and called off to the side.

“Dor, you have a guest!”

“A guest?” Bronte’s voice asked from around the corner before his brother suddenly appeared, wearing just thin pyjama bottoms and a robe. “Cyrus!?”

“Hey,” He said with a wave and Bronte hurriedly grabbed the front of his robes and pulled them tight around himself to cover up his chest. But not so quickly that Cyrus didn’t notice the fresh bruise on his collarbone.

“What are you doing here?” Bronte suddenly demanded, shoving the halfling back out of the way to put himself between the two of them. “Why didn’t you let me know you’d landed?! I would have come and picked you up!”

“Uh, it’s called a surprise?” He deadpanned, catching the halfling slinking back out of sight around the corner. “And who the fuck is that? I thought you only did all that shit online and didn’t have in-person clients?”

“It is all online!” Bronte defended, glancing off to where the halfling had vanished. “He’s not a client or anything. Look, just come inside.”

Bronte ushered him in and slammed the door shut behind him before throwing across the deadbolt latch. By that point, the halfling had returned, still wearing the oversized shirt but had tucked the front into a pair of pants and had his shoes in his hands.

“Okay, so he’s not a client, that still doesn’t explain who he is, Bron,” Cyrus said motioning towards him.

“He’s…he’s uh…” Bronte stumbled over his words for a moment before the halfling cut in.

“I’m his pole instructor, Orym.”

Cyrus zeroed in on the halfling - on Orym. “Right. That sounds like a really bad innuendo, dude."

"Cy! It's for my channel!" Bronte said defensively. "The first one just went up and it's been a hit success. Orym's just been helping me organise the music and moves for the next one."

Cyrus looked between them in their various states of dress; Orym was definitely wearing the matching shirt to Bronte’s pants and that wasn’t even mentioning the hickey peeking out from his brother's collar. "Huh. Right.”

“I, uh, better get going, Dor.” Orym hastily pulled on his shoes. “I’m sure you and your brother have a lot to catch up on. Just, uh, text me about the next session, alright?”

“Right, right, I will.” Bronte followed Orym to the door, unlatching it so he could open it and let him out. “I’ll text you later, promise.”

“And remember; window locks.”

“I know, I know. Bye.”

Bronte shut the door and turned back to Cyrus with a scowl before he marched over and pinched his arm hard. Cyrus yelped and jumped back with a curse.

“What was that for?”

“You can’t just drop in on me like this! What if I’d just finished up working and I’d been covered in cum and lube and-”

“Ew, gross, Bron!” Cyrus curled his nose up in disgust. “It was bad enough watching whatever the fuck that was with your pole instructor. Nice fucking cover, by the way; what a crock of shit. He was half naked and you have a hickey on your neck.”

Bronte’s hand immediately jumped to his neck to cover the mark.

“I’m not lying, Cy; he really is my pole instructor-”

“And why did he keep calling you ‘Dor’? Like does he not know your name?”

Bronte looked away as if he were ashamed. “I uh…I actually go by Dorian now, Cy. I kinda changed it when I…when I left home.”

Cyrus felt himself deflate a little, the fight draining out. “Oh, you went through with that, huh?”

“Yeah. So he only knows me as Dorian. Dor for short.”

“Did you want me too..?”

“You can still call me Bron. You’re one of the only ones I could stand it from.”

Cyrus nodded. “And he knew I was your brother.”

Bronte - Dorian - he corrected himself - nodded. “I told him a little about you and showed him a photo or two.”

Cyrus took a long, hard look at his baby brother. “He’s not just your pole instructor, is he? You don’t have to lie to me, I’m not mum and I’m not going to think any less of you if you say anything else.”

Dorian twisted his hands together nervously. “We…might be sleeping together?”

“Cool. Mystery solved. Show me where I’m sleeping now.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“I don’t care so long as you don’t have sex with him within my earshot while I’m here.” Cyrus shrugged, tossing his bag onto the couch. “But I wanna meet him properly at some point; I gotta get some big brother brownie points in and suss out his intentions.”

“Cyrus,” Dorian whined, causing him to chuckle.

“What? I got a lot of time to make up for and only a week to do it in; gotta make the most of it.”

Dorian chewed his lip. “I did miss you, you know?”

“I missed you too, little brother.”

Once Dorian had gained a few clothes, seeing as Orym had walked out in his shirt, he gave Cyrus a quick tour of the apartment, pointing out the bedroom and the bathroom and warning him that under no certain circumstances was he to enter ‘the office’ as he called it. Cyrus assured him that he had no interest in pursuing Dorian’s dildo collection at any point this week. After that, Cyrus raided the liquor cabinet while Dorian set up the fold-out couch.

“Since when do you drink whiskey?” Cyrus called, flipping the bottle around to check the label. “Whew, this is some good shit.”

“It’s a stocked shelf, Cy, I have bits of everything. And you can’t drink it all or else you’re buying O-me a new bottle.”

Cyrus raised an eyebrow at the slip in his words and put the whiskey back on the shelf without question before selecting the fireball instead to pour himself a shot.

After a long moment, Dorian finally spoke. “So…have you spoken to mum and dad recently?”

“Yeah, over the phone. They have a couple of girls lined up for me to meet when I finish up with school next year.” He downed his shot in one go. “All of them from respectable genasi families who will bring great honour and wealth to the Wyvernwind name.”

“Do they talk about me? At all?”

Cyrus sighed. “You really wanna know?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, mother is currently pretending that you don’t exist and father still thinks you’re a disappointment, so no real changes. Any time anyone brings you up, they both kind of just go silent.”

“You don’t think they’ll try and drag me home, do you?” Dorian worried his lip between his teeth.

“Na. You’re too far away for them to be bothered.” Cyrus poured himself another shot and downed it before putting the fireball away. “As far as they’re concerned, you’re all but disowned in everything but actually cutting you off. Your inheritance is still there, as far as I know.”

“You know I don’t care about that,” Dorian waved him off. “But that’s a relief at least. I was worried they might have followed you out here or, you know, taken my address off your phone.”

“Na, they’re more concerned right now with me finishing school and marrying me off to whoever they deem fit.”

“You know you could leave too?” Dorian placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “Just…never go back?”

“And crash here on your couch forever?”

Dorian sneered a little. “I more meant just stay in Marquet if it’s too far for them to be bothered.”

“I mean, I could, but I also want to finish schooling. I worked hard for this Bron. I think I want to see it through.”

“That’s…pretty respectable of you Cy.” Dorian smiled.

“Why thank you, I’ve been working on it.”

Dorian chuckled and shook his head. “Alright, I think that's enough excitement for the evening. There’s food in the fridge and you clearly already know where the drinks are. Just stay out of my room and the office and we’ll have no issues this week.”

“You’re going to go text your boy toy, aren’t you?”

Dorian flushed. “You’re the one who interrupted our evening!”

Cyrus laughed brightly, watching his brother slowly turn an even darker shade of violet. He had a good idea of how he was going to entertain himself this week.

--

Dorian started awake right at three am to the sounds of something rummaging around in his kitchen. For a heartbeat, he thought it was Orym; then remembered he’d left hours ago. Then he recalled that Cyrus was here and it was probably him looking for food. Just as he turned back over, intending to go back to sleep, he remembered his promise to check the locks on the windows and he hadn’t. Silently cursing to himself that apparently this was going to be a thing he did now, he hauled himself out of bed and first checked the locks on his bedroom windows before traipsing out into the living room. As predicted, Cyrus was helping himself to one of Orym’s home-cooked frozen meals and waved a fork at him as he stabbed at the screen on the microwave to make it work. Dorian acknowledged him with half a wave before heading over to the windows sleepily to check the locks before heading to double-check the deadbolt on the door.

“Are you okay?” Cyrus asked as he passed by the kitchen, intending to head back to bed now that his inner Orym was satisfied with the safety of the house.

“Yeah, why?” Dorian yawned, scratching at his jaw.

“You live on the eighth floor; why do you check the windows?”

“Never hurts to be safe, even this high up.”

Cyrus whistled. “Damn, you must have some determined stalkers.”

Dorian laughed. “Na, just heard plenty of horror stories and it makes Orym happy.”

"Uh-huh." Cyrus sounded disbelieving. “You know, if you’re so worried, why not just ask your boyfriend to move in?”

Dorian was suddenly very awake. “Oh, no, we’re not-”

“Bron, don’t try and shit me.” Cyrus raised his hand and began counting off his fingers. “You have expensive whiskey that definitely isn’t yours; you let him leave here in what was very obviously your shirt; you check the locks knowing it makes him happy when he’s not even here and by the look of it, he’s here often enough to feel comfortable. Not to mention these frozen meals? I know you can’t fucking cook, so someone made them for you. Maybe you don’t call each other boyfriends but that’s what he is doing.”

Dorian swallowed. “Look we…we’re dating but we haven’t put any further labels on it because it’s complicated, Cy.”

“Doesn’t look so complicated to me.” The microwave dinged and he removed his food, cursing at the hot tupperware container. “You want my advice?”

“No.”

“Too bad.” Cyrus shook out his hand. “You should try calling him a cute nickname and see how he responds. If it’s positive, or he calls you one in return, I hate to break it to you, Bron, but that's a whole ass boyfriend you got there waiting for a label.”

Dorian froze and absently covered his mouth. Was that what Orym had been doing when he’d started calling him ‘Sweetheart’? All this time had Orym been trying to subtly tell him that he wanted to be his boyfriend?

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, dude.” Cyrus’s voice pulled him back from his thoughts.

Dorian grimaced. “You woke me up at three in the morning! Sorry for being a bit tired.”

Before Cyrus could reply, he stalked off back to his room, now armed with some more insight than he had before.

--

Orym supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised when he got a message from an unknown number, declaring themselves to be Cyrus and asking to meet him at a local diner one-on-one. They hadn’t really expected him to show up that evening and had been unprepared with what they were going to tell him and if Orym was honest with himself, he’d panicked big time. Maybe it would have just been better to have said boyfriend, even if it wasn’t the entire truth. But then Dorian might have denied it and then they were back in that weird mid-territory again, where they’d been floating aimlessly for a while now. And while he personally kind of hated it, he wasn’t about to rock the boat until he was certain it wasn’t going to capsize on them.

He spotted Cyrus immediately upon entering the diner and hopped up onto the opposite side of the booth, settling in before resting his arms on the table and taking in the older Storm. From the look in his eyes, Orym could guess what this conversation was going to be about and already he was dreading it. He’d never needed to have his intentions questioned by the triplets; they’d grown up knowing him.

“So, uh, hi.” Orym started when Cyrus didn’t speak. “We only got a brief introduction the other night; I’m Orym Ashari.”

He held out his hand to him and after a moment, Cyrus took it and shook.

“Cyrus Wyvernwind.”

That name struck him as a little odd, but, he supposed, not all siblings shared a last name, after all. “Pleasure. I’m uh…sorry for what you walked into the other night.”

Cyrus shrugged a little. “My brother can sleep with whoever the fuck he wants. But now I understand why he really wanted me to text ahead. Sorry, I know I interrupted your evening.”

“It’s alright; plenty more to be enjoyed later. I’d rather he spend this week catching up with you than worrying about me. He was really excited when you said you were coming after all.”

Cyrus gave him a hard look up and down for a moment before picking up the menu. “Hungry? What would you recommend here?”

“Uh, sure? I mean they make good onion rings here and the burgers are pretty decent too.” Orym scanned down the menu, trying to remember the last time he’d eaten here. “I think I’ll just have the tossed chicken salad. I have a class to teach later and this greasy stuff makes me bloated as hell.”

“Oh so…you really are an instructor?” Cyrus asked, crossing his arms on the table as Orym nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve been teaching pole for ten or so years and work out of a studio on the other side of town. Dorian and I originally met when he signed up for my class.”

“And that was when you started seeing him.”

“Well, no, not really. It was a couple of months before I caved. Your brother was very persistent.” Orym chuckled, thinking back to those first few months when Dorian had taken every chance to turn him bright red in class. “It kind of spiralled from there into the relationship we have now.”

Cyrus hummed and held out his hand for the menu. “You want the salad and anything else? My treat.”

“Oh! Uh…no, no thank you.”

Cyrus swiped the menu off him and went up to the counter to order and even from here he could hear Cyrus flirting obnoxiously with the waitress at the till. He supposed the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, even if they had wildly different tastes. Cyrus eventually wandered back over, having apparently lucked out and sat back down. Orym tapped his fingers together nervously.

“So, is Dorian working right now?”

“Yeah,” Cyrus sniffed. “Kicked me out and told me to entertain myself for a few hours. So I stole your number off his phone 'cause I wanted to talk to you. Four years and he still has his passcode as his birthday. I swear he’s begging to have that thing broken into.”

There it was. “You wanted to talk to me about what exactly?”

Cyrus looked at him for a long moment. “I’m surprised he didn’t warn you. I told him I wanted to vet you out like a good brother should.”

“No, he didn’t warn me,” Orym chuckled softly. “But I did wonder if that was what this was about when you texted me. It’s what I would do if I’d walked in on that scene the other night.”

Cyrus nodded. “Glad you understand. So let's just be honest with each other. I know some of Bron’s ex’s in the past have been on the shittier side and he didn’t tell me until after the fact, so for once I’m getting a chance to vet the new boyfriend before-”

“I’m not his boyfriend,” Orym corrected automatically. “And why do you call him Bron? I noticed it the other day as well.”

“Okay, firstly, you have a drawer in his bedside table that I saw him put what was definitely your shirt into; secondly that really nice whiskey is definitely not his and thirdly dude, you don’t make home-cooked meals like those ones in the freezer for just ‘someone you’re dating’.” Cyrus sat back in his chair. “As for the Bron thing, that’s his story to tell.”

Orym huffed a little. “Well, okay, so, maybe yes, I’m a little bit in love with him and I may have started doing boyfriend things without realising and-”

He cut himself off sharply as his brain caught up with his mouth and he quickly slapped a hand over it, but the damage was done. Orym looked up at Cyrus, panicked, as the genasi simply stared back at him, wide-eyed, as if he hadn’t expected that as much as Orym hadn’t. The silence between them stretched on for a long moment before, suddenly, the waitress arrived and cheerfully delivered their meals. Cyrus reanimated first to thank her with a charming smile as Orym simply lowered his head onto the table next to his salad, embarrassed and flustered. After another pause, Cyrus spoke first.

"I didn't realise you two were so serious-"

"He doesn't know!" Orym piped up, raising his head once more. "And you can't tell him, please. We just got over the Will incident and if he hears that, he will run. I don't want to lose him by being too fast for what he's prepared for."

Cyrus chewed thoughtfully on his chip. "The Will incident?"

"I'm a widower. When Dorian found out about him, when I told him, he picked this massive argument about it. It was bad."

"Yeah, that sounds like Bron," Cyrus sighed down at his burger. "He used to pick fights with me just to get our parents' attention. Then sometimes he would pick them just to get my attention. I think it kinda turned into the only way he knows how to get some things across. Like, after our great aunt passed, he picked this massive fight with me over having eaten the last of the cookies she’d made and it was just the dumbest argument. But afterwards I thought about how he actually phrased things and realised it wasn’t the fact that I’d eaten them that he was mad about, it was the fact that he’d wanted to share them and his grief with me over her death and just didn’t know how to other than picking a fight, which had always worked for him.”

Orym nodded. “This one was anxiety related, I believe. From what I can tell, I think he was worried that our relationship didn’t actually mean anything to me beyond the physical and he was terrified of the thought of me leaving him.”

“When he grows attached, he grows attached. But…that also explains all those messages I saw on his phone.”

“You didn’t hear the voice messages. He spiralled really badly. But I wouldn’t let him go through it alone.”

“Good. He’s not great at being alone, no matter how much he assures me it’s fine.” Cyrus took a bite of his burger and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “Now back to the original topic. So you’re in love with my brother, huh?”

Orym felt himself flush and tried to hide behind his fork of chicken. “Please don’t tell him. I wanna tell him myself at a more appropriate time. When I don’t think he’s going to run for the hills.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Cyrus snorted. “However, I will keep your secret if you promise me something.”

“Alright, I’ll bite.”

“When I’m not here, just promise me you’ll make him happy? And trust me, I will know if you aren’t and I will make your life hell for it even when I’m back home.”

Orym chuckled and smiled. “I promise I will do everything in my power to make him happy.”

Cyrus grinned. “Good. You seem like a really decent guy, Orym. Not everyone is willing to put up with him. I’m glad my brother's taste has improved significantly.”

“I care for him very much and so a promise like that is a simple thing to make. I want him to be happy and if I can do it, I will.” Orym looked down again at his half-eaten salad. “Can I ask you something, though?”

“Sure, shoot.”

“I’m just wondering what changed that you two started getting along?”

Cyrus considered for a moment. “I think, in the end, Bron just got tired of picking fights. I mean, he still picked them, but by that point, I’d gotten pretty good at figuring out how to read between what he was saying and what he wanted. That was in the year or so before I left for law school. It was a really good time for the both of us to have each other to talk to and depend on actually, because the pressure on both of us from our parents was only really getting heavier each year.”

“Yeah, Dor won’t talk about his parents at all.”

Cyrus sighed heavily. “I’ll be honest, Orym, our parents aren’t great people. They have high expectations and no matter what Bron did in particular, he could never meet them. I know they often gave me passes for things they cracked down on him for and for a lot of his life, I think Bron felt like second fiddle. A spare. Second son. At least until we started getting along and he got to see I was suffering just as badly as he was. It was nice when we stopped pitting ourselves against each other and actually started being brothers. And then I got shipped off to law school and suddenly he was there alone with them. I think he lasted four months before he fled and moved here to Maquet.”

“You helped him with that, though, didn’t you? He said you helped him with the paperwork.”

“Yup, helped him with getting everything looking official and tapping into our parent’s funds to get the apartment he’s living in now for long enough for him to get settled and find work. From there, he was on his own. He’s done well for himself, all things considered. Never once reached out asking for more help moneywise; just occasionally would let me know how he was travelling and sometimes after a bad breakup, he’d call me to get it out. Took him a long time to actually admit to me that he’d started working porn but, like, that’s fair. That’s not something easy to bring up in conversation with your slightly estranged brother.”

“And then add in his own anxiety about everything.” Orym nodded knowingly, then grinned a little. “Thanks for the shovel talk, Cyrus. I feel like I know you and Dorian a lot better now.”

Cyrus snorted. “I’m not sure that’s the point of a shovel talk. But I am glad we got to have this chat. I’m also glad Dorian chose you. And hey, keep your promise and nothing bad will happen.”

“I intend to. Thanks for shouting lunch.”

“Consider it an investment into my brother's ongoing happiness. Because, boy, is he not going to be happy when he finds out I hacked his phone, stole your number and read his messages.”

Orym just laughed and buried his face in his hands.

Chapter Text

You say that I won't lose you
But you can't predict the future
'Cause certain things are out of our control
Yeah, if you ever move on without me
I need to make sure you know that
You are the only one I'll ever love
Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone

Dorian was naturally infuriated upon Cyrus’ return from his outing and subsequently admitting he’d had lunch with Orym of all people. Then he’d also mentioned that they’d had a lengthy chat about many different topics that he refused to specify to him. That could only mean that they’d talked about Dorian behind his back and the idea of that made him even more pissed off at his brother. And a little bit at Orym too. However, Cyrus was too knowledgeable about his ego and was able to soothe him with the promise that Orym had only said good things about him and missed him. It was probably a lie, but it made him feel better about it anyway. He could always call Orym later and pry the truth out of him with promises of gold and lace.

Cyrus then segued into what he wanted to do that evening and even though his anxiety spiked at the idea of going to a pub of all places; Cyrus also knew his way around that too, luring him with promises of it being a hole-in-the-wall kind of place and having a karaoke bar. The idea was enticing as much as it was anxiety-inducing. In the end, he agreed only to shut his brother up from whining that Dorian had ignored him all day and he’d come all this way just to spend time with him. As they clambered into the back of the cab Cyrus had ordered, Dorian reminded him that he would have had to work anyway today no matter what job he was doing and Cyrus just laughed.

The cab dropped them off at the corner and they walked the short distance to the pub in question, Sit & Spin. It was lively inside, but not so busy that he felt the usual fear of being recognised sinking in immediately. Dorian grabbed them a table while Cyrus flirted with the barmaid and bought them some drinks. Once he had a drink in hand, Dorian took another glance around the bar.

“How did you even know about this place?” He asked curiously, turning on his grinning brother.

“Honestly? Orym. He told me he didn’t think he could convince you to come but he knew this place was quiet and probably wouldn’t attract your usual clientele. I don’t think he realised how easy of a sell the karaoke would have been.”

Dorian flushed and looked down at his drink. “He doesn’t know about the singing…”

“He doesn’t- Bron.” He winced at the tone Cyrus used to chastise him. “That’s it; I’m calling your boy toy to come and join us so he can-”

“No! It’s too embarrassing!” Dorian latched onto Cyrus’ arm as he reached for his phone. “What if he hates what I sound like?”

Cyrus shot him a funny look. “I don’t think there’s a single thing that man could hate about you.”

He put on his best pleading face. “Please don’t tell him Cy, please.”

“Okay, alright!” Cyrus laughed and pulled his arm free. “But you should enjoy the chance while we’re here. When was the last time you actually went out and did something fun? And Orym doesn’t count.”

Dorian pouted. “It’s been a while. But I’m very noticeable, so I’m always afraid someone will recognise me and follow me home and then what?”

“Bron, most of the people here are far too old to be watching the kind of shit you do; I think you’ll be fine. Go pick a song with the DJ and enjoy yourself.”

He sighed. He supposed Cyrus was right in some respects. This place did look as though it catered more towards the older folk, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was in the clear. Still, he did kind of really want to take the chance and have some fun. So, heeding his brother's advice, he shuffled over to the DJ and had a flick through the selection of songs available, while up on stage, two tabaxi drunkenly sang a duet. It wasn’t the greatest choice of music he’d ever seen, but he still managed to find at least one or two songs he liked the thought of before finally deciding on just one. Again, he wasn’t looking to draw too much attention to himself; just to have some fun. Once the tabaxi’s song had finished, they traded off the microphone to him and he stepped up onto the stage hesitantly. He glanced quickly back to Cyrus, who gave him a smile and thumbs up before he turned back to the screen where the lyrics appeared.

--

The second his brother's back was turned, Cyrus scrambled for his phone. Dorian had asked him not to tell but had never said he couldn’t show. So while Dorian was distracted, letting himself sink into that performance mode as the beat kicked up, Cyrus flicked open his camera, struggled momentarily to get it across to video and hit the record button just as he began to sing. Admittedly, Cyrus could tell he was a little rusty and not warmed up but still, he sounded just like he remembered those few times he’d actually let Cyrus listen to him. Orym was going to lose his goddamn mind when he sent this to him. He made sure to film the whole performance, even the end, where Dorian awkwardly bowed a little to the crowd as they applauded. He just managed to slip his phone away before Dorian rejoined him all jittery with nerves.

“Had fun?”

“Yes,” Dorian admitted grumpily. “I hate you sometimes; you know that, right?”

Cyrus laughed. “I know. But what's a big brother for if not to meddle and make sure you have a break every once in a while?”

--

Cyrus managed to drag him out three more times that week, back down to the Sit and Spin twice and once to a nice fancy restaurant less than two blocks from his apartment, where he invited along Orym, Opal and Dariax as well. It was certainly a little strange to have his brother, his friends and his- well, Orym all together at once and to further have all of them bouncing off each other like they were best pals. Especially Cyrus and Orym, who kept laughing at one another like they were sharing secrets he wasn’t privy to. But maybe it wasn’t a bad thing that they got along well, even if it meant he was enduring double the amount of teasing he normally would. The food was pretty good though. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually had a restaurant meal like this. Orym’s cooking was pretty close, though.

He also knew he was looking at Orym far too much over dinner. It had been great spending time with his brother this week but he also just missed spending time with Orym. They called and texted whenever he wanted, whenever he reached out, but having him beside him was better. Where he could see him, feel him and know he was there like he promised. Still, maybe he could have been a little less obvious about what he wanted, as while they waited for the cab for Opal and Dariax to arrive, Cyrus pulled him aside.

“I think I’m going to take off.”

“What?”

“Your friends Opal and Dariax are planning to go clubbing and I think I’ll go with them and see where the night leads me.”

“Oh,” Dorian chuckled. “Just don’t try going drink for drink with Dariax, it won’t end well for you. That dwarf has a bottomless pit for a stomach, I swear.”

Cyrus laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “We also noticed you’ve been staring at Orym like you wanted him on your plate instead of that risotto, so consider this a freebie. Go have your fun with him and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Dorian screwed up his nose. “You don’t have to do that-”

“Too late. Remember what I told you; cute nickname for him.” Cyrus wheeled around. “Oi, Orym, Dorian wants you to walk him home.”

“I never-!”

“Sure. I have no interest in going clubbing at my age anyway,” Orym laughed, waving off Opal’s hand as she tried to ruffle his hair and he ducked out of range.

“Dude, we’re almost the same age, you can’t say shit like that,” Cyrus complained with a huff. “One of these days we’ll take you out with us and you’ll see.”

“Sure, Cyrus, next time you're in the country I’ll let you take me clubbing,” Orym joked as he stepped up beside Dorian. “How long did it take you to get here this time, exactly?”

“Ooft, you wound me.” Cyrus looked between them and smiled. “I’ll see you two in the morning. Try to be dressed this time?”

“Cyrus!” Dorian exclaimed even as his brother just laughed and backed up to join Opal and Dariax as their taxi arrived. “Try and remember to text me this time, you dick!”

Cyrus flipped off Dorian and then they were gone, leaving the two of them standing on the sidewalk together. Dorian sighed softly, still deciding how he felt about his brother’s meddling, when Orym’s warm hand slipped into his own and squeezed fondly.

“Nightcap at yours?” He asked sweetly and Dorian thought his heart might melt at the soft expression on Orym’s face.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Hand in hand, they wandered the two blocks back to the apartment building and for once, Dorian didn’t feel the need to constantly double-check his surroundings, knowing Orym’s head was already on a swivel, keeping an eye out for anyone who looked at them twice. He had half a mind to jump Orym in the elevator - he hadn’t gone this long without having Orym since they’d first started sleeping together - but one of his elderly neighbours joined them from the lobby and he had to wait. But as soon as the door to the apartment closed shut behind them, he had Orym in his arms and was pressing him back against it, kissing him deeply with roaming hands.

“Missed you,” He murmured against his lips before pulling the bottom lip between his teeth and Orym chuckled.

“You saw me on Whelsen for our lesson. And we even went back to my place for a while?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t stay over because of Cyrus,” Dorian whined, peppering kisses down his neck. “All this week, I’ve been thinking about you and how much I wanted you to come over and hang out.”

Orym hummed and coaxed his head back up to kiss him properly again. “I missed you too, sweetheart.”

Dorian shuddered and tried very hard not to think about Cyrus’ advice again, instead forcing his focus to stay on the squirming halfling beneath him as he slowly rolled his body against Orym’s, feeling the unmistakable erection forming in his pants. He’d had so many ideas in the few days it had been since he’d had the chance to be alone with Orym and wanted to act on all of them. He had all night to work Orym up slowly and edge him over and over again until they were both out of their minds with lust. Or he could finally take him into the shower and show him just how much better it felt with the water running down along their bodies, clean and yet oh so dirty at the same time. Or maybe-

“Humour me?” Dorian asked, nibbling on Oyrm’s lip before putting him back on his feet.

Orym cocked his head curiously and leaned back against the door, his breathing a little heavier than normal and the front of his pants straining. Dorian smirked, pleased that just a little bit of kissing and rubbing had already caused him to be so worked up. He had to make this perfect then. Dorian ducked over to the coffee table to retrieve the lube before motioning for Orym to follow him as he stepped over by the windows. Orym blinked and seemed to immediately catch on to what Dorian wanted to do.

“Against the windows?” Orym didn’t sound like he was entirely against it, but maybe a little on the hesitant side.

“I mean, you can’t argue that we aren’t exhibitionists, Orym.” Dorian began to unbutton his shirt, one button at a time. “I make porn for a living and you’ve let me fuck you on the floor of your public studio at least twice now.”

Orym’s eyes latched onto the piece of chest he’d revealed. “I mean…you have me there.”

“If you’re not comfortable with it, I have plenty of other places I’d be more than happy to fuck you against. Plenty of walls and furniture and benches.”

He finished the row of buttons in his shirt, letting it fall open completely as he leaned back against the window. Orym looked him up and down, following the line of skin with his eyes and Dorian felt a ripple of pleasure run through him. Then he sighed fondly.

“Apparently, there is very little I can deny you, Dorian.”

Dorian grinned and dropped the lube by the window sill just in time to catch himself an armful of warm halfling as Orym jumped back up to kiss him firmly. Dorian then turned, putting Orym between himself and the window, letting his hands wander up and under his shirt to touch every inch of skin he could reach. However, they soon discovered it was easier for him to just put Orym back down on his feet so they could both strip out of their clothes completely rather than awkwardly tangle with them. Once naked, Dorian then pressed Orym back against the window and hooked one of his legs up over his arm, spreading him wide so he could tease his lubed fingers against his hole, opening him up carefully. He had intended to take his time with it, but he was perhaps a little too eager to watch Orym fall apart on his cock with the beautiful cityscape behind him and worked as quickly as he could.

Orym didn’t seem to mind though, perhaps just as desperate and was wonderfully noisy, gasping and mouthing at his neck and chest before sinking his teeth into the almost faded bruise that, by now, Dorian wore like a brand on his collarbone. He shivered under the attention and the knowledge that, true to his word, Orym had never let the bruise fade, though he did move it around between several spots to ensure he did no permanent damage to the blood vessels. The first time he’d explained it, Dorian had been struck by the thoughtfulness of the gesture and it had only made him even more smitten with the halfling, though he hadn’t been able to voice it properly at the time.

When he finally felt Orym was prepared enough, the halfling trying his best to fuck himself down harder on Dorian’s fingers, whining that he wanted more, Dorian pulled out and after a few steady strokes to ready himself, he pressed the head against Orym’s hole and let him sink down onto it a little. Orym sighed, almost in relief, bracing his shoulders against the window as Dorian carefully held his hips before beginning to rock and fuck him open slowly. Once he’d bottomed out, they readjusted slightly, Orym wrapping his legs around Dorian as far as they would go and Dorian leant over to mouth at his shoulder and tucked an arm up behind his back, the other still gripping his hip. Once they were settled, Orym braced himself again and Dorian began to fuck him in earnest, snapping his hips to meet his, bouncing them both back against the window.

Every breath that left Orym sounded like it was being punched out of him as his hands scrambled for purchase on Dorian’s shoulders, clearly trying not to dig in and leave any other visible marks. Something about that idea just made him hurry his pace, a part of him wanting Orym to lose whatever thin control he still had on his own body, wanting him to mark and maim and claim him in that way he’d been dying to ask for. But it wasn’t wise, he already had the bruise on his chest he needed to cover. Maybe someday he could ask Orym to litter him with all sorts of marks and not feel ashamed for having to hide them.

“Dorian, Dorian, oh, sweetheart.” Orym already sounded wrecked from just being bounced relentlessly on Dorian’s cock and it sent a ripple of arousal through him to know he had such an effect on him.

“You want me to touch you?” Dorian murmured against his neck, sliding his hand from gripping Orym’s hip to up and over his cock teasingly. “You wanna come like this?”

“Yes. Yes please.”

Obediently he wrapped his hand around Orym’s ignored and weeping cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts as best he could, Orym twitching his hips in his best attempt to help and fuck himself both into Dorian’s hand and onto his cock, chasing the end he must have been on the precipice of. Dorian sucked a bruise into his neck, thriving off the moan it earned him before shifting his lips up to next to his ear.

“You gunna be good for me, Orym?” He whispered filthily, nibbling on his earlobe. “Gunna come for me, darling?”

The noise Orym let out as he came was obscene and somehow he still arched back, pressing into Dorian’s hand as his spend covered them both. Dorian continued the motion of his hands and hips, fucking him through it, chasing after his own pleasure alone now. Orym simply trembled under his hands, nipping at his neck and tugging his head down by the hand he tangled into his hair and spoke directly into his ear.

“Come on, sweetheart.”

There was something about the wrecked quality of Orym’s voice and the gravelly low groan of the nickname that sent Dorian over the edge directly, coming with a cry and pressing Orym bodily back against the window as he trembled through his orgasm. Then his legs gave out from under him and he hit the ground on his knees, remembering just in time to catch the back of Orym’s head to stop him from bashing it against the glass. They folded in against one another, clutching to whatever part of the other they could reach and touch, panting and shivering through the aftershocks.

“Gods, I don’t know why, but I l-like it when you call me sweetheart like that.”

For a moment there, his mouth wanted to form another word, a deeper more meaningful word. A far scarier word than he’d thought he was ready for. But looking down at Orym’s expression, somewhere between blissed and achingly fond, it felt right. Heavy, weighty, like it should feel but also just so right. Instead, he just kissed him, licking into his mouth as if that would put the words into it so Orym would just know and understand how far Dorian had fallen for him and how much further he was willing to fall. Slowly they shifted into sweeter kisses, just warm mouths against one another before Dorian drifted to trail down along his neck and across his shoulders. Out of breath still, Orym finally broke the silence.

“So…darling, huh?”

Dorian paused in his worship of the freckles on Orym’s untattooed shoulder.

“Do you not like it?” Panic began to sink in that he’d grossly misunderstood the situation. He never should have listened to Cyrus he clearly didn’t know-

“No, it’s not that I just…” Orym paused as if trying to find the right words. “I just wasn’t expecting it was all. Not tonight at least.”

“Oh.” Dorian let himself relax back down against Orym. “I didn’t exactly plan on it…I just…thought you might like it.”

Orym combed a hand through Dorian’s hair. “I did. I do. I don’t mind if you call me darling, just kinda like how I call you sweetheart.”

Dorian chewed on his lip “Then…can I ask you about some other ones?”

“What did you have in mind?”

Dorian snuggled in a little closer, keeping their hips pressed together but encouraged Orym to curl his arms up around his shoulder so Dorian could hide his face in the curve of his neck.

“What do you think about baby or babe?” He asked and Orym hummed thoughtfully.

“I could get behind baby.”

“Okay…what about honey? Or maybe my peach, 'cause you got that ass.” Dorian grabbed the behind in question and squeezed firmly as Orym laughed.

“Sure, I could accept those.”

Dorian hesitated, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “What about…boyfriend?”

Above him, Orym sucked in a sharp breath and his arms absently tightened around Dorian, as if wanting to hold him tighter.

“I uhm…really?”

“...yeah.” Dorian felt himself start to shake as the nerves kicked back in. “Yeah, I really wanna call you my boyfriend.”

“Okay, yeah that’s more than okay.” Orym suddenly soothed his hands across Dorian’s shoulders. “I really wanna call you my boyfriend too.”

“Oh, good.” He curled himself tighter around Orym until they were pressed together almost completely. “I was really worried I was about to step out off a cliff there…”

Orym clutched him tightly. “Dorian, there was never any cliff. You can always ask anything of me without fear. I adore you, sunshine.”

Dorian finally pulled back just enough to catch Orym’s gaze. “...sunshine?”

“Yeah.” Orym’s voice broke a little as he trembled and cupped Dorian’s face. “The moons only shine because they reflect the sun’s light. I shine because of you.”

“You…romantic fucker.”

Orym laughed wetly and met him eagerly in the kiss he swooped down for. Dorian nipped at Orym’s bottom lip, then pulled back to bump their noses together.

“We still have plenty of evening to enjoy. So I’m going to drag you into that shower with me and wrap your legs around my head until you come on my tongue. Then I think I’ll take you to bed and see if tonight I can’t wring that third orgasm out of you by pinning you to my sheets.”

Orym shivered even as Dorian felt his cock stir again. “You’re going to be the death of me, Dorian Storm.”

--

In the end, Dorian still only managed to get two out of three orgasms from Orym, who, as soon as his head hit the pillow, passed out cold. Dorian wasn’t so cruel as to wake him for the sake of his pride and instead just cuddled in behind him, spooning him completely and bringing the blanket up over both of them. It was the best he’d slept all week and even better, when he woke the next morning, Orym was still there, laid out on his back and snoring softly. Dorian absently brushed a little of his hair back off his forehead and sighed to himself.

“I think…I might be falling in love with you…and I don’t know what to do with that information.,” Dorian whispered to himself, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I didn’t even think I was capable of it anymore. Yet…here we are.”

His musing thoughts were broken as someone suddenly pounded their fist on the front door, scaring the shit out of him and startling Orym awake. Instantly, Dorian had his hand on Orym’s chest, a solid and grounding reminder that he was there and it was safe. Orym turned to him, wide-eyed, heartbeat under his hand running wild.

“It’s probably just Cyrus,” Dorian said leaning over and giving him a peck on the cheek. “I’ll go let him in and you should get some more rest…darling.”

Orym suddenly blushed. “Oh…okay. Alright.”

Dorian smiled and stole another kiss before shuffling off the bed to find his robe and a pair of socks before trudging his way out into the living room, just as Cyrus pounded on the door yet again and called out,

“Broooooooooon, stop fucking your not boyfriend and come let me innnnnnnn!”

Dorian whipped open the door quickly, glaring at his brother, who swayed on the spot a little and grinned at him.

“Morning!” He said cheerfully, sliding past Dorian who continued to glare at him. “Is Orym still here?”

“Yes, he is, and could you not bang on the door and shout shit like that this early in the morning? The neighbours are going to complain.” Dorian slammed the door shut. “Where the hell did you end up last night?”

“At your friend Opal’s place,” Cyrus waddled over to the couch and then pulled a face. “Dude, did you guys fuck on the couch last night? I was going to sit there!”

“No, the couch is safe, you big dumb baby.” Dorian followed after him to scoop up their clothes out of the way so Cyrus could fall onto the couch. “What kind of time did you end up staying ou- is that a fucking hickey on your neck Cyrus??!!”

Cyrus quickly covered the mark with his hand but Dorian had already seen it.

“Tell me you didn’t?!”

“Didn’t what?!” Cyrus looked anywhere but at him and his eyes suddenly settled on the lube they’d left next to the window, his face curling up in horror. “Did you fuck Orym against the goddamn windows?!”

“Did you fucking sleep with OPAL!?” Dorian screamed back, grabbing the nearest pillow and proceeded to beat his brother with it. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go off with them; neither of you have any goddamn self-control!”

Cyrus held up his arms to defend his head as Dorian swung again with the pillow. “Hey! What makes you think I slept with Opal??”

“Because Dariax isn’t your type, you hooligan!”

“He could be!”

Dorian paused, his pillow raised, ready to strike. “Did you fucking sleep with both of my best friends last night, Cyrus?!?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Ugh!” Dorian beat him around the head a few more times. “I welcome you into my home-”

“Hey, I helped you buy it-!”

“And then you go and eat all my frozen meals and mooch off my internet and sleep with my best friends the night before you fucking leave-!”

“-I know you’re going to miss me still!”

“You are the worst!”

Orym coughed loudly from the entrance to the kitchen and both brothers suddenly locked onto him. He’d scrounged up enough clothes to be decidedly not naked, including Dorian’s maroon sweater, and was looking between them curiously.

“I...uh…need my pants,” He said awkwardly and Dorian sprung into action, digging them out of the pile to bring them over to him.

“Sorry, we woke you again, didn’t we?” Dorian apologised, twisting his hands together nervously.

“Na, it’s fine. Fearne just rang me to let me know Laudna’s in the emergency room; she cut her hand open on a wood chisel and Imogen needs someone to sit with her else she’ll pace the floor down.” Orym zipped up his pants before coaxing Dorian down so he could kiss him softly and murmur, “Don’t be too hard on your brother; I know you’re going to miss him.”

Dorian blew a small raspberry. “I know. But he does deserve it a bit.”

Orym chuckled and stole another kiss. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Alright, have fun at the emergency room.”

Orym stepped over to pull his shoes on. “See ya, Cyrus!”

“Catch ya, Orym!” Cyrus waved from the couch before Orym was out the door, pulling it closed behind him. Dorian then immediately rounded on his brother again.

“I can’t fucking believe you slept with both my friends on the same night.”

“Look, Bron, I don’t know what to tell you,” Cyrus turned on the couch to face him. “It was just three consenting adults having a good time.”

Dorian narrowed his eyes. “You slept with both of them at the same time?!”

“Ah, fuck.”

Chapter Text

Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game
Too late for second-guessing, too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes and leap

It was odd to have his space back to himself once Cyrus had left. Dorian would never admit it to his face, but he was a little emotional over the fact that Cyrus was gone again and they wouldn't see each other for however long. But at least he'd seen him off at the airport and gotten a chance to say a proper goodbye this time. And if they'd both held on a little longer than necessary in their goodbye hug, well, Dorian wasn’t going to mention it if Cyrus didn't. And then he was gone and Dorian lost sight of him in the crowd of travellers. Though by the time he got back out to his car, Cyrus had left him one last parting text message.

Cyrus💩

Today 3:45pm
gunna miss you baby brother
don't be afraid to let yourself love him

From there, it was back to the grind of daily life; answering emails, making videos and streaming once a week as usual. Currently, the only thing breaking up the monotony of work was Orym and their schedule of sleepovers, which were slowly gaining extra days with each passing week. It wasn’t every night, but it was more nights a week than he was willing to admit to his friends. And even on the nights when they weren’t together, they would still call or text, mainly so Dorian could destress from whatever late afternoon work he’d been doing that had kept him from Orym. He knew it wasn’t good to be so dependent on him, but with every passing day, he just wanted Orym there with him. Wanted to wake in the morning next to him, wanted to see him during the day, and wanted to go to sleep at night beside him. He’d never wanted anyone this much and it was terrifying.

Tonight was one of the nights Orym hadn’t come over and it was all because of a difficult, late afternoon client he’d had. He still wasn’t on board with the idea of Orym being there while he was working, especially with one-to-one clients who still expected him to be single. It was no fault of Orym’s; it was his own hang-up. So in the end, by the time his private video call was done, it was late and he was far too exhausted to do much beyond sink into his warm bubble bath and let his head lull back. After washing himself off, he towel-dried his hands and reached over to grab his phone, pausing his music and dialling Orym instead, settling back and waiting for him to answer.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Orym answered on the third ring, prompt as always.

“Hi.” Dorian let himself sink further into the bath, keeping just his head above the water. “Whatcha doing?”

“Not much, I just finished preparing dinner and now it’s in the oven, so I thought I’d water my plants while I waited.”

“Oooh, what are we having tonight?” Dorian grinned as if his own dinner plans would be anything other than a frozen meal.

“It’s like a chicken pasta bake kinda deal. Nana Morri gave me the recipe ages ago and I figured I’d see if it was any good.”

“Nana Morri?”

“Fearne’s grandmother; that’s what she insists we all call her, even though I’m not sure she’s even really related to Fearne. She’s lovely though, makes a mean cocktail.”

Dorian chuckled. “You’ll have to tell me how it goes then. You seem to have a knack for telling if I’ll like something or not.”

“You seem to like everything I cook, so maybe it’ll be fine,” Orym laughed. Then he lowered his voice to a more serious tone. “Dor, did something happen? Are you okay? You sound a little…off.”

“Yeah but…I don’t wanna talk about it. I’d rather just hear about what you’ve been up to today.”

“Okay.” Orym then launched into a full blow-by-blow of his seemingly exhaustive day: three solo classes in the morning, followed by a hen’s party who’d wanted to learn pole as a fun group activity. “And now I’m watering my plants and talking to my boyfriend while I wait for my dinner.”

Dorian felt himself flush a little. He still wasn’t quite used to just how casually Orym threw that word around and it made him embarrassed every time.

“You know, I did wonder, whatever happened to never dating your students?”

Orym laughed brightly. “Firstly, I’d hardly call what we were doing dating, and secondly you were the first age-appropriate male I’d ever taught.”

“Wait, what?”

“Dor, most of my students are women or men who are barely into their twenties. Neither are my type.”

“So then…the you not dating students thing…was a joke?” Dorian bit at his fingernails absently.

“Yeah? I was flirting with you?” Orym paused for a long moment. “Dorian is that why you refused to kiss me for so long because I said I didn’t date?”

“I mean! Kinda!” Dorian rubbed at his face. “I didn’t think there were romantic vibes between us and you said you didn’t date students! I’m sorry, I’m just going to drown myself in this bath.”

“No, don’t do that; that's silly,” Orym laughed warmly. “I’d like my boyfriend in one piece when I come to visit him next, please.”

Dorian smiled dumbly to himself. “And when will that be?”

“Tomorrow maybe?”

“Or…I could come over tonight and help you eat your chicken bake thing?” Dorian asked, hopefully.

“You’re not too tired from work?”

“I mean, I am but…it’s too late for the buses for you to come here and you worked a lot already today and you already have your dinner on.”

“Don’t push yourself just for me, though. I’ll still be here tomorrow and the next day and the day after that.”

“I know…” Dorian popped several bubbles absently. “Sometimes I just kinda wished we lived closer together.”

“It would be easier,” Orym agreed softly, like he wanted to say more but didn’t. “It’s up to you, sweetheart, but don’t go out of your way if you’re already tired. Rest up if you need.”

Dorian considered for a long moment, just listening to the sounds of Orym pottering on the other end of the line. “Fuck it, I’m coming over. I need cuddles.”

“Okay. Drive safely and take your time. I’d rather you took an hour to get here than not at all.”

“I’ll be safe. See you soon.”

--

Orym could always tell the difference between the various people who knocked on his door most days. Ashton pounded with no sense of remorse for the poor door. FCG was a rhythmic series of knocks like binary code. Laudna and Imogen were both quiet and polite knockers; Imogen in particular would space out her knocks over several minutes if he didn’t hear her at first and Laudna picked a different tune every time. Chetney rarely knocked; just usually called out for Orym to open the door for him because his hands were full of some project or other. Fearne almost never knocked and he knew somewhere she had a spare key even though he’d never explicitly given her one. Dorian, however, while in the same vein as Imogen and Laudna, was somehow even quieter, as if he didn’t want to be heard at all, which seemed pointless when you were trying to get someone's attention for them to let you in. But for Dorian, it made perfect sense.

He opened the door to find Dorian waiting patiently, wringing his hands together nervously, as if he hadn’t been here a million times before.

“Hi,” He greeted as he slipped past Orym who pulled the door shut behind him. “That smells amazing.”

He’d been a little doubtful of Nana Morri’s recipe at first but Dorian was right; the aroma that filled the air did promise a decent meal. “It’s just come out of the oven so I’ll dish up and then we’ll eat, okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

While he hadn’t intended to have a guest over for dinner that night, Orym had gotten well into the habit of making more than he needed just in case he did have surprise guests. And even if he didn’t, that just meant there were leftovers for another day. So he dished up two meals and they retired to the couch to eat, Orym flicking on the evening news just to have as background noise while they ate. Usually, Dorian was very chatty over their meals, especially ones Orym had cooked, but today he just looked a little lost in his own thoughts, eating automatically.

“Do you like it?” Orym asked, curious to see if the prompt would lead anywhere.

“Oh! Yes, it’s excellent. Nana Morri knew what she was doing when she gave you this recipe.” He chuckled but it felt a little flat.

“Dor,” Orym reached across to touch his arm lightly. “You don’t have to tell me what happened but I’m worried about you.”

“I…” Dorian stared down at his half-finished plate for a long moment. “It was just an exhaustive session and I’m still kinda processing it?”

“That’s okay; is there anything I can do to help?”

Dorian shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just…this guy had this whole story written out he wanted me to follow along with and like, I know it’s a fantasy, what I sell is a fantasy. But what happens when that fantasy is suddenly a lot closer to home than I expected?”

“Did he ask you to do something you weren’t comfortable with?” Orym asked.

“No, that’s not exactly…” Dorian twisted his hands together. “He wanted me to pretend that I was only doing this because he was blackmailing me and well, that’s nothing unusual. But then during the session, he said something about outing me to my family and my friends about being a pornstar and, well, my friends already know that about me, my family already know about that too, unfortunately. And yet, despite that knowledge, I still felt anxious about it because what if someone outside my bubble does discover that BabyBlue and Dorian Storm are the same person? What do I do then?”

“We go to the police and get you out of the city for a while,” Orym said matter-of-factly, putting his mostly empty plate onto the coffee table.

“That was confident.” Dorian raised an eyebrow towards him. “...and quick.”

“I’ve…had plenty of time to consider the possibility that one day it might happen and kind of prepared accordingly. I’ve seen your mail, Dor. You attract some creeps and one day one of them might go too far. Besides, there are plenty of nice camping grounds an hour or so drive just out of the city and no one would think to look for you out there.”

“Oh.” Dorian blinked at him. “You’ve really thought about this?”

“Yeah. You can never be too careful. I have one in place for Fearne as well - get her as quickly as possible to Nana Morri’s. Even the creepiest of stalkers would not dare go near Ligament Manor on a normal day, let alone follow Fearne there.”

“I’m somehow not as surprised as I should be.” Dorian poked at his food once more before stacking his plate on top of Orym’s. “That’s actually really kind of comforting, knowing you would be prepared to do that for me.”

Orym reached across to take Dorian’s hand and brought it up to press his knuckles to his lips. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Dorian curled the corner of his lip and slid his hand up to cup Orym’s cheek instead. Orym instinctively pressed into it fondly for a moment before sighing softly.

“In other, better news, I have a gift for you.”

Dorian instantly brightened, curiously peering at him. “A gift for me? Is it something shiny?”

Orym laughed and hopped up off the couch. “I mean, kind of.”

He quickly padded to his room, glancing behind him to make sure Dorian had stayed seated on the couch, even if the genasi did crane over the back of it, trying to watch where Orym was going or catch sight of what he was bringing back. Thankfully, Orym’d had the foresight to put it in a little box - not a ring box, just in case Dorian got the wrong idea - and kept it behind his back as he stepped around the couch. Dorian quickly rearranged himself, as if he’d been waiting patiently the whole time and only once he’d settled did Orym offer out the little gift box and place it in his palm. Dorian looked it over curiously and eagerly before popping off the lid and peering inside. Orym watched as his face clouded over with confusion for a moment, and then he suddenly snapped his attention back to Orym.

“Wait. No. Really?”

“Yeah. I figured you’re around enough; it makes sense for you to have your own key.”

Dorian carefully plucked the little silver key out of the box and weighed it in his palm for a moment. Then he reached out for Orym with his other hand and curled it around him, bringing him in for a tight hug. Orym held on just as tightly until Dorian drew back again to wipe his eyes.

“It’s just a key…I don’t know why I’m getting all emotional over it…” Dorian muttered, looking back down at it again.

“Never been given a key to a boyfriend's place before?” Orym asked, even though he had a good idea he already knew the answer.

“No, never.” He collected his thoughts and looked back up at Orym. “Should I give you a key to my place in return? I mean, it would save you having to text me to come get you from the lobby or asking the doorman to let you up.”

“That is entirely your decision, Dor.” Orym curled Dorian’s hand around the key and patted it affectionately. “I don’t expect you to do that. I just wanted to give you this so you know you’re welcome anytime, even if I don’t answer the door.”

“Anytime?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, anytime.”

--

There had definitely been a half of a second where Dorian had thought Orym might have been having him on with the key. That maybe it was more of a symbolic thing than an actual key that worked. And then it turned in the lock smoothly and the door to Orym's apartment swung open with a soft creak of hinges. For a moment, his heart raced. This was an insane amount of trust Orym had bestowed upon him and here he was using it to break in and surprise him with dinner. That was something boyfriends did right? Surprising their partners with dinner with their brand new key to their apartments.

But maybe he should have double-checked that Orym was even home, as now he looked, the apartment was dark and there was no sign of anyone here. He tossed his shoes into the shoe rack and rechecked the day. It was Folsen, which meant that Orym had two morning classes and an empty afternoon. Usually. Unless he'd had an evening client he hadn't told Dorian about? Maybe he was just at the studio then. In that case, when Orym left there he'd no doubt see Dorian's car parked across the street from there would know that his boyfriend was waiting for him at home. Content, he settled himself on the couch with one of the cosier blankets that smelled like Orym and put on the TV as background noise to wait.

However, the later it got, the more Dorian began to worry. Surely by now Orym’s lesson would be over and he would be on his way home? Maybe he hadn't had a lesson and was somewhere else? Why hadn't he told Dorian? Though…Dorian had mentioned he would be working late tonight and then he'd gotten it all done before dinner, eager to visit and use his new gift. Not to mention, Orym didn't need his permission to go out and spend time with others. Maybe he would just text Orym and see what he was up to and from there he could decide to stay or go home again.

Just as he pulled up Orym’s text thread, he heard a commotion in the hallway followed by the sound of a key in the lock of the door. Dorian rose curiously and circled around the couch as the door unlocked, opened and in spilled a crowd of unfamiliar, colourful people, laughing and chattering. In the lead was Orym, who was grinning widely. Dorian froze at the same time they all seemed to notice him standing there, stopping in place in the front entranceway, several of them already halfway out of their shoes and coats. Orym's expression shifted into confusion.

"Dor?"

Instinct kicked in and he fled, darting for the safest space he knew in this house - Orym's room.

"Dorian!" Orym called after him even as he slammed the door shut and backed away from it.

Orym had been out with his friends and now he'd invaded their evening like the leech he was. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be here. Panic settled into his lungs like an old friend as he glanced around the room, looking for an appropriate place to stuff himself so he was out of the way and not a bother. He ended up tucking himself into the corner of the room between the clothes basket and the wall, burying his face into his knees. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be here.

The door creaked open.

"Sweetheart." Of course Orym had followed him. "Dor, are you okay? Do you want me to tell them to leave?"

"No!" His head shot up and he suddenly found himself face to face with Orym. "No, no, you shouldn't have to send away your friends because of me. I shouldn't be here, I broke in!"

Orym snorted. "You can't break in if I gave you a key, babe; that's not how it works."

“I shouldn’t be here!” Dorian hissed, curling himself into a tighter ball. “I just…wanted to surprise you. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Orym knelt down in front of him and gently coaxed him to look at him. “You have nothing to apologise for. It’s really sweet that you wanted to surprise me. I just didn’t think you were free tonight, that’s all; otherwise I would have been here.”

Dorian sniffed. “I’m sorry-” His own stomach cut him off as it suddenly growled loudly.

“You haven’t had dinner yet, have you?” Orym asked knowingly as Dorian shook his head.

“I was waiting for you.”

Orym nodded. “I think I’ve got something or other I can cook up-”

“No! I uh…I brought dinner with me to share. I…got us some of those noodles…like the ones we had the first time I stayed over…”

“You brought me noodles?” He asked and beamed when Dorian nodded. Orym then leant over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I have the best boyfriend. Trying to surprise me with one of my favourites.”

Dorian flushed. “It’s just…in the microwave.”

“Alright.” Orym stood back up, but not before he leant over to scatter more kisses across Dorian’s face, to the point that he started laughing and trying to bat him away.

“You want me to bring it to you here? There’s no shame if you’re not ready for a group of people and my friends can be a lot. And if you really want to leave, I can get Ash to run interference with Fearne so you can escape without her holding you up.”

Dorian wrung his hands together. He knew he couldn’t run from Orym’s friends forever. Eventually, he would have to meet them, especially considering how serious his relationship with Orym was slowly turning. But the idea of going out there now just turned his stomach the wrong way. Or maybe that was just the hunger pains.

“Yeah…just the food and I’ll…I’ll see how I feel after?”

Orym nodded, stole one last kiss and then scampered out back to the noise of several people settling into Orym’s living room, laughing and joking loudly with each other. Orym soon returned with food for him, reheated to the perfect temperature to eat it, before he excused himself to take care of his guests. Dorian could tell Orym was worried about him and a part of him knew if he asked, Orym would get everyone to leave so he would feel comfortable. But the thought of that twisted like a knife in his stomach. He didn’t want to be that demanding of Orym’s time. He knew he already took up a good portion of Orym’s time - too much of, he worried constantly - and he didn’t want to deny Orym his friends just because he was uncomfortable. That wasn’t fair on Orym or his friends. So instead, he just kept himself tucked into the corner and slowly ate his noodles, considering his options.

By the time he’d eaten his fill of food, he could hear the sounds of a movie being talked over and overlapping conversations, including Orym’s voice. He’d come to the conclusion that he wanted to be out there with him, even if it meant being in a crowd of mostly strangers. He knew Fearne and could at least recognise Ashton, so he had that going for him. The others, though, they all gave him pause. What if they didn’t like him? What if they didn’t like him so much that they convinced Orym to break up with him? Maybe it was better for him to just hide away in here. Surely they wouldn’t stay too late after all and then he could just spend the night. But he was also curious about the kind of people Orym chose to surround himself with. He’d dropped everything the other week to go sit with one of them in the emergency room, and it was clear they all felt extremely comfortable just invading his home. They were all obviously close and maybe he should take the chance to get to know them as well.

Stealing his resolve at the doorway, he slowly snuck out into the corridor, trying not to disturb them in the dark of the living room. He knew his way around well enough to avoid bumping into the back of the couch as he stepped past them all and into the kitchen. None of them seemed to acknowledge him as he slipped past, though admittedly Fearne was too distracted to notice him; animatedly talking to Ashton and an unfamiliar gnomish man who was perched on her knee and Orym was in deep conversation with a purple-haired woman across the way. So while they weren’t paying attention to him, he quickly disposed of his take-out container into the bin under the sink and grabbed a glass to have some water. Once he’d finished and turned over the glass in the sink, he finally glanced across, just in time to see a few curious sets of eyes hurriedly looking away. But not Orym’s. Instead, he slipped quietly off the chair he’d been occupying and came around the back of the couch to meet with Dorian at the edge of the counter as the conversation of the living room suddenly died down and they all turned to watch on curiously.

“You wanna join us?” Orym asked, sliding his hand into Dorian’s, brushing his thumb over his knuckles comfortingly. “You can say no; they’ll understand.”

Dorian considered for a moment, looking down at where their hands joined, the familiar weight of Orym’s hand in his own. He could do this.

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Orym squeezed his hand then turned to the group. “It’s alright if Dorian joins us, right guys?”

There was a general murmuring of ‘yes, absolutely’ and ‘that's fine’ except for the older gnomish man who sneered and piped up loudly, “Whose Dorian?”

“I’m Dorian,” He said automatically, though perhaps that was obvious. “Um, I’m Dorian Storm.”

“What kind of fucking name is Dorian Storm?”

“Chetney, be nice,” Fearne chastised and the gnome bustled a little. “Dorian’s a friend of mine too, so you have to be nice to him, okay?”

“I make no promises,” Chetney sniffed, crossing his arms before glaring at Dorian once more. “You look like a Dorian.”

“Jokes on you…” Dorian muttered to himself and caught Orym’s curious glance up at him. Very suddenly, he realised that he hadn’t yet explained that entire mess to Orym and perhaps that was an oversight on his part. Orym didn’t comment any further, though, and just cleared his throat.

“Dorian, meet Bell’s Hells. Bell’s Hells, this is my boyfriend, Dorian.”

Dorian waved a little awkwardly, reeling a little from actually being introduced as Orym’s Boyfriend. “Hi. Lovely to, uh, meet you all.”

“Does this mean you’ve stopped hooking up with that pornstar?” Ashton joked with a lopsided grin. “You still got his number, Orym? I might try my luck.”

Dorian blinked in confusion as Orym snorted a laugh. “Trust me, Ash, he’s not your type.”

“Hello!”

Dorian jumped violently as, beside him, an unfamiliar woman suddenly appeared, dressed in dark rich fabrics with long black hair hanging down around her face. She extended a bony hand to him with a grin. “I’m Laudna.”

“Hello,” He took the offered hand and shook it hesitantly.

“We’re very pleased to finally meet you.” Laudna motioned to the purple-haired woman on the couch. “And that’s Imogen. She’s very clever and just finished up her PhD in Astronomy and we’re all very proud.”

Imogen sighed fondly. “Laudna, you know you don’t have to tell everyone we meet that I graduated.”

Laudna pouted and drifted over to rest her hands on Imogen’s shoulders. “But you deserve to be celebrated for it, darling. You worked so hard for it.”

"She’s right though; that is a huge achievement and congratulations for it." Dorian agreed and Imogen smiled with a soft 'Thank you.' Orym gently squeezed his hand to get his attention again.

“So you’ve met Ash before-” The genasi gave him a curt wave. “And then this is Fresh Cut Grass, FCG or Grass for short.”

The little yellow robot perked up from their spot on the floor next to Ashton’s legs. “Well, smiley day to ya, Dorian! It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. Will we be seeing you around more often?”

“Oh! Uhm…” Dorian glanced down at Orym. “That depends on how busy I am. Maybe. We’ll see.”

FCG seemed to accept that answer with a nod and settled back down. Orym motioned to Fearne and the gnome, Chetney.

“And of course, you know Fearne, and the cranky old man is Chetney.”

“You better watch yourself, Orym!”

“Don’t mind him, he’s always like this.” Orym then gently nudged Dorian towards the empty armchair. “You sit down and I’m gunna make everyone some popcorn.”

“It better be triple butter flavoured or you're dead to me, Orym!” Ashton called and Orym waved him off with a laugh.

Dorian nodded to Orym and then carefully made his way around behind the couch before all but collapsing into the spare armchair, all the while feeling eyes on him. When he looked back up, the rest of the curious cast of characters had moved back into their various conversations, aside from Chetney, who was glaring daggers at him. Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, he pulled his legs up under himself, absently making himself as small as possible in the hopes the old man would stop staring at him. Thankfully, Fearne soon recaptured his attention and instead, Imogen leant across the arm of the couch to address him.

“So tell me a little about yourself, Dorian.”

And from there, it was a little bit easier. Imogen was fairly easy to talk to and didn’t prod him for answers he wasn’t willing to give. She was happy to answer his questions as they arose. Laudna was unusual, often leaning across to add in morbid little details - like how their friend Bell was the reason for the group name and that he was also deceased now - but otherwise he found her rather charming. Then Orym returned with several large bowls of popcorn, almost as big as him, and they were distributed between the couches and chairs. Dorian, however, wasn’t prepared for Orym to then clamber up and bully himself into Dorian’s lap along with a smaller bowl of popcorn and then suddenly address Imogen as if their conversation hadn’t been halted. Dorian quickly glanced up at the others, but no one appeared to be paying much attention to them, drawn back in by the movie or their own discussions.

Letting himself relax a little, Dorian carefully tucked an arm around Orym’s waist and instinctively the halfling lent back against him, a warm, familiar weight that was calming and grounding. So he resolved to steal some popcorn from Orym’s bowl, rest his chin on his shoulder and just listen as Orym and Imogen talked. From this position, he couldn’t watch the movie properly without craning his neck but he was honestly more than content to just watch this strange collection of friends interact, working out where the lines of connection were drawn. Later he would be able to ask Orym more and fill in the gaps he’d missed, but this was nice either way.

Eventually, booze was added into the mix and after three drinks that Fearne had definitely spiked with something heavy, Chetney was challenging Ashton to an arm wrestle. Meanwhile, the three women were practically snuggled together on the couch, Laudna holding her wine glass pointed away from Fearne as the fae sipped on the godforsaken concoction he’d watched her whip up in the kitchen. Dorian himself hadn’t moved from the armchair but had shifted to throw his legs over the armrest instead with Orym still settled in his lap. Over the last hour, though, Orym had slowly drifted downwards, curling comfortably until his head was rested just under Dorian’s chin and somehow, despite the noise his friends were making, appeared to have drifted off to sleep. Dorian probably wasn’t helping, absently rubbing his hand up and down along Orym’s spine, as much a comfort to himself as it relaxed Orym.

Naturally, Ashton won the arm wrestle, capturing Chetney in a headlock before announcing that he and FCG were going to head off because they had an early start tomorrow. Chetney, once back on his own two feet, immediately began to proposition Fearne, who debated for a long moment while Laudna got up and started collecting up the empty dishes around the place.

“Oh, I can do that, Laudna,” Dorian said, going to move but all at once everyone was up in arms, warning him to stay put. And he didn’t want to know where Chetney had pulled that chisel from.

Confused, Dorian settled back down and just watched as Ashton, FCG, Chetney and Fearne all said their goodbyes and wandered out in two waves. Once they were gone, Dorian turned his head as best he could to look at Imogen.

“Why don’t you want me to move?”

“Orym’s asleep?” Imogen said, as if it were the most obvious thing.

Dorian blinked. “...he sleeps every night, Imogen, what's the difference? Besides, I think he’d wanna be awake to say goodbye?”

Imogen shook her head. “Orym does not sleep, Dorian. Last year, when Laudna broke her leg, he came over to help me look after her and spent a couple of nights. I have frequent nightmares, so I’m up and down most nights and every time I got up, Orym was already awake and alert. So this,” She motioned to Orym passed out against him. “...is unusual for us to see and maybe we could have handled that a little better than just yelling at you. But we don’t wanna wake him. He’ll probably be annoyed about it in the morning but…we’d rather him sleep. He does a lot for all of us, let him have this.”

Dorian looked down at Orym, still absentmindedly rubbing his back. “You say he doesn’t sleep well but…some mornings I’m up before he is.”

“He must feel very safe with you, then.”

“I’m the one who feels safe with him,” Dorian murmured more to himself than Imogen before saying slightly louder. “He’s been good to me.”

Imogen looked at him for a long moment. “You really love him, don’t you?”

Dorian froze, staring at her wide-eyed for a moment. She covered her mouth, as if only just realising what she’d just said herself.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“I do.” The admission is easier than he thought it would be. “But he doesn't know yet. I’m not ready to…to say it.”

Imogen nodded. “I know a thing or two about that.”

Dorian looked over at Laudna at the sink, humming away happily as she washed the dishes. “I thought you two were…”

“You would think after three years of living together I would have said something but…sometimes it’s hard. Or you think they finally understand and then nothing changes.”

“I hope it doesn’t take me that long…”

“You might find yourself on the end of Chetney’s chisel if it takes you that long. He’s very protective of Orym.”

Dorian chuckled softly. “Alright then, tell you what; I’ll come clean if you do. Consider it an incentive to do something that would make Orym happy. You tell Laudna how you feel and regardless of the outcome - which from the way she looks at and talks about you, I can’t imagine would be anything but extremely positive - and then I’ll tell Orym how I feel.”

Imogen narrowed her eyes. “Why do I have to confess first?”

“Because you’ve made her wait three years, Imogen. Orym and I haven’t even been together a year.”

“I see your point.” She chewed her lip in a way that felt familiar. “Alright. But you better hold up your end and not chicken out on me.”

“Cross my heart,” Dorian promised. “I’m sure I’ll hear about it through Orym when it happens.”

Imogen sighed softly, seeming to steel herself as Laudna wandered back over, having finished off the dishes. “We should be heading home as well.”

“It was lovely to meet everyone tonight. Thank you for being so welcoming of me.” Dorian took Laudna’s offered hand and squeezed. “I better get Orym into bed before his old man back complains about sleeping out here.”

Imogen snorted but Laudna nodded sagely and said, “Try not to keep the dear up too late.”

Dorian felt himself flush as Laudna cackled a little before the two ladies excused themselves and locked the door behind them on their way out. And then it was just the two of them. Dorian finally shifted, his back complaining about holding himself in that position for too long. Orym instantly startled awake with a cute snort, sitting up and looking around at the empty apartment.

“How long was I out?” He asked, rubbing at his eyes as Dorian wrapped his arms around him tightly.

“About an hour, though you were in and out even before that. They all insisted that I let you sleep.”

“‘Course they did…” Orym muttered before turning in Dorian’s lap to face him. “Are you staying or..?”

“Yeah, I’m staying, darling.”

Orym smiled and drew Dorian down into a welcome kiss. However, before he could make it more interesting, there came a loud howling noise from across the hall and they both turned to look.

“Did Chetney go home with Fearne?” Orym asked wearily.

“Uh, I think so? They were flirting on their way out.”

Orym sighed and hopped off of Dorian’s lap. “We’re gunna need some earplugs.”

Chapter Text

I'm gonna break down these walls, I built around myself.
I wanna fall so in love, with you, and no one else,
Could ever mean half as much, to me as you do now.
Together we'll move on, just don't turn around,
Let the walls break down.

Over the next few weeks, as the weather slowly turned colder and they headed from autumn into winter, Orym began to notice a few changes in Dorian’s behaviour around him. For a start, he had taken time out of his days to take some promotional photos for Orym’s account, claiming he needed some new things to gain more attention. Dorian talked him through the process, taking a bunch of different photos of different poses before showing him how he edited them to make them pop. He also finally got to show off the finished results of the videos they’d taken all those months ago, perfectly polished to be seamless and dazzling. Orym was rather impressed that Dorian had done all of this for him and it turned out to work a treat as Orym ended up gaining more than a few new students. Dorian decided to take his payment in the form of being taken to a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant, which was another surprise because normally trying to get Dorian to leave the house was like pulling teeth.

Another thing he’d noticed was that Dorian was letting him stay longer in the mornings at his condo before he had to work. To the point where Orym got to see the full extent of Dorian’s preparations for various videos and streams, watching him sit at his vanity for over an hour just to make sure the contour on his chest was just right and that it looked believable without being too faint. He also spent quite a while making sure the hickey on his neck was covered completely, then kept looking back at the spot forlornly, as if it were a shame to cover it. Then the biggest surprise came when Dorian stopped him from leaving one morning, tucked up in his robe and pressed a wrapped parcel into Orym’s hands.

“It’s…a laptop?” He asked curiously once he’d peeled back the wrapping and looked at the top of the box.

“Yes. I, uh, know you tend to do a lot of your OnlyHeroes stuff via your phone or on Fearne’s computer so I thought it might be handy for you to have your own laptop to use. It’s already connected to my wifi so you can use it anytime you’re here and if you want, next time I come over, I can connect it up to Fearne’s for you.”

Orym blinked down at this very expensive gift and swallowed. “Uhm…”

“Don’t you even think about trying to repay me, darling; I know that look.”

“But-”

“No buts! It’s yours now.” Dorian twisted his fingers together. “However, if you wanted to, you could maybe use it here…on Yulesen….when I stream?”

Orym blinked in confusion.

“...I want you to be here on Yulesen when I stream. I’d…like it if you would monitor the chat for me. But only if you don’t mind.”

“Oh!” Orym looked between the laptop and Dorian for a moment. “Yes I can…I mean, you’ll have to show me how it all works ‘cause, you know, I’m not great with tech but yes, yes if you want me to, I’ll do that.”

Dorian seemed to sag with relief. “Awesome. Uh, I’d better let you go, you have classes.”

He swooped down and Orym gratefully accepted the kiss pressed upon him.

“I’ll see you soon.”

--

As it turned out, moderating Dorian’s chat was fairly straightforward. He had a choice of seconds for timing out, depending on what he deemed necessary, a ban button and a filter option for words or phrases they didn’t want in the chat. Dorian made sure he was confident with all the options before venturing into his office to set up for the stream. It still felt strange to be sitting in Dorian’s bedroom with his laptop on his lap, stream open, knowing he was about to watch his boyfriend perform sexual acts for strangers on the internet. And it wasn’t as if Orym had never watched any of Dorian’s streams before. He’d seen more than a couple and had seen the effect on Dorian afterwards. He’d also been the thing Dorian did afterwards a couple of times.

Thankfully, everyone was fairly well-behaved, though he did end up banning a couple of people for some spam links and timing out others for being rude and demanding. It was also still a very surreal experience to read all the comments about the things these people wanted to do to Dorian, knowing what he knew about how domineering Dorian could get in bed. He laughed particularly hard about one commenter who declared that Dorian would be just a helpless bitch on his cock and would thank him afterwards and beg for more. More often than not, Orym ended up the one begging, so it particularly tickled him. Then the stream was over and Orym could hear the sound of the bath being run. He waited until the water had shut off before he padded in to check on him.

Steam was steadily rising up off the bath and Dorian currently nothing more than just a head and an arm dangling over the side in relaxed bliss. He looked over curiously as Orym shut the door behind himself before smiling and reaching out for him.

“Hey you,” Dorian greeted, sliding a hand up to cup Orym’s cheek once he was close enough. “What did you think of the stream?”

Orym hummed and gently took Dorian’s face into his hands.

“It was very hot.” He stole a kiss. “You did such a good job, sweetheart.”

He pressed a deeper kiss on him and Dorian chuckled when he drew back.

“Careful, my boyfriend might think you’re trying to steal me away from him,” He teased before drawing Orym down into another kiss.

“If he was a smart man, he’d be here right now with you, telling you how pretty you looked in that red lace but how much better it looks on the floor.”

Dorian laughed and suddenly Orym found himself being hauled into the bath with him, clothes and all, landing squarely in Dorian’s lap before he was kissed within an inch of his life. He grasped onto any part of Dorian he could reach, kissing him back just as eagerly until Dorian slowed and pulled away, resting their foreheads together.

“You know, I think you’re about my boyfriend's size, so I may have some spare clothes hanging around for you later.”

Orym laughed brightly and shucked off his shirt to join Dorian’s lingerie on the ground with a wet slap. He was then wrestled out of the rest of his clothes, Dorian dragging him back down into a filthy kiss before wrapping his hand around Orym’s hardening cock. Dorian then proceeded to suck hickeys into his neck and edge him until he was half out of his mind with want before finally giving in to his begging and letting him come so hard he saw stars. Afterwards, Orym just lay against his chest, basking in the warmth of Dorian and the water as Dorian gently washed his back.

“I adore you,” Dorian whispered into his hair, pressing his fingers absently up along Orym’s spine like he was counting bones. “I adore you.”

It felt like he was trying to say something else.

“I adore you too,” Orym whispered back, kissing him softly.

From then on, Dorian was much more relaxed about the idea of Orym being there when he worked. Especially if Orym brought his headphones and sat out in the living room. Sometimes afterwards, Dorian would poke his head out and let him know he’d finished up. Other times he’d get a text from the bathroom letting him know he was de-stressing and wanted company in there. And then the day came when he knew he’d broken down some of the last of Dorian’s barriers. After what he assumed was a rough session, a freshly bathed Dorian sought him out on the couch, shoved aside his laptop so he could plant his face in Orym’s lap instead and then went on a forty-five-minute rant about how much he hated food play. Hated the mess, hated the food they always chose, hated the way his skin felt afterwards because of the stickiness and the powdered sugar that got everywhere. Orym just listened mostly, petting Dorian’s hair and commenting in the silences where it felt appropriate.

“And you know what the worst thing is?” Dorian sat up suddenly, his robe and hair in disarray but he seemed uncaring. “Is that they always want me to use their names. And like, I get that, it’s a personal video, but there are only so many times where I can say another man's name before I just wish it was yours.”

Orym closed his laptop and properly set it aside. “I have always wondered, and forgive me if this is presumptuous, but do you…think about me when you’re working?”

Dorian looked aside a little embarrassed. “Sometimes. I have to be careful though, the last thing we need is for me to say your name on a stream where I can’t edit it out and then have everyone up in arms about me having a boyfriend.”

“Right, ‘cause you do the…” Orym trailed off as Dorian nodded.

“The boyfriend experiences, yes. And like there’s no rule against me having a boyfriend but it’s just better if people online think I’m still single. That I’m potentially obtainable to the everyday horny masses who flock to my streams.”

Orym smirked a little and lent across to thumb at Dorian’s lip. “It’s kind of a bit of an ego boost to know I’ve got something everyone else wants.”

Dorian shivered and leaned in. “And now you’ve got it, what are you going to do with it?”

“I think,” Orym coaxed him in until their lips were almost touching. “I’ll take him to bed and fuck him until the only word coming out of his mouth is my name.”

He let out a little startled gasp before Orym kissed him hard, then quickly pulled back. Dorian then swore and pounced, hauling Orym up over his shoulder with a laugh before they went stumbling for the bedroom together eagerly.

--

Hours later, Orym startled awake, his heart pounding in his ears, the echoes of Will screaming in his head. His hands grasped for something, anything to hold onto but clenched around nothing but the blankets in front of him. For a long moment, he was lost in the sea of sheets, drowning, sinking, his body like concrete, holding him pinned in place. Then a comforting hand pressed flat against his chest before he was being dragged back into Dorian's waiting arms, the genasi curling around him warmly like a blanket of safety. Slowly, Orym willed himself to take a deep breath, and then another and another, following the half-asleep pattern that Dorian was seemingly unconsciously leading him through. And then he spoke and Orym realised he was fully awake.

"Bad dream?"

Orym shuddered. "Yeah. Worst kind."

Dorian cuddled him somehow impossibly tighter, tucking his face into the side of Orym’s neck and planting soft kisses there.

“I got you. I’m here and real. It was just a dream, Orym.”

“I know,” Orym took another steadying breath, willing his heart rate to follow. “I don’t usually…dream as much when you’re near. They’re still terrifying when I do but…having you here makes it a little easier afterwards.”

Dorian chuckled right against his ear. “Are you calling me a good influence, Orym? I think you’d be the first.”

Orym snorted softly. “I mean, if you want to be a bad influence, I could use a distraction.”

“I am always ready to be a bad influence on you, darling.” Dorian’s hands were immediately roaming, palming down across Orym’s chest and crotch and startling a low groan out of him. “Tell me what you want?”

“I don’t know…I don’t know…” Orym arched back against him as Dorian lightly drew his nails up along the line of his hardening cock. “Something…different maybe?”

Dorian hummed thoughtfully. “Something different, huh? Alright, bear with me.”

Orym soon found himself stripped naked and lying on his side with Dorian’s hand smearing lube between his inner thighs and up under his balls. He was methodical about it, if a little distracted, absently massaging the muscles as he went, making sure the area was slippery smooth. Once he was content with the results, Dorian rolled and wiggled out of his sleep pants before pressing back in as a line of warmth along Orym’s spine. Admittedly, he was a little curious about what Dorian had planned and was about to ask when Dorian suddenly pressed his cock between his thighs and pushed in with a firm thrust. The motion slid Dorian’s cock along the underside of his own, causing him to shiver, nerve endings tingling from the new sensation. It wasn’t as if they’d never rubbed against each other before, but it was different from this position. Dorian then curled around him and thrust again, just as agonisingly slow, dragging skin against skin and Orym moaned before stuffing his face into the pillow.

“Feel good?” Dorian asked softly against his ear.

He could only nod a little into the pillow. He felt Dorian chuckle softly against his hair before focusing back on thrusting, coaxing Orym to flex his thighs a little and cross his ankles to make a tighter space. Dorian groaned low in his ear with the next thrust and Orym let himself sink into the low hum of pleasure that vibrated between them, the dream slipping from his mind to be replaced with thoughts of Dorian. The sweat of sex, the shaking of breath and trembling heartbeat against his back, the soft kisses he pressed down along Orym’s neck and shoulders. Minutes could have dripped into hours for all he knew, absently weaponising his control of the muscles in his thighs to slowly torture Dorian for each slow roll of his hips. But everything had to end eventually.

“I’m close,” Dorian rasped against his ear. “Want you to come with me.”

Orym cursed softly and bit his lip, wrapping his hand around himself to stroke rapidly, working his frayed nerves up and over into completion just as Dorian came between his thighs with a broken moan. They trembled together, pressing close untill there was no space left between them, staying that way until Orym’s breathing returned to normal and Dorian’s heart rate slowed. Still, they didn’t move far just yet, Dorian’s arms locked around him, cradling him close before drawing his chin around so that he could kiss him slowly, dreamily. Orym soon drew back; it was late and they needed to get back to sleep sooner rather than later because they both had work in the morning. But first, they had to clean up the mess they had made.

Dorian was reluctant to move at first, but did so under Orym’s prodding and reminder that it would stain his sheets. Together they removed the top sheet, Dorian stuffing it into the washing machine while Orym laid out the fresh one before collapsing back into bed together, Orym stuffing his pillow into shape and settling before Dorian curled around him once more with a content sigh. Orym was just about to drift off again, his body ready to sink into the promise of sleep, when Dorian suddenly spoke softly.

“Orym?”

“Hmm?” He replied from where his face was half smushed into the pillow.

“Did…” Dorian paused and suddenly pressed his face into the side of Orym’s neck and lowered his voice, as if afraid someone might overhear him. “Did that feel…different for you?”

“Well, yeah. It was something new we haven’t tried before.”

“But did it feel different to you?” Dorian repeated a little more firmly.

Orym considered for a moment. It certainly hadn’t been like Dorian’s usual approach to sex, though he was slowly getting better with learning how to slow it down. But it hadn’t felt any different than normal.

“No?” He still wasn’t quite sure what Dorian was trying to ask.

Dorian groaned with frustration and pressed his hand over where Orym’s heart beat in his chest. “Here. Did it feel different here?”

Several things clicked into place in his mind as he realised what Dorian was trying to ask without saying the words. He supposed he could understand that, they still terrified him as well. However, now that he considered it, he’d long been aware of the ache in his heart and knew what it meant. But perhaps Dorian hadn’t. Maybe he didn’t know what it was like to have longing tugging on his heartstrings as a musician did on a harp. But now he listened and was paying attention, he began to wonder when that piano accompanist had joined in, harmonising with the melody that was achingly familiar.

“No,” Orym repeated softly. “No, it didn’t feel different tonight…but that’s because it already felt that way for me. I can’t tell you where or when or how but it’s been like that for a while and it always aches. It always aches, every time you’re near and even when you’re not. And I would never ask for more than you were willing to give me but you need to understand that I do feel it too, it’s just not new to me. It’s already every time. It’s every time Dorian I-”

Dorian moved quicker than he was prepared for, rolling Orym onto his back before landing heavily on top of him and pressing him back into the sheets to kiss him passionately. Instinctively, Orym buried his hands up into Dorian’s hair, kissing him back just as sweetly, wondering if Dorian realised just how close he’d been to admitting his love. Then, when Dorian pulled back, Orym felt the drop of warm tears hitting his face and chest.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

Orym coaxed him back down into the curve of his shoulder as Dorian sniffed and went willingly into the embrace, tucking himself around Orym in a wild tangle of limbs.

“I adore you. I adore you,” Orym whispered into Dorian’s hair, not for the first time wishing he was saying something else. “But it’s late and we should get back to sleep soon.”

Dorian slowly nodded into his shoulder before they carefully rearranged themselves back on their sides, this time facing one another. Orym absently wiped away the last of Dorian’s tears and just held his face for a moment.

“It hurts…” Dorian whispered absently, bringing Orym’s hand down from his face to rest against his heart. “Does it really always ache?”

“Yeah.” Orym squeezed his hand firmly. “But it gets easier with time. Especially when you share the weight.”

Dorian absently stroked his thumb across Orym’s hand clasped in his own. “...I don’t think I’ll ever want anyone else again.”

Orym swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Yeah. I feel the same.”

Dorian quietly smiled at him, squeezed his hand and lapsed into silence. After a moment longer, he snuggled in closer, tucking his head under Orym’s chin. Within minutes, Orym could tell he’d fallen back asleep and he followed not long after.

--

Strangely, Orym woke up alone the next morning. There was half a moment where he wondered if maybe their three-am chat had been too much too soon but then he remembered they were at Dorian’s apartment and he would have been ejected last night if that was the case. So instead, he lingered in bed a little longer, noting that Dorian’s side was fairly cold, meaning he’d been up for a little while. Then he heard the sounds of pots and pans being moved about in the kitchen, so he rose and helped himself to one of Dorian’s shirts. What were taller boyfriends for, if not for stealing and wearing their clothes after all? Dressed in as much as he was prepared to for the morning, he quietly padded down the corridor and paused at the corner, peeking around curiously.

Dorian stood at the stovetop in his pyjama pants and robe, humming happily to himself as he cracked eggs open into the pan. As Orym watched, he used the spatula to scramble them around messily, a little splashing up and onto him in the process. Dorian pulled a face and turned to the sink to wash it off, leaving the spatula in the pan. Orym noted then that the heat was turned up way too high and those eggs were going to burn if he didn’t step in. But at the same time, he was a little too enamoured with the fact that Dorian was trying to make him breakfast. So he stayed quiet for a moment longer and Dorian soon turned back around to the stove and lifted the spatula up. Upon seeing that the end had melted a little bit, he mouthed a small ‘oops’ and absently tried to curl it back out flat. But the damage was done so he shrugged and went back to scrambling the already half-cooked eggs.

Orym leant against the corner and smiled to himself. He was so stupidly in love with this idiot and there was a big part of him that wanted this every day. Though nowadays, most mornings they did have each other, they always eventually returned to their respective homes alone until the next time. And he knew that Dorian would never agree to move out of this apartment to live with Orym in his shitty little run-down. But he also knew that he could never be the one to ask Dorian if he wanted to live together. At least not without some idea that maybe Dorian would be interested in that. So for now he was stuck at another impasse, knowing what he wanted but afraid to ask for it. But he was going to allow himself to want, even knowing it hurt.

“Dorian, the heat is on too high, sweetheart; you’re going to burn them,” Orym said, finally announcing himself and Dorian startled, sending the spatula flying back over his head to clatter on the floor across the room.

“Orym! I…oh!” He finally seemed to register Oym’s words and hurriedly turned the heat down to a lower level. “...I just wanted to surprise you with some food but…uh…turns out I don’t even know how to make eggs.”

Orym chuckled as he retrieved the spatula from across the room. “That’s okay. Why don’t we make them together and I can show you how it goes?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Once they’d scraped out Dorian’s failed attempt - actually having to really scrape it because it had stuck to the bottom of the pan - Orym showed him a far more successful way of making scrambled eggs on a lower heat and without ruining the spatula further. Dorian perhaps did get a little bit distracted while standing behind Orym at the stovetop, but the halfling was an old pro at slapping away wandering hands while he cooked. And normally a thought like that might have made him a little sad, about how many mornings he’d spent like this with Will, but then Dorian would be demanding his attention again and the thought was gone and he was back to trying to make sure they didn’t burn this lot of eggs.

Orym let Dorian dish it up onto the plates, along with the toast he’d trusted Dorian not to burn before they retreated to the couch to eat in companionable silence. Only once he was finished did Dorian address him again.

“Do you think you could teach me?”

Orym raised an eyebrow. “What? To cook?”

“Yeah. Nothing super fancy but like…maybe a few easy things I could do that are hard to fuck up. Like, how hard are pancakes to make?”

Orym shrugged. “Not very, providing you know how to measure stuff out. We can try making some next time I come over.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

--

As the weather turned properly cold and with Winter’s Crest fast approaching, Orym found himself having to make several trips every couple of days to get rid of the backlog of gifts Dorian was receiving from his fans and admirers. It was almost hilariously ridiculous the amount of them that were currently piled up behind the well-decorated tree that he’d helped Dorian put up earlier in the month and that was even after Dorian had taken to opening several of them daily just to keep the pile from getting taller than himself. He’d even encouraged Orym to open a few, though he was reluctant to continue after about the third dildo he came across that was not in its original packaging. A lot of it turned out to be jewellery, though scattered amongst it were some pieces of lingerie - some were used underwear that Dorian had a bin on hand for - some of it was expensive make-up and some were brand new dildos that Dorian examined with a keen eye.

“So what do I get the man who has everything for Winter’s Crest?” Orym joked one evening as they sat watching a movie on his couch, Dorian curled into his side.

“Hmmm,” Dorian considered for a moment. “Well, you know what I like a lot better than anyone, so I wouldn’t be offended if you just bought me jewellery or something like that. I’d probably prefer it over everything else I’ve received so far 'cause it’ll be from my boyfriend.”

With a grin, Dorian leant over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. But as sweet as that was, that he would like anything Orym gave him, it still didn’t answer his question on what to get him. So he was back to the drawing board again it seemed. He could do this though, he could figure out what to get his boyfriend for Winters Crest.

“By the way,” Orym poked Dorian’s cheek gently to gather his attention. “Usually on the big holidays I video call my Ma and well…after that…disaster…that happened while I was away…”

“You mean where your sister walked in on you having phone sex with me?” Dorian grinned and Orym flushed deeply.

“Yes…that…happened and I had to explain, so they kinda know about you. And I may have mentioned in a recent call to my Ma that we were getting a bit more serious…so I was wondering if, and there’s no pressure to, but if you would like to…you know…meet her? Even if it’s just through a video call?”

“Oh.” Dorian’s eyes widened a little. “Really?”

“There’s no pressure and I have to warn you that my sisters will be there too. And my mother Nell. They’re always together for the holidays since dad died and I know they’ve been gossiping with my ma and they may try- they will interrogate you so if you don’t feel comfortable-”

“No, it’s…no that's fine. I just…you really want me to meet your family? Me?”

Orym nodded. “Yeah. Your job aside, you’re my boyfriend, Dorian, and not to mention the first one since Will, so they are insanely curious about you. Besides, I can’t imagine a world where my mothers didn’t adore you on sight.”

“I am very cute,” Dorian agreed with a nervous chuckle. “Okay. Yeah. Meeting the family. I can do that.”

Orym drew him into a soft kiss. “And if you change your mind, there’s no shame in backing out. I told ma you were shy, so they’ll understand if you feel the need to dip.”

“You’ve really thought of everything haven’t you?” Dorian asked, gently cupping Orym’s face.

“When it comes to you, I like to be prepared so you never feel the need to be anxious. What kind of boyfriend would I be otherwise?”

Dorian chuckled a little wetly and kissed him once more.

--

Orym had admittedly noticed that Dorian didn’t get many letters. So when he did receive one, especially one that didn’t look like a bill or bank statement, Orym was curious. Even more so when the name on the letter was addressed to ‘Brontë Wyvernwind’ and there were several very official-looking stamps and addresses written on the back. Still, he took it with him to Dorian’s, wondering if perhaps this was the thing that Cyrus wouldn’t tell him. When he arrived back at Dorian’s, which was starting to feel like home the more he spent time there, he found him in the process of baking, pulling a fresh tray of cookies out of the oven after letting Orym in.

“I think I’m getting real good at this,” Dorian declared as he tossed down his oven mitts. “Didn’t burn a single one this time.”

Orym chuckled. “Yeah, soon you’ll be a better cook than me.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” Dorian leant down to steal a kiss and finally spotted the letter still clutched in Orym’s hand. “Oooh, whatcha got there?”

“A letter.”

“For me?” Dorian asked with a smirk.

“For Brontë Wyvernwind.”

Dorian’s entire face fell, his eyes darting down to the letter before back up to Orym. “Well, shit.”

Orym held it out to him. “You don’t have to explain right now if you want to open your letter.”

Dorian chewed on his lip, looking between Orym and the letter, before he carefully took it and held it in his hands for a long moment. Then he sighed.

“It’s probably easier if I explain before I open it.” Dorian led him over to the couch so he could collapse onto it. “I know you and Cyrus talked privately while he was here. How much did he tell you about me?”

Orym sat down beside him. “He didn’t talk about you much, actually. He refused to tell me why he called you Bron when I asked. But he spoke a little bit about your parents and how they treated the both of you growing up. Not much beyond that.”

Dorian weighed the letter in his hands. “My birth name is Brontë Wyvernwind. I gave myself the name Dorian Storm when I was in college and when I moved here to the city, I started using it all the time to distance myself from my family. My parents are…rather high up in government positions - How much do you know about the Silken Squall?”

“Not a lot, though I’ve heard the name before. Isn’t it like the last floating city up near Aeshanadoor?”

“Yes, that’s right. My parents are pretty important there and as such there was a lot expected of Cyrus and me. He’s set up to be a lawyer and then eventually will probably take over our father's position on the council. And me, well, they wanted to stuff me into an apprenticeship of some kind with some lower-class governor, like an afterthought. So I would be in government but not able to ever change anything. I didn’t exactly agree but I didn’t really have much choice.”

Dorian absently fiddled with the letter in his hands. “I was going along with it until Cyrus left for school and suddenly they had all of their focus on me and everything wrong with me. So I left and came here to the city and haven’t looked back. Don’t get me wrong though; I love my people and my home but I can’t fucking stand my parents. And I know you want me to meet your ma but don’t expect the same courtesy with them. You met Cyrus at least. He’s the only one in my family worth meeting. Except my Nana but she's too elderly to leave the Squall nowadays."

Orym nodded, then leant across to lay his hand on Dorian’s arm and squeeze comfortingly. Dorian rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat.

“Hopefully within this envelope is my birth certificate, which will allow me to get my name changed to Dorian, legally. If not, it’s back to the drawing board of warring with the records department and bypassing my parent’s interference.”

“Then you should open it; don’t wait any longer on my account.”

Dorian smiled a little and nodded, quickly flipping it over to jam his thumb under the sealed fold and pop it open. Inside was what looked to be a stack of folded documents and Dorian drew them out eagerly and flipped them open. Instantly, Dorian brightened.

“They sent it!” He showed Orym the first page excitedly before curiously shuffling through the rest of the papers. “Looks like there’s also a letter from my parents here.”

He separated the other three pages away from his birth certificate, passing that to Orym so he could have a better look, before he took a quick glance over the contents of the letter.

“Nothing interesting,” He declared, scrunching them up into a ball in his hands and dropping them to the ground.

“At least put it in the bin, Dor,” Orym complained with a small laugh and Dorian flushed violet.

“It’s my house; I should be able to make a mess if I please,” Dorian grumbled but did as he was told and dumped the letter into the trash as Orym took a good long look over his birth certificate.

“This looks like the real deal. I assume these watermarks are the way they officiate it in the Squall?” Orym asked when Dorian rejoined him and accepted his birth certificate back.

“Yeah. I’m just…shocked they really sent it. It’s taken me about a year now to get this because my parents kept denying the applications. One must have gotten through. Or maybe Cyrus helped or something. I mentioned to him I was still trying to get a hold of it. Either way, they can’t stop me now, it’s Dorian Storm all the way.”

He laughed and then turned to Orym, a little more serious.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my name…I kind of just…You deserved to know and I didn’t tell you-”

Orym held up his hand. “We’ll call it even for me not telling you about Will for so long?”

Dorian suddenly beamed. “Deal.”

Chapter Text

Well, I've been deep in this sleeplessness, I don't know why
Just can't get away from myself
When I get back on my feet, I'll blow this open wide
And carry me home in good health
Screaming,
Who do you love?

Normally Dorian would have celebrated Winter’s Crest by getting drunk with Opal and Dariax, so it was strange to actually have plans, plans that involved his boyfriend and meeting said boyfriend's family, especially. Sure, it was only a video call, but the thought of messing up in front of them, of accidentally outing his day job and them being horrified of what Orym had attached himself to, of fucking up so badly that his relationship with Orym irrevocably crumbled to pieces, weighed heavily on his mind in the days leading up to the video call. And he knew Orym could tell, was trying to soothe his fears with his soft words and kind eyes but until the video was over and done with, the anxiety refused to abate.

So on the eve of Winter’s Crest, they settled down on the living room floor with Orym’s laptop on the coffee table and while Dorian coordinated with someone named Lita to set up the video chat, Orym made them some warm drinks in order to help with Dorian’s nerves. Then the screen popped into life and Dorian found himself face-to-face with a half-elven woman, familiar in the sense he’d seen photos of her when she was younger in Orym’s photo album but new enough that his gut twisted in anxiety.

“I got ‘em!” Lita declared loudly.

Then the whole screen shifted as she picked up whatever it was she was using to call on, the image blurringly dizzy before settling again as Lita set the device down. He now found himself looking at a gaggle of unfamiliar women, the two sitting on the couch front and centre, one woman - Lita - sitting on the arm of the couch, the other two standing behind and leaning over to look and be in the frame. The triplets were fairly obvious to pick out, despite the distinctly different styles and haircuts, they all had the same face shape as their mother Nell. He could not tell who was who though, other than Nell who had grey streaks in her chocolate hair and Lita with her pixiecut. And then Orym’s Ma - Coral, her name was Coral Orym had told him - was the odd one out, a small halfling among all the half-elves.

“Orym, we’re set up!” He called back over his shoulder, trying to ignore all the curious looks they all gave him as they took him in.

Orym quickly hurried back over, passing Dorian his mug before sitting down beside him on the floor.

“Hey!” Orym greeted them cheerfully and all of them waved back in various greetings. “It’s great to see you all. Happy Winter’s Crest.”

There was a general reply of well-wishes back at them.

“How's the big city treating you, Or?” One of the triplets asked and Dorian glanced at Orym as he grinned.

“Pretty good. I imagine it’s not half as cold as it is back home, though, Bernie.”

Lita grinned wickedly and then piped up. “Betcha not as cold as you could be with that lug of a man ‘eh Orym.”

Dorian felt himself blush violet as Orym shook his head and scolded “Lita! At least save it for later when Ma and Nell don’t have to listen to it.”

“Well, I was about to say, are you going to introduce us, dear, or is the poor man going to sit there while you harass your sisters?” Nell asked with a laugh before nudging Coral, who was also giggling.

“Right…uh..” Orym was flushing now, turning to Dorian beside him for a moment before back to the screen. “So uh…this is Dorian, my boyfriend.”

Dorian waved a little awkwardly.

“Dorian! How tall are you?!” The last triplet butted in - Maeve.

Dorian looked at Orym, confused, who instead just face-palmed. “I’m six-one?”

“Told you he’d go for a tall one, Li.” Maeve cackled as Lita grumbled and vanished off-screen for a moment. When she returned she slapped something in Maeve’s hand.

“You guys were taking bets?!” Orym cried in outrage as Nell and Coral both shook their heads at the girl's antics.

“I didn’t, Orym,” Berenie said with a soft smile. “Regardless, we’re all happy for you Orym and Dorian, it’s lovely to finally put a face to the name. How did you guys meet?”

Dorian met Orym’s glance. They’d prepared for this.

“Through a mutual friend,” Dorian explained and Orym nodded. “She’s neighbours with Orym and then she and I run in the same circles of friends. She introduced us and I might have started flirting a little outrageously with your brother here from the get-go.”

“Took a little while before I accepted his advances, though.” Orym nudged him fondly with his shoulder and laughed. “Dorian was very…direct and I wasn’t exactly prepared for it.”

Berenie sighed dreamily as Lita snorted and said, “Yeah, 'cause you were how many years out of the dating pool? We were all shocked when Coral told us you were seeing someone.”

“Yes, but we are very happy for you,” Coral said fondly, her eyes locked on Orym. “And maybe next year you can come visit us in person and bring Dorian along.”

“If Dorian is agreeable, Ma, maybe we will.” Orym looked up at him with such a fond expression that Dorian felt himself melt on the spot a little. He caught himself before he could lean over and kiss Orym in front of his family. He cleared his throat and instead turned back to the screen.

“So Coral,” He rested his chin on his hands. “What was Orym like as a little kid?”

“Hey!” Orym protested even as the triplets burst into laughter.

Dorian turned on Orym. “You went on a lunch date with my brother; god knows what embarrassing stories he told you about me. This is fair play, darling.”

Orym blushed bright red as Dorian turned triumphantly back to Coral, who had joined in with the laughter.

“Well, I suppose I have one or two I could tell you.”

As it turned out, Coral had plenty of embarrassing stories of Orym’s youth, with added narration from Nell and the triplets. They often mentioned Will and Derrig in passing - Orym must have told them Dorian knew about them - but they focused mostly on Orym and all the trouble he’d gotten into even without Will. The conversation then shifted focus back to him, the women grilling him for information like Orym had warned him they would. But Dorian was prepared with appropriate answers - not really lies but half-truths that wouldn’t point to what Dorian really did as his day job yet were believable enough for this conversation. With their curiosity sated for now, they went back to talking pleasantries, catching up on each other's lives and giving Orym a hard time, as older sisters were wont to do, apparently. Eventually, the call winded down and Coral requested to talk to them for a bit longer on her own.

Lita passed Coral the device and helped her angle it so it was just her face in the video now, though Nell was still obviously sitting beside her.

“Dorian, I’m sorry, dear, but do you mind? I’d like a private word with my son.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Dorian picked up their empty mugs. “I’ll just go wash these and...preoccupy myself for a bit.”

He hauled himself to his feet and made his way over to the sink, listening out with half an ear as Orym addressed his mother.

“He’s a very handsome lad, Orym; seems very sweet too. You always did attract the sensitive boys. I just wanted to ask,-”

“Hang on a sec, Ma, Dorian’s got big ears.”

Orym said the last part a little louder than necessary. Dorian tsked and flicked on the water, effectively blocking out his ability to listen in as he washed out the mugs as quickly as he could. However, apparently, he still wasn’t quick enough, as by the time he’d shut the water off, Orym was laughing and joking with his mother about something he’d done as a child again. Sitting the mugs on the drying rack, he then returned to Orym’s side.

“It’s getting late there, so we’d better let you kids go.” Coral’s eyes glanced about the screen. “Lita, dear, how do I turn this thing off again?”

“Wait! Wait! Let us say goodbye to Orym first!” Lita called before the screen moved and they were able to see the whole group again.

“Love you all so much.” Orym blew kisses to all of them as they all said their goodbyes, until it was just Lita who picked up the device again.

“You break his heart, I break your knees, pretty boy,” She warned before smiling. “We love you, Orym. Bye!”

Then the screen went black. Dorian made sure the call had ended properly and even shut the laptop before he pounced on Orym, pinning him to the ground beneath him. Orym laughed as Dorian smothered him with kisses. Only once he was satisfied that his boyfriend was appropriately giggly, did he pull back and sit up again.

“Your sister wouldn’t really break my knees, would she?” Dorian asked casually as Orym righted himself.

“Lita? Oh uh…she might actually. She’s commander of the Tempest Blades and has always been a bit rough and tumble.” Orym raised an eyebrow. “But like, you don’t plan to break my heart, do you?”

“No!”

“Then don’t worry about it, sunshine. She wouldn’t do it just for fun after all.”

Dorian was unconvinced, though. However, it didn’t stop him from dragging Orym into bed to have his way with him, joking that the only thing on his Winter’s Crest wishlist was Orym and that third orgasm he’d been holding out on him. In the end, they only made it through one each, the mental and physical exhaustion creeping up on both of them. Orym passed out straight after, leaving Dorian to bask on his own for a moment longer, absently wondering what it would be like to meet Orym’s family in person and if he was serious about maybe taking him to meet them next Winter’s Crest. He couldn’t see any reason why not. By this point, he’d realised he was in this for the long haul and knew Orym was in the same boat and while there were a lot of feelings still left to be untangled, he trusted no one else to untangle them than Orym’s steadfast hands.

The next morning, Dorian woke to an empty bed and several new messages on his phone; a well-wishing text from Cyrus, to which he replied to warmly; a simple ‘Happy Winter’s Crest’ one from Dariax and finally, a message from Opal calling him whipped for spending the holidays with his boyfriend before also wishing him a happy winter’s crest. Once he’d cleared out his replies, Dorian padded out into the living room to find Orym fussing over the gifts, absently stacking the ones they’d gotten for each other on the coffee table with the kettle boiling and two mugs already out for them. As he stepped into the kitchen, he cleared his throat and Orym snapped attention to him instantly.

“Oh, good morning,” He greeted just as the kettle whistled.

When he moved to answer its call, Dorian waved him off and stepped over to make the drinks instead. He knew exactly how Orym took his tea, just like Orym knew how he liked his coffee. Drinks made, he wandered over to the couch to settle down, passing Orym his drink in the process.

“So I have two gifts for you,” Orym said, motioning between them. “And you probably want to start with this one.”

He placed the small square box, wrapped in gold ribbon, in Dorian’s palm with a smile. Dorian glanced at the other slightly larger wrapped gift before back to Orym.

“What if I wanna open the bigger one first?” He teased, even as he reached over to pluck one of his gifts for Orym off the coffee table.

“Let’s just say you might get a bit distracted by that one, so it’s better to get the others out of the way first.”

“Oooh, that sounds promising.” Dorian chuckled and passed Orym the first of his gifts. “However, I think you should open that one first.”

Orym looked down at the gift box cradled in his hands. “You sure?”

“I insist.”

Orym nodded, plucking the lid off the gift box and pulling out the necklace box within. He then used both thumbs to crack it open curiously. After a short pause, as he took in the necklace - a small sun pendant on a thin gold chain - Orym suddenly grinned and laughed. Dorian flushed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He’d never seen Orym wear any jewellery but perhaps that was because no one had ever given him any. He’d opted for something simple and subtle - something that would match Orym’s style but was also flashy enough that it was definitely a gift from Dorian. A gift from a boyfriend.

“Do you like it?” He asked hesitantly.

“I love it, thank you,” Orym said honestly as he held it up to the light and watched it sparkle a little. Then he seemed to realise what he’d said, the word that they’d been avoiding, and met Dorian’s gaze worriedly. Dorian tried to smile encouragingly but it just felt nervous and he knew Orym could tell.

“I’m glad.”

Orym cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “You should open yours now.”

Dorian nodded and eagerly untied the ribbon and dropped it aside - Orym protesting about littering again - before opening the box and peering inside. Resting on a little red cushion was a small golden crescent moon on a thin chain. He grinned. Now he knew why Orym had laughed and found himself chuckling as he raised it up to get a better look at it. It was small and delicate and caught the light as it shifted before Dorian caught it in his palm to hold it.

“We bought each other matching gifts.” He felt like he might weep. “Oh, Orym, I love it. Thank you.”

Before either of them could think too hard about his words, he shoved the necklace into Orym’s hands. “Here, help me put it on.”

He gathered up his hair and turned his back. Orym chuckled before shifting up behind him to affix the necklace in place. Dorian then dropped his hair and gently touched at the small moon which sat just in the hollow of his collarbones. His little moon.

“I figured you could wear that instead of having to hide a hickey all the time,” Orym explained when Dorian turned back to him. “It’s more permanent, too.”

Dorian chewed the inside of his cheek. “That’s really sweet. Thank you, Orym. Here, let me help you put yours on.”

He gently clipped Orym’s necklace into place then sat back to take in the effect of the small golden sun resting against his skin.

“Now you carry a piece of me with you always,” Dorian teased even as Orym smiled.

“I always do anyway.” He drew Dorian down into a sweet kiss that had the potential to turn filthy but Orym pulled away too quickly. “So, what’s my other gift?”

Dorian snorted and leant over to retrieve the other little parcel, which he plonked into Orym’s waiting hands. Orym pushed aside the wrapping paper to reveal the small box before pulling the lid off and looking in. Then he froze for a long moment. So long, in fact, that Dorian began to worry and gently prodded him with his finger.

“Orym?”

He started and looked up at Dorian wildly before back down in the box. Then he finally pulled out the small key ring with the shiny new key and elevator swipe, turning them over in his hands disbelievingly.

“You’re really giving me a key?” Orym asked, his voice thick with emotion.

“Yeah,” Dorian grinned. “I mean, you practically already live here, Orym; it makes sense you should be able to come and go as you please. We’ll have to figure out about the deadbolt though, maybe like a knock or something that lets me know it’s you but…yeah. It’s okay, right? I mean, you gave me your key.”

Orym sniffed and hurriedly rubbed at his eyes. “Yes, it’s okay. It’s more than okay, I’m just…a little overwhelmed. I know how hard this stuff is for you and this is…this is big. I’m honoured.”

“It’s…actually a lot easier with you than anyone else, really,” Dorian admitted, twisting his fingers together. “You make me feel very safe and I appreciate it.”

Orym nodded and carefully set aside all the packaging and the keys onto the coffee table before pulling the last gift into his lap and sighed.

“This feels a little odd now after all that.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to hold out on me, Orym,” Dorian pouted even as Orym chuckled.

“You know I can’t deny you anything…it’s just…this is a bit of a gift in a different vein than the others.” He hesitated for a moment, then handed it over. “You’ll see what I mean.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow at him before ripping open the paper. Instantly, he clocked what Orym had meant, absently running his hand across the soft fabric of the emerald green corset that lay on top of the rest of the lingerie. It was strange though; Orym knew he didn’t wear a lot of green because it clashed horribly with his skin. And then when he picked up the strappy top and held it up, another problem presented itself.

“Orym…this is the wrong size, darling.” He held it up against himself, confusion rippling through him.

“Is it, though?” Orym asked, swinging his leg off the side of the couch casually and Dorian finally noted that there was a blush tinting his cheeks.

Oh.

Realisation hit him like a truck and he felt his mouth go dry before suddenly grabbing all of it up and shoving it into Orym’s arms.

“On. Now.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me if you like it or not first?”

“Orym!”

Orym laughed and scooped everything up before flying off the couch, heading back to the bedroom. Dorian forced himself to wait until he heard the bedroom door close before he took a deep breath. Then he launched himself off the couch because eagerness took over. As much as he wanted to be patient, Orym seemed a little bit nervous if the blush was anything to go by, but also his boyfriend had bought himself lingerie to wear for him. However, he was forcing himself to respect the closed door even if it resulted in him pacing in front of it like a cat waiting for his next meal. Thankfully, before he could wear a hole in the carpet with his pacing, Orym called out that he could come in now. Of course Orym had heard him out there; he heard everything. It took all of his control not to just throw open the door, instead just opening it enough to slip in and stop dead at what he saw.

Orym had perched himself on the edge of the bed nervously, his face burning a deep crimson, clutching onto the sheets as if to keep himself in place. Dorian then let his eyes trail down over the emerald green straps that wrapped around his neck before wrapping down across his chest and under his arms. Around his waist was the meshed corset, not cinched from the look of it but comfortably sized for him. Across his hips were more straps to form the garter belt, holding up the soft stockings that covered his legs to mid thigh. And now Dorian had a proper look, that was definitely a thong covering his modesty.

He slammed the door shut without thinking, startling them both.

“Oops. Sorry…uh…” He pulled his hand away from the door and cautiously stepped over.

Orym watched him all the way and he knew the expression of anxiety better than anyone. But Orym had no need to be nervous. Dorian would never hurt him. But he was going to devour him. Slowly, he sank to his knees in front of him, parting Orym’s thighs gently so he could shuffle himself in between them. Then, with a sharp tug, he pulled the halfling forwards to the very edge of the bed, pressing them flush together and letting him feel the hard line of Orym’s stirring cock. Hesitantly, Orym gripped onto the front of Dorian’s dressing gown, holding himself upright against him. He swallowed heavily and bumped his forehead to Orym’s.

“Do you like it?” Orym whispered and Dorian couldn’t help the shudder that passed through him.

“Yes,” Dorian hissed as all the breath in his lungs forced its way out. “Gods, you look so fucking hot right now. I’m not sure where to put my mouth first.”

“I have an idea,” Orym murmured before cupping his face and bringing him down into a heated kiss.

Dorian groaned against his mouth and let his hands wander up and over Orym’s thighs and hips, following old paths he knew well, lightly trailing his nails across whatever skin he could reach before cradling the back of his head. He held Orym there for a long moment, ensuring he was properly out of breath when he pulled away and thusly distracted when Dorian shucked off his dressing gown. Orym reached for him at the same moment he moved back in, meeting him for another searing kiss before Dorian ventured southwards with his lips, leaving bruises in the gaps between lingerie pieces before he was properly resting on his haunches, face to face with Orym’s crotch.

“I was going to-”

Dorian cut him off by mouthing at his cock through the thin lace, coaxing Orym’s legs up onto each shoulder. Orym moaned and curled around his head, his thighs tensing and twitching. Dorian then nuzzled into the crease of Orym’s leg before looking up at him from under his lashes.

“What were you going to say, darling?”

Orym swallowed heavily and shivered, twisting a hand into Dorian’s hair. “I had planned to seduce you.”

Dorian chuckled softly and nipped at his hip. “Consider me very seduced right now, Orym. But I also have an unbearable need to have my mouth on you while you look like this. If I’m ruining what you had planned, by all means, stop me.”

“Nothing’s ruined, just adapting.” Orym gently pulled on his hair and Dorian groaned and let his eyes flutter shut. “I was going to ride you but that can always wait if you’re so desperate to suck me off.”

Dorian whimpered and Orym let up on his hair enough that he was able to bury his face back into his groin again. “Gunna make you feel so good. And if you want me to stop, you just have to say, okay?”

“Okay,” Orym agreed with a nod.

Dorian grinned and carefully worked his thumbs under the band of the thong, shimmying it down just enough that the head of Orym’s cock poked out the top. He winked up at Orym before wrapping his lips around it, lavishing the head with his tongue and causing Orym to curse and twitch. Slowly he inched the thong down lower and lower, revealing more and more of Orym’s cock, which he worked further into his mouth until his nose met pubic curls. Then he hollowed his cheeks and sucked as he pulled back causing Orym to howl, his hand fisting into Dorian’s hair. So he did it again, just for good measure.

It took a bit to coax Orym to let go of his hair so he could fully shift the thong down out of the way and duck his head under in order to have full unrestricted access to Orym’s lower half. However, once he had it, he abused it immediately by pinning Orym’s hips and swallowing his cock down to the root again, sucking hard and fast before bobbing his head and brandishing his tongue like a weapon, aiming for all of his weak spots. Orym swore and tensed his thighs around Dorian’s head as the rest of him trembled rapidly. If he wasn’t careful, his lovely boyfriend would come far too soon and he couldn’t have that. So he drew back off with a wet pop and smirked.

“Lay down, darling; I’m not done with you yet.”

Orym moaned softly but did as he was told, lying back against the sheets. Dorian blew a puff of cold air over his spit-soaked cock, watching both it and Orym jump a little before he chuckled and dove back in, mouthing at Orym’s balls. Against his back, he could feel Orym’s toes curling and as he sank a little lower, tracing his tongue along his perineum, he felt Orym tremble in anticipation. Knowing exactly what he wanted to do next, Dorian carefully grasped Orym under his thighs, pushing them up and folding him in half. He didn’t give Orym a second to think about it, licking a stripe over his hole before following it up by plunging his tongue in.

Above him, Orym suddenly choked on a gasp that quickly dissolved into the filthiest moan he’d ever heard him make, his thighs quivering under Dorian’s hands as he trailed them downward. Dorian took a moment to breathe, mainly for Orym’s sake, before spreading his cheeks wide and diving back in, chasing the places where Orym made the most noise. He seemed to particularly like it when Dorian nibbled at his perineum or pressed a finger teasingly against his hole while he fucked the tight ring of muscle open with his tongue. All the while, Orym babbled like a madman between encouraging noises.

“Dorian…oh gods…gods…Dorian…mh! Dorian!”

He loved it whenever he got the chance to fuck Orym stupid. He was always thinking, always planning, always ready for the next threat that would step between them. And Dorian knew from his own experience that it was exhausting to always be on guard like that. So it was nice that Orym trusted him enough to do this, to let Dorian suck out his brains through his dick, or in this case, his ass, and take the mental break it offered. It was also enjoyable for him, to not have to think about it, just put his mouth on him and follow the noises Orym made until he was cursing and trembling under his hand.

And then Orym came with no warning other than a broken cry and a tremble of thighs and Dorian was quick to release him, tucking his legs back over his shoulder and slithering up to view the mess Orym had made of himself. His boyfriend was bright red, attempting to cover his embarrassment but Dorian wrangled his hands back down to his sides so Orym had to look at him. Orym bit his lip and refused to meet his eye.

“Did you enjoy that, darling?” Dorian asked with a grin, still able to feel the spit glistening on his chin.

Slowly, Orym nodded, as if afraid of what he might say should he speak. Dorian didn’t mind, though. It was kind of nice to think he’d rendered Orym speechless just with a little rimming. Then he looked down and noticed the smear of come across his pretty new lingerie and softly tsked.

“Look at this mess though,” He commented dryly before proceeding to lean down and lap up every last drop with his tongue. It would still need to be washed afterwards, but hopefully, it wouldn’t stain. When he glanced back up, Orym was watching him with mingled arousal and mortification.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“I intend to.”

It took a bit of coordination in order to detangle the thong out from under the garter belt, especially considering Orym was still a little disoriented from orgasm. But they worked it out and the thong was discarded along with the rest of Dorian’s clothes. He then manhandled Orym into position, who laughed brightly and went with the flow of motion, allowing himself to be propped up on his hands and knees before Dorian draped himself along his back.

“This reminds me of our first time,” Dorian remarked fondly as he slid lube-slicked fingers across Orym’s hole and pressed in.

Orym gasped a little and wiggled back against them. “Mh, you were such a gentleman, fucking me on the floor of my studio.”

Dorian nipped at his ear before pressing his fingers in deeper. “You let me.”

“I did. Would have kissed you then too if you'd let me.”

Dorian hummed and curled his fingers, causing Orym to groan. “We got there in the end.”

“We did.”

Dorian replaced his fingers with his cock, biting down into the meat of Orym’s shoulder to suck a hickey into the skin, rocking their hips together until he’d bottomed out. There was nothing new about any of this - the position, the sex, them - but it still felt different, now he knew that the ache in his heart beat in time with Orym’s and that something, maybe everything, was changing. Despite that, he covered Orym’s hands with his own, tangling their fingers together tightly before snapping his hips forwards and setting a pace that had Orym panting and bouncing back against him with each thrust.

When Orym’s breath grew erratic, Dorian fisted a hand around his cock and sharply drew Orym over the edge again, feeling him shudder beneath him and his hole turn vice-like around his cock. He continued to fuck him through it before following after, coming with a low moan into his shoulder and trembling a little.

“Oh, Orym…” He murmured, pressing kisses down along his shoulders and spine. “So…so good for me.”

This would have been the perfect time to say it. To blurt out the words that caused his heart to ache so fondly and acutely. Orym was warm and pliable underneath him after an excellent orgasm. He’d offer no resistance, wouldn’t flinch back or shy away if he offered them willingly. Lovingly, as he intended to. But when he opened his mouth, he choked on them and then his doubts and fears dug their claws into the words and dragged them back, back into the safety of his heart. When they refused to return to his throat, he just pressed his head to Orym’s and screamed them over and over again in his mind, wondering if maybe he thought them loud enough Orym would hear him.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Dorian slid his hand up along Orym’s chest, touching at the cool metal of the little sun he’d given him and feeling it between his fingers. Part of him wished Orym would say them first, breaking the seal that they kept avoiding. But Orym was following his lead in this, he knew, and he had to be the one who said it first. And as much as he wanted to, he was still afraid; the words stuck in the space between his heart and his lungs. There, ready to be breathed into the world, but held back by his own fears and doubts.

“Dorian?”

Orym’s voice drew him back to reality, where he was still balls deep in his boyfriend.

“Just…coming down…sorry, I’m okay.”

“You don’t sound it.” Perceptive as always. “What do you need?”

I need you to know I love you.

“I need you in my lap, riding me like you promised.”

Orym chuckled and pressed his forehead to the sheets. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Dorian sat back on his haunches before stretching and cracking his spine. “Or instead, I could run us a warm bath and we wash off both us and these sheets.”

“I vote for a bath.” Orym carefully slid himself forwards off of Dorian’s cock and groaned softly before pushing himself upright with a little wobble. “I’m not going to be able to function today if we keep going like this.”

“Oh right, you’re meeting with some of your friends for dinner tonight, aren’t you?” Dorian carefully scooped Orym up bridal style and turned to head for the bathroom. The sheets could wait.

“Yeah and I’m going to have to find a tall turtleneck by the feel of it,” Orym grumbled a little, rubbing at his neck.

Dorian chuckled and perched Orym on the edge of the bath before leaning over to turn on the water.

“Well, you shouldn’t have been so damn sexy for me in this lingerie then and maybe I wouldn’t have bitten you so much.”

Orym snorted. “You would have nibbled on me anyway, sweetheart.”

“That’s your own fault for being so delicious,” Dorian giggled before stealing a kiss, and then another, until Orym was dragging him back in by the ears to kiss him properly and deeply.

Once the bath was filled, they slipped into it together, Orym comfortably settled between his legs with his back to him, washing off the sweat and stench of sex. Dorian, on the other hand, reclined back in the water, absently watching the ends of his hair float around in the small waves Orym made with his movements. Admittedly, he zoned out a little, staring off into space, making up wild scenarios about the best way to tell Orym those stupid three little words his heart and his voice choked on.

“Dor.”

He blinked and stared down at Orym who had turned slightly to look back at him, rubbing a thumb comfortingly over the crest of Dorian’s knee.

“What’s wrong? You’ve got that look in your eye that something is on your mind.”

Dorian sighed. “It just…it aches again.”

Orym tapped his own chest. “In here?”

“Yeah.”

“You know what the cure for that is?”

Dorian shook his head.

“Boyfriend cuddles.” Orym shuffled around and crawled up to plant himself in Dorian’s lap, pulling him in until they were curled tightly around each other. “This make it any better?”

“Yeah…a little.” He pressed his cheek into Orym’s shoulder. “I just…why are words so hard?”

“Because if they were easy, they wouldn’t hold meaning the way they do.”

Dorian groaned and pushed him back so they could face one another. “But why? Why won’t the words just come out the way I want them to? Why can’t I tell you just how important you are to me in a way you’ll understand? Why can’t I-”

He cut himself off and wrapped a hand around his throat. “Why do they get stuck here at the worst times?”

Gently, Orym pried Dorian’s hand away from his throat, bringing it to his lips instead.

“I already know how important I am to you, Dor. Maybe not with words but you’ve been showing me all along.” He smoothed his thumb across Dorian’s brow when it creased. “It’s in the pancakes you make Da’laysen mornings; it’s in the nights where you coax me back to sleep after a rough nightmare; it’s in the key ring and the necklace you gave me today. In meeting my friends, my family, letting me into your life and your home without remorse for who you are and letting me see the pieces of you that no one else ever has. I know you care about me, Dorian. I don’t need to hear it, I see it and feel it already every day.”

Dorian worried his lip between his teeth. “But what if I want to tell you? You deserve to be told. Every single day.”

Orym smiled and cupped his cheek. “I mean, I waited a long time for a kiss; I’m willing to wait just as long for words.”

He trembled and pressed his face into Orym’s hand for a moment, swallowing down the fear. “Ask me. Ask if I…you know.”

Orym blinked, confused for a brief moment, before it seemed to click and he flushed a little red and swallowed heavily. Dorian tugged him in until their foreheads met and they were breathing the same trembling air.

“Dorian…do you love me?” Orym whispered and Dorian felt a ripple running down his spine.

“...yes.”

Orym sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. Dorian chewed on his lip.

“Orym, do you…do you…love me?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation, but no further explanation. It left him no room to wonder about the finality of that answer. Orym loved him. Orym loved him. He pulled Orym back in, clutching tightly and smushing his face back into his shoulder. Orym loved him and someday soon he was going to be able to say it to him properly, so there would never be any doubt in his mind about how much Dorian loved him in return.

Chapter Text

May I hold you as you fall to sleep
When the world is closing in and you can't breathe
May I love you
May I be your shield
When no one can be found
May I lay you down

They slipped into the new year with little fuss. However, Orym was beginning to feel that Dorian wanted him to move in, but wasn’t outright stating it. It had started out as little hints here and there, like the way Dorian pouted every time he was about to leave. How he made him promise to come back as soon as he could. Then, after a few weeks of that, he went further and extended into dramatic lamentations about how big and empty the apartment was going to be and that in the cold weather, he was going to freeze without Orym to keep him warm. Orym told him just to turn up the heat if he was so cold. Dorian had pouted further and called him cruel.

Then he noticed that the deadbolt had moved from near the top of the door to closer to the handle, a more appropriate height for Orym to reach it. He also noted that a lot of Dorian’s kitchen wear - the cups, plates and cookware in particular - had moved to the lower shelves, where they were easier for him to reach. At first, he’d thought these things were just Dorian being considerate, seeing as Orym was here a lot more often, but now he realised they were intended to be an incentive. Especially when Dorian made a fuss over how he just couldn’t move anywhere else because he needed the extra bedroom for his office space.

And then Dorian picked a fight over his keys of all things. He’d left them on the counter with his phone for less than five minutes while he’d slipped into the bathroom to relieve himself, only for Dorian to then verbally attack him when he returned, telling him how dangerous it was to just leave things like that lying around and that there’d been a burglary less than a block from here and what if someone had broken in and stolen his keys.

“Why would they need the keys if they’re already in the apartment, Dor?”

“I don’t know! Maybe so they can come back and finish the job later?!”

It had been a bizarre conversation, to say the least, but afterwards, once he’d gotten over the absurdity of it, he remembered his chat with Cyrus and realised that perhaps it was Dorian’s way of telling him he was afraid. Or his own weird way of letting Orym know he wanted him to move in. Or at least ask to move in. That was what it felt like combined with all the other pieces of the puzzle. But it still didn’t feel appropriate to be the one asking, especially considering this was Dorian’s space, his sanctuary. Even if he had gone out of his way on multiple occasions to prioritise Orym’s comfort. Then again, he’d thought he was looking too deeply into things before and had ended up pinned to a pole in his studio - and then the floor - until he’d gotten the point. He wasn’t planning to miss another cue, and maybe he just needed to bite the bullet and ask. Dorian couldn’t get mad at him for just asking if it was a possibility, right?

After a week of hints being dropped like bricks at his feet, he finally approached the subject cautiously, as if it were a wild animal, on the rare night Dorian actually came over to his place for the evening. Dorian had spread himself across the couch with his head in Orym’s lap, the movie they hadn’t really been watching playing in the background as Dorain texted and Orym absently played with Dorian’s hair, trying to figure out how to start the conversation.

“So…I’ve been thinking,” Orym started hesitantly, watching as Dorian sent off another rapid-fire text.

“You’re always thinking, darling,” Dorian chuckled. His phone pinged again and he quickly replied once more before reaching over to place it on the coffee table. “But this sounds like a serious thinking conversation.”

Dorian rolled onto his back so he was looking up at Orym.

“It is…I just…haven’t known how to bring it up? I’m still not sure I even should be, whether it’s even my place to…”

Dorian tapped him on the nose. “Just tell me. Don’t think, just tell me.”

Orym swallowed. “The…uh…the lease for this place is coming due soon and I’m debating whether or not I stay.”

“Oh? And where would you go otherwise if not here?”

“I was wondering if…” He found himself absently fiddling with his little sun pendant. “If maybe you would consider the possibility of us…living together?”

Dorian considered it for a moment, though Orym could read right through the act. “You mean, you move in with me?”

“If that was something you would want. We don’t have to if it’s too fast or too soon, or-”

Dorian cut him off by surging up to kiss him eagerly. That was a good sign, at least. After a moment, he drew back with a grin and shuffled up to sit himself in Orym’s lap.

“Yes! Yes, yes, come live with me. It’s not the same without you there anymore and like you already have a key and stuff, so we don’t need to organise that, but we will need to figure out how to get all your stuff from here to my place - Oh! We can hire one of those trucks, right? Though the smaller stuff we can do with my car-”

“Dorian, slow down.” Orym grabbed his hands firmly. “My lease isn’t up till the end of this month, so we have time to plan and organise. Like I have to decide what’s happening with my furniture and stuff like that.”

“Sorry,” Dorian said flushing as he squeezed his hands. “I’m just…I’ve never had someone who I wanted to live with before or who was willing to live with me, so I’m…I’m excited. And maybe a little worried that you’ll regret it.”

“We already practically live in each other's pockets when we’re not with our friends, Dor. Living together isn’t going to change much. You already know all my bad habits and I know yours. I don’t regret it now and I won’t regret it in a month's time when we move in together. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Dorian grinned and leaned forward to steal a kiss. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry Dor, I’m excited too,” Orym reassured softly. “But we’re gunna take our time and plan it so it all goes smoothly, alright?”

“Alright.”

--

Things definitely started out smoothly. Orym was a skilled tactician and, as such, had everything about moving day planned down to a T. The van, the packed boxes, the extra hands to help - everything. He even had meals sorted for both of them so they wouldn't have to think about cooking while they were unpacking. Also in the week before the bigger things were to be moved, he asked Dorian to help him with bringing over some of the lighter and more delicate things, like all his picture frames and most of his clothes. So when Da'leysen rolled around, all Dorian had to do was wait for the first load to arrive, along with Orym and Ashton. It took several trips to bring everything up from street level, even with the hired help that came with the van. After that, they went back for the second load while Dorian began to sort the boxes into the different rooms where they would be unpacked later.

He was just starting to wonder where the next load was, when his phone went off, signalling a message.

After twenty minutes of no response to any of his messages, Dorian tried calling. First Orym, who understandably didn’t answer. Then he tried Ashton. Eight times he went through to voicemail and it took all his self-control not to spiral and just hang up and try again. At some point he’d ended up on the floor by the front door, half in his shoes, ready to just drive to the nearest hospital and hope for the best. Then finally, he got a reply.

He was going to kill Ashton. Still, at least that was something he could use. Shoes on enough that he could walk, he tore out the door, barely pausing to remember to lock it behind him. And if he maybe sped a little bit on the drive over to East General then no one could fault him, right? He even barely considered what he looked like - hair down and a wild mess in his rattiest clothes - as he barged into the emergency room, looking around wildly for either Ashton or Orym. Naturally Ashton, as big and green and purple as he was, was the first one he spotted and he ran over, ignoring the nurse who tried to approach him, his eyes trailing from Ashton to the wheelchair beside him.

“Orym!”

Orym’s eyes shot up and met his as Dorian ducked around a row of chairs and over to his side, hitting the ground on his knees. Instantly, he reached for Orym’s face, taking it in his hands. He was here and he was okay. Well not entirely okay; he was in a wheelchair and there were bruises already starting to form on his face and an ice pack wrapped around his ankle - but he wasn’t bleeding out in a bed or crushed into paste or-

“Dorian, what are you doing here?” Orym asked, covering his hands with his own.

“Ash texted me and told me they were taking you to the emergency room but didn’t tell me why and I thought you’d been in a car accident or-” He cut himself off by biting his lip.

Orym turned his gaze on Ashton and shook his head. “You are the worst at texting information to people.”

“He was gunna wonder where we were so I let him know. Then I had to carry your ass, so I couldn’t exactly answer his calls now, could I?”

“The worst, Ash.” Orym shook his head and sighed, looking back to Dorian. “I just fell down the stairs and rolled my ankle-”

“It wasn’t just some stairs, Orym, I watched you fall; it was a flight of stairs.” Ashton cut in and Dorian felt his jaw drop.

“I’m fine, though,” Orym said, coaxing Dorian’s attention back to him. “There’s nothing broken and they just said to keep off my ankle for a week or so and it’ll come good. I’m fine, sweetheart, promise.”

Dorian chewed the inside of his cheek. “Well I suppose it’s a good thing you’re moving in with me if you’re not going to be able to walk.”

“Didn’t say I couldn’t walk, just to stay off it.”

Dorian narrowed his eyes. “If you think I’m going to let you hobble around the apartment on a bad ankle, then you are wrong, Orym Ashari.”

“Oooh, full name; someone's in trouble.” Ashton grinned and easily stepped back to avoid the swipe Orym took at him.

“However, speaking of, we do need to get back to my place.” Orym slid Dorian’s hands from his face and into his lap. “The van driver has another gig at five pm and it’s already almost half past three. So Ashton-”

“I’ll head back to your place and rendezvous with FCG and finish packing the last of your shit, meanwhile…” Ashton caught Dorian’s gaze and there was a moment of understanding between them.

“Meanwhile, you, Orym,” Dorian said, turning his boyfriend’s face towards him. “Will be coming back with me to my place. Our place now, I guess, though.”

Orym’s eyes widened. “Wait, but-”

“Orym, there’s no point in you going back to your place; how would you get back up to your apartment anyway? The elevators busted, remember?” Dorian pointed out and continued before Orym could protest. “Ashton and FCG can handle the rest of the boxes and packing the van. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to carry anything. You need to rest baby, let us handle it from here.”

Orym frowned and then sighed heavily. “When did you start making so much sense?”

Dorian grinned and squeezed his hands. “Since I started listening to you. Now, are we clear to get out of here?”

“Yeah, we’re good to go.”

As Orym had refused point blank to be carried out like the way he’d been taken in, Ashton walked them out in order to return the wheelchair for them. Once Orym was safely in the car, Dorian then drove them back across town to his place - their place - with the halfling quiet in the passenger's seat. They pulled up in the underground parking garage and Orym only kicked up a mild fuss about Dorian insisting on carrying him from the car to the elevator, and then down the corridor back into the apartment. After safely depositing his boyfriend onto the couch and providing him with a couple of boxes for him to sort through and figure out what he wanted to go where, Dorian went back to what he’d originally been doing, which was making space for Orym’s things and moving boxes into the correct rooms.

Eventually, Ashton and FCG showed up with the second and final load and Dorian ventured down to help. After about the third time he attempted to get up off the couch to come and help, Orym was forced to sit and stay with FCG while Ashton and Dorian brought up the last of the stuff. He did still try to direct them, though, warning them what was in every box and what to be careful with. Dorian gently reminded him that they were all labelled and the delicate ones had fragile tape on them. Ashton told him to fuck up and sit tight.

But by the fourth trip down and back, Dorian could tell Orym was becoming a little frustrated, either with his situation, FCG or both. He supposed it made sense. Orym was not only a thinker but a doer. It was very rare to see Orym sitting still or doing nothing entirely. He was always moving, always in motion. But at least Dorian made him laugh when FCG started talking about RICE and his response was to go and fetch the bags of rice from the cupboard and offer them to the robot. Once Orym had stopped laughing, he managed to explain what FCG was talking about and seemed a little bit more relaxed after that.

Once everything was up from the van, Dorian cracked out the pre-made meals for the both of them and an extra one for Ashton. FCG had brought his own bolts and nuts and they ate together companionably. But it was still weird to have the two of them in his space. And as much as he wanted to be comfortable with Orym’s friends coming over to hang out, it was still something he was going to need time with. So once they’d all finished their meals and he’d put the dishes in the dishwasher, he promptly addressed the two helpers.

“As much as I would love to invite you two to stay longer…the thought of you doing so makes me so anxious I might throw up. I’m sorry.”

Ashton gave him a funny look. “That is the weirdest way to say you’re kicking us out so you can fuck your new live-in boyfriend I’ve ever heard.”

Orym choked on his sip of water.

“Ashton,” Dorian chastised as he patted Orym’s back gently. “We’ve had a huge day. The only thing going to happen when I hit that bed is sleep.”

“Yeah, after you’ve blown out his back-” Ashton laughed and dodged the pillow Orym hurled at him. Dorian just shook his head.

“It’s alright, Ashton and I should be heading home anyway; Milo will be wonderin’ where we got to after all,” FCG said before shooing Ashton towards the door. “Remember to stay off that ankle, Orym!”

“See ya guys!” Orym called back with a wave before Dorian followed them to the door to close and lock it behind them.

Then he took a deep breath and let himself fall forwards against it, gently knocking his forehead against the wood. As much as he liked Orym’s friends, they exhausted him beyond belief. And that was just two of them. What would happen when all of them came over? At least he supposed he could always just escape to his room for a breather if he needed it. They seemed to be nice tolerable folk from what he’d witnessed already.

“Are you okay, Dorian?” Orym asked from the couch. However, when Dorian turned, Orym was actually standing beside it, as if intending to walk over to him.

“FCG just reminded you not to stand on it!” Dorian reprimanded as he marched back over and scooped Orym up into his arms. “Good thing I was just about to take you to bed anyway.”

Orym chuckled and draped his arms around Dorian’s neck. “I knew sleep wasn’t going to be the first thing you did in bed.”

“Yes, well.” Dorian felt his ears burn as he walked them towards the bedroom. “Ashton doesn’t need to know about our sex life even if they are correctly guessing.”

“They’re only teasing Dor, means they like you.”

“I suppose that’s good news if I’ve endeared myself to your friend group,” Dorian chuckled before carefully placing Orym down on the edge of the bed and kneeling before him. “However, firstly, I had an idea earlier about something that might help you feel a little better about your ankle. Just give me a minute and I’ll go get it?”

Orym raised an eyebrow at him but nodded. Dorian grinned and hurried off, ducking into his office, taking a moment to suddenly realise that Orym had never actually been in there before and perhaps it was about time to remedy that, before grabbing the costume he’d been thinking of and getting dressed. It was stupid really, but Orym had cheered up so much with his mistake earlier about the rice that maybe this would also get him laughing. He hated seeing Orym so disheartened and if he could cheer him up by dressing up as a sexy nurse, then he was going to be a sexy nurse. Hat and all.

By the time he made it back to the bedroom, Orym had shuffled back to rest against the headboard and looked as though he was lightly dozing with his eyes closed. However, Dorian made sure to shut the door with enough of a noise that Orym started a little and looked up at him. Dorian watched as Orym’s eyes widened as he too in what he was wearing - a skimpy, tight nurse dress with fishnets and the little hat to match - before his cheeks suddenly turned red and he covered the lower half of his face with his hands.

“I heard the doctor put you on bed rest, so I came by just to make sure you were behaving yourself,” Dorian purred as he stepped into the room, making sure that his ass flashed out from under the mini skirt as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

That seemed to startle a laugh out of Orym before he buried his face further into his hands and groaned. “This isn’t fair.”

“I know,” Dorian hummed, reaching over to coax one of Orym’s hands away from his face and bringing it to his chest instead, resting his fingers over Orym’s wrist as if taking a pulse. “But I have to take your vitals just to make sure.”

Orym giggled - actually giggled like a schoolgirl with a crush - before shaking his head disbelievingly. “Gods, I lo-adore you.”

Dorian froze as Orym continued hurriedly, panicked.

“-I adore you. Adore. Just so much so. I adore you.”

But neither of them could pretend he hadn’t just been about to say what he’d just been about to say. What had been in the air for weeks between them since that day in the bathtub. But he couldn’t do it. Dorian couldn’t have the first time he said ‘I love you’ to Orym be while he was dressed up as a slutty nurse. That was not exactly the most romantic of times to profess your love. Especially not for the first time. But Orym had given him an out and an idea.

“Ladore? That’s a new one, darling.” As he spoke, he shifted up onto the bed proper, shuffling his way in between Orym’s legs. “Or maybe you mean Lavorre. She’s a legend in my line of work.”

“Dor.” Orym reached for his face with his free hand and Dorian took it to press a kiss to his palm and then the inside of his wrist.

“Hm, your heart rate and breathing are a little slow; I should fix that.” He winked, then suddenly tugged Orym onto his back by his legs before crowding over him to kiss him into the pillows.

Orym laughed brightly despite the kisses pressed upon him and tried to wiggle away but Dorian held him firm. At some interminable point in time, the sound of Orym’s laughter had become one of his favourite sounds - overtaking the whimper he made when Dorian found a particularly sensitive spot and just underneath the way he whispered ‘good morning sunshine’ in that sleepy tone to wake Dorian without fail, on the mornings they were together. And then Dorian’s heart suddenly did a funny little leap as he realised that would be every morning from now on. That thought had him properly set on kissing Orym senseless, or at least until he could pin his hips and trail his mouth over the hardening cock in his pants. From there, it was easy to convince Orym to strip them off along with the underwear, before he couldn’t help but grin a little as he hoisted Orym’s legs up onto his shoulders.

“Gotta keep these elevated, doctor's orders,” He teased, watching with delight as Orym somehow turned an even deeper shade of red before his head rolled back as Dorian swallowed him down to the root in one fell swoop. Couldn’t accidentally out himself if he didn’t have the capacity to talk. And if Orym noticed that, then he wasn’t complaining, as Dorian effectively and swiftly brought him to full hardness, swallowing down around the head of his cock. Orym trembled under his hands as he worked him up methodically, taking his time not only to enjoy it but tormenting Orym just a little until he was clutching the sheets and softly begging to come. So Dorian let him with a pleased hum as Orym arched back against the mattress and shook through it. Once he was satisfied he’d cleaned up the mess, Dorian crawled back up along Orym’s body to lay on top of him, pressing him down into the sheets like a weighted blanket.

“I ladore you, Orym,” He murmured cheekily, nosing under his ear as Orym huffed a laugh..

“That's going to be a thing now, isn’t it?” He asked as Dorian sat back on his elbows.

“I can’t help it, you’re cute when you’re flustered.” He cupped his cheek gently. “And that you just give me ammunition to annoy you with.”

Oym groaned and covered his face as Dorian laughed brightly.

--

Due to the nature of his injury, Orym had to cancel all of his classes for the following week and it was clear he was rather disappointed about it. Dorian knew how much Orym loved teaching and hated to miss classes where it could be avoided, but there was little that could be done in this instance. Orym appeared to only be further frustrated by the fact that he couldn’t really do anything either. Despite the fact that Dorian had tried his best to provide him with little things he could do - sitting on the couch and sorting through boxes, working on things on his laptop and making sure all the remotes were in reach so he didn’t have to move - he still found Orym trying to walk no less than six times in the first day of recovery alone. Each time he had an excuse - just wanting a glass of water, just wanting the box just over there - and each time Dorian picked him up and put him back on the couch. There were also a few times Dorian considered tying him to it in order to keep him there. And he, of all people, deeply understood the issue. The need to feel useful, the desire to work and be helpful, but he wouldn’t condone it at the risk of Orym injuring himself further.

The second and third days of recovery, Orym was a little quieter, though perhaps a little bit more irate than Dorian was used to with him. But that was understandable. And then, by the fourth day, Dorian was willing to let him at least try to walk with assistance and get him moving around, but still didn’t let him go far from him. By the sixth day, Orym was practically back to normal, though he still winced a little bit if he stepped on it wrong. The whole week, Dorian tried his best to keep up a positive mood, cracking jokes and poking fun where he could in order to keep Orym’s spirits up, seeing as it wasn’t the first week of living together either of them had envisioned. Though, their sex life certainly hadn’t suffered any, seeing as Dorian had plenty to say about it, even on the days when Orym was irritated with him. But, and maybe it was just him, Dorian felt like it brought them a little closer together - now that Orym knew and could trust that he would look after him no matter what happened.

With Orym back on his feet, literally, they returned to their normal lives and both went back to work. But not before Dorian strongly told Orym that he should take it easy while he was teaching and not irritate his ankle, less he wanted to be tied down. (Orym had then come home that night fake limping and Dorian had smacked him). Dorian was also pleased to find that having Orym living with him full time didn’t disrupt much about his schedules. Though he still found it a little awkward to do his boyfriend experience videos knowing Orym was in the building, it got easier with time. And if anything, he found that the on-demand sex was his favourite part. Any time Orym was home, he could just find him and rile him up to his heart's content, taking what he wanted there and then or leaving him wanting for later. However turnabout was fair play and Orym soon started doing it in return, usually when Dorian was least expecting it.

Eventually, Dorian worked up the courage to finally show Orym into his ‘office’, the room he’d carefully curated as part of BabyBlue. Orym had looked it over with an intrigued expression before joking that he already kind of knew what it looked like because he’d watched Dorian’s videos. Something about that had relieved the tightly wound spring in his chest and he’d laughed before stealing a kiss. Orym’s next concern was whether this meant he could finally check the windows in there as part of his nightly ritual. Dorian had given his blessing, though the first couple of times he’d anxiously trailed along behind him, unable to properly voice why the thought of Orym alone in that room made him terrified. After a solid week of Orym remaining nothing but respectful of the space, he felt comfortable enough to just let him go alone and wait for him in bed.

It was a comfortable, domestic bliss they’d settled into where Orym could come and go as he pleased and Dorian was safe and happy in the knowledge that he was always coming back to him every night. He had a key and they’d even devised a special knock just for Orym so that Dorian instantly knew it was him at the door if he’d left the deadbolt on - which he did whenever Orym wasn’t home. And it was the first time since leaving home that he had food in the pantry that wasn’t just snack food and was regularly getting fresh cooked meals most nights. And Orym had kept to his word, slowly teaching Dorian a few easy and quick meals that even he couldn’t fuck up. The first time he’d surprised Orym by making dinner - even though it had just been store-bought ravioli - he’d praised Dorian into a blushing mess before taking him to bed to show his appreciation for such a fine meal.

At some point during all this, and at first, he’d only been using it as a joke to tease Orym for his slip up, but ‘ladore’ had become an affectionate term that they used between them. It felt a lot safer than ‘love’, despite the fact that Dorian knew very well it was what they meant when they used it. And he did try, several times over the next few weeks, to let the words just fall out of him because Orym had been so patient with him, continued to be so, and he deserved to hear them. But every time he choked up or defaulted to the safer option and felt guilty about it afterwards. He had to be the one to say it first, knowing Orym was waiting for it, but every time he faltered out of fear.

Conthsen evening found Dorian settled on the couch with his laptop, scrolling through his emails absently while Orym cooked up something that smelled delicious. As he deleted a few things in order to clear out his inbox a bit - most of it spam from fans that was not worth the mental effort - when a new email popped up with a name he recognised. Dancing Lights. He sat up a little, intrigued and opened the email to scan the contents.

Dorian read the email over again for the third time, rubbing at his face thoughtfully. It was a decent opportunity and the Dancing Lights was a rather big and important nightclub, so he could imagine that the pay would be good. But it also meant leaving the house and putting himself in the public spotlight, something he had avoided regularly since he’d become popular. There wasn’t exactly a huge air genasi population in the city, so he was well aware of how much he stood out. He was really going to have to consider all the pros and cons of this before he made a decision and he only had until the end of the week to decide. This was going to be torture.

A hand touched his shoulder and he jumped so badly he nearly sent his laptop flying. He managed to catch it at the last second, shoving it back down into his lap safely before whirling around to look at Orym, who flinched back a little.

“You okay, sweetheart? I called your name like three times and you didn’t answer me.”

“Oh.” Dorian admittedly hadn’t heard him at all. “Sorry…I was just reading this…here.”

He lifted his laptop in order to show Orym the email, watching with fond amusement as his lips moved as he read. Then he pulled a face.

“I think you should do it.”

“What?”

Orym stood up straight and shrugged. “I think you should do it. It sounds like a good opportunity to promote yourself and they want to pay you for it. It’s also a nightclub and they’ll have better security than even here. You would be completely safe.”

“I mean, you’re right…but…”

“If you’re anxious about going alone, I could come with you.”

Dorian blinked up at him. “You would?”

“You make it sound like getting to watch my boyfriend charm an entire crowd with his voice is something I don’t wanna see,” Orym smirked and booped his nose. “Of course, I’d come with you. Besides, a few of my old students work at the Dancing Lights and I’m sure they wouldn’t expect you to come completely alone.”

He gently took Dorian’s hand in his own and brought it up to his lips.

“I promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and I intend to keep that promise.”

Dorian smiled and squeezed his hand. “I ladore you.”

Orym huffed a fond sigh. “Ladore you too.”

Chapter Text

Thought I had a heart of gold, everything I touch turns to stone
Is it my fault I always end up alone?
Maybe I'm just difficult, maybe I'm impossible
Maybe I'm just one step over the edge, you're one foot out the door
Maybe I'm emotional, too much to handle or
Maybe I'm unlovable

Despite the anxiety Dorian had originally had around attending the event, in the end, Orym couldn’t have been more proud of him for the way that he handled everything.

They’d arrived at the venue under instruction at the back entrance, where they wouldn’t be visible immediately to the public, and then hurriedly ushered inside to meet with Ms Striker - a blonde human woman with a clipboard and a don’t fuck with me attitude - who naturally wanted to know who Orym was and why he was here. Fortunately, he’d been correct and several of his past students were there and had immediately vouched for him alongside Dorian who showed her the videos he’d been making under Orym’s tutelage. After some promises to catch up after the show and saying a quick goodbye and good luck to Dorian, he was urged out onto the main floor, unable to stay backstage. But they at least gave him a nice view of the stage where Dorian would be and drink on the house.

All throughout the show, Orym kept a close eye on anyone who seemed to be paying particular attention to Dorian. Thankfully, though, anyone rowdy got very quickly evicted by security, so he didn’t have to worry about them vaulting up on stage and scaring the shit out of his boyfriend. However, from what Orym could tell, it looked as though there were more than a few people here purely because he was - several of the people in the VIP booths were practically drooling every time he came out on stage. Not that he blamed them. They’d allowed Dorian to pick the theme of the evening - Celestial - and so he’d gone all out with striking make-up, like a galaxy across his cheeks and matched it with silver jewellery that hung from his ears like stars. He’d ended up wearing a deep navy, sheer, star and moon-patterned chiffon robe, underneath which he’d worn Orym’s favourite gold lace set of lingerie. And somewhere around his neck with the other necklaces, was his little moon pendant.

Several times during the show, he noticed Dorian resting his hand at his throat as if reaching for it to comfort himself. Orym absently touched the matching one at his own throat in solidarity.

And then Dorian’s time slot was over and the crowd were on their feet, applauding and whistling. Orym joined them, though he doubted Dorian would be able to see him through the sea of people. He certainly couldn’t see Dorian any more. So taking the chance while people were distracted, Orym headed over to the backstage door again to be greeted by Ms. Striker, who motioned for him to follow her. After reuniting with Dorian, who was clearly holding himself back from running to him, Orym had a chance to quickly catch up with a few of his old students, who were very eager to chat. That is until Dorian interrupted them politely, reminding him it was late and they had to go. Only once Orym promised to drop by again soon for a proper catch-up, did he allow Dorian to drag him out the door and into the alleyway out the back that led to where the car was parked. Dorian’s patience only lasted until they were in the car before he pounced, kissing Orym within an inch of his life before drawing back.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Dorian asked with a flutter of eyelashes and Orym grinned.

“Yes. But I think I’ll enjoy the private one at home a lot more.”

--

Yulesen evening brought with it Dorian’s usual stream. Everything had started out normal; Orym had settled himself in their bedroom with the stream and chat open so he could watch it while he noodled his way through the new routine he wanted to debut with his Grissen morning class. Dorian had begun his act, today riding the Goliath dildo - and there was a part of him that was still amazed it fit all things considered - and was just ramping up the theatrics when the first message appeared.

Orym had never dropped anything faster to dive for the keyboard and kick the message sender, deleting the message from chat. He only hoped he was quick enough that Dorian didn’t notice it and after a few moments where he simply continued with his act, Orym thought he might have gotten away with it. Then someone else shared a link and though he was quick to kick them as well, suddenly the floodgates opened.

Orym tried his best to control the damage but he could only kick people so quickly and while there was a delay, it wasn’t enough that he could get rid of all the messages before Dorian’s stream caught up. Worse, he saw the moment Dorian caught sight of the messages he hadn’t gotten to and while it probably wasn’t obvious to anyone who didn’t know him like Orym did, he could read the fear that flashed across Dorian’s eyes before he wrangled his composure back into character.

“What are you guys talking about? There’s no one here but you and me.” Dorian ran his hands down along his thighs then back up, sinking back down a little further onto the dildo.

However, despite that, the messages didn’t stop - some begging him to bring Orym on camera and a couple threatening to beat the crap out of him for taking ‘their Blue’ - and even with him right there waiting for them, more than a few remarks still made it through to Dorian’s stream. Orym continued his damage control but it wasn’t enough to catch them all. Upon seeing them continuing, Dorian tutted in annoyance and stopped, holding himself halfway down on the dildo.

“If you guys can’t behave yourselves, I’m more than happy to stop the stream here. But you guys wouldn’t want me to do that, now would you?”

That seemed to placate most of the chat, though there were still a few who continued to carry on and Orym was able to single them out and boot them, leaving them with just the normal amount of weird horniness that usually accompanied Dorian’s streams. But he suddenly felt unable to sit still. Dorian was going to be stressed when he came out of that room, probably on the verge of a meltdown if he knew his boyfriend. So carefully scooping up his laptop, he snuck out and down the hall to the kitchen. While still monitoring the chat, he diced up some fruit into a bowl with a little bit of yogurt and arranged some of the cut meat and cheeses he had on a small plate. Then, just as stealthily, he carried it all down into the bathroom, still glancing at the chat on his open laptop before arranging the food on the over-the-bath tray thing Dorian had. Then he sat down on the edge of the bath and waited for the stream to finish.

“Thanks for coming.” He heard through the wall before it echoed over the stream in front of him and then the end card popped up.

Orym closed down the webpage, set his laptop down on top of the towels on the shelving unit and waited till he heard the sound of Dorian opening the door of his office. Then he turned on the water, loudly, signalling to Dorian where he was. Not even a few seconds later, Dorian appeared in the open doorway, still half naked and covered in cum and lube, his eyes falling on Orym, then the small offering of food beside him and the bath he’d already started to run. His lip trembled a little before he suddenly swept across the room, kneeling down before Orym to wrap his arms around him tightly and bury his face into his chest.

“How did they know?” Dorian sobbed as Orym hugged him back tightly. “How did they know your name?”

“I don’t know,” Orym dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “Someone said something about the dancing lights and then someone else shared an article. I didn’t even think to check it out. I just kicked them, hoping it wouldn’t snowball, but it did. I’m so sorry, Dorian.”

Dorian pulled back to look up at him. “What are you sorry for? I’m sure you did everything you could. I’m the one who should be sorry. They’re going to harass you now, I just know it.”

“I’m more worried about you.” Orym took his face into his hands. “You just got harassed right then on stream!”

Dorian shook his head. “I’m fine, I’m used to it by now, Orym. It’s literally my job to take it. After all, I’m just a cute twink getting ruined for their pleasure, so they’re always going to have a lot of opinions about what they’d like to do to me. I just…what bothers me is how this is going to affect you and your classes. That’s your livelihood, Orym, and if I damaged that, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

“I’ll be fine, Dorian; it’s not the first time I’ve been associated with strippers or pornstars. I’m a pole instructor, it kind of comes with the territory.”

Dorian sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “We weren’t prepared for this were we?”

“No,” Orym leaned over to press a kiss to his forehead. “But we’re not going to let it stop us, okay? We have to carry on and just keep our eyes and ears open.”

Dorian nodded weakly for a moment before his head snapped up. “Ears. Opal. She’ll already be all over this mess, she is constantly on all of those dumb gossip sites. I need to check my phone!”

Before Orym could protest that he was still filthy, Dorian had made a mad dash for the bedroom to retrieve his phone. He returned moments later, tapping away hurriedly.

“I was right, she’s already sent me a link to the article.”

He turned the phone around to show Orym. The photo at the header was a bit blurry but Dorian was still very identifiable and Orym’s face was in full view as they looked at one another, car doors open as they were about to get in.

“Someone was waiting for us in the parking lot, or saw us walking across it and recognised you.” Orym felt his hands curl into fists. “I fucking hate gossip blogs, they do nothing but cause everyone problems.”

Dorian turned the phone back to himself and scrolled down, eyes scanning and reading the article. “After a thrilling performance hosting at the Dancing Lights, the popular pornstar known as BabyBlue apparently decided to take home one of their fans. So Yu Can Know have determined that the handsome halfling he was seen leaving with is none other than Orym - @HalfingTwunk on OnlyHeroes - a pole and fitness instructor. Could he be the choreographer behind Blue’s latest and greatest videos where he showed off his newest pole skills? Or maybe BabyBlue has gone naughty for teacher? When we reached out to BabyBlue they had no comment on their relationship with Mr Ashari- This is bad. This is really, really bad.”

Orym placed a hand on his arm. “Okay so, they guessed we might be involved but nothing is confirmed. It’s still just gossip and now we know what to look out for. I’ll talk to Fearne, she’s had plenty of scandals and gossip pieces written about her; she’ll be able to help us figure out our next steps. But for now, I think you should get in the bath, eat your snack and calm down a little, okay?”

Dorian looked down at him forlornly. “What would I do without you?”

"You wouldn't be in this mess for a start," Orym murmured more to himself as he coaxed Dorian out of his lingerie and into the bathtub. "I'll make a start on dinner and ring Fearne. We'll figure this out, Dorian, I promise."

--

It only went downhill from there. Despite Fearne's advice - which was for Dorian to stay home for a bit and Orym to keep a low profile as much as he could - and her help setting up filtering on Dorian’s chat for his streams - which meant anyone who mentioned Orym’s name or the article was instantly kicked - things still took a turn for worst. He’d been in the middle of a class too, his Folsen evening regulars who were very understanding about his unwillingness to talk about the article and were very respectful thankfully, when his phone started blowing up with messages and calls. Normally he wasn’t one to answer things like that, but everyone was willing to take a quick break in order for him to at least check. However, after seeing about eight missed calls from Fearne alone and at least two from Ashton and Laudna, he knew something was up.

Then Fearne called again.

“Orym!” He’d never heard her so panicked before. “Orym, Dorian’s not answering his phone!”

“Maybe he’s asleep, Fearne?”

“No! Orym listen, that gossip columnist wrote another article! They did an exclusive interview with one of Dorian’s exes and-”

She was cut off as Laudna and Imogen suddenly came barrelling into the lobby where he was standing. Both of them were mildly out of breath and he’d barely opened his mouth to ask what was wrong before Launda shoved her phone into his free hand and he caught sight of the article title - A Candid Interview with Exes, the real truth of BabyBlue - and swore.

“It’s real bad, Orym,” Imogen said as Orym passed back the phone. “The guy wouldn’t give his name but there’s a bunch of pictures and enough evidence he really does know him. And he says some really terrible things about-”

Orym held up a finger and put his phone back up to his ear. “I gotta go, Fearnie. Send me a link to the article.” Once she’d confirmed she would he hung up and rubbed at his face before turning to poke his head back into the studio.

“Sorry guys, we’ve got to call it there for today, family emergency and I’ve got to go, stat.” There was a murmuring of concern before all of his students went ducking for their bags to get changed and collect their things and Orym shut the door before turning back to Imogen and Laudna. “Where’s Ash and FCG?”

“When we couldn’t get a hold of either of you, they went over to check on him while we came here to pick you up,” Launda explained before they all stepped to the side as his students filed out. “I told Ashton to call me when they arrived.”

“Good. Okay. Let me lock up and we’ll go.”

Once he’d made sure the studio was locked up tight, they jumped in the car, Imogen driving, and started the journey across town. In the meantime, seeing as he couldn’t do much beyond sit there with his leg jiggling in mild panic and concern, Orym opened up the article Fearne had sent him and started scanning through. The so-called ex had asked to remain anonymous - that didn’t matter Orym would find him anyway - and scanned through the photos which had blurred out the exes face but left Dorian’s in full view. Imogen was right, this guy had clearly known Dorian at one point, possibly around the time just before he’d become a pornstar, if he was remembering their early conversations right. After a couple of photos, the article started with the Q&A and he skipped over the little introduction bit and dove straight into the questions.

Orym had to look away, feeling sick to his stomach. A quick scroll down revealed that the interview continued on for at least six more questions, each slightly worse than the last until finally-

Ashton chose that moment to call Laudna. He could tell by the ringtone - ‘I Wanna Rock’ by Twisted Sister - and Laudna immediately passed the phone over to Orym in the backseat who answered with a sharp, crisp, “Ash.”

“Your boys not answering the door, we’ve been knocking for ten minutes. Grass has tried to call him like five times to let him know it’s us at the door, no sign of him.”

“Shit.” Orym rubbed at his face roughly. He highly doubted Dorian would do anything drastic, but if he wasn’t answering that didn’t ring good. “We’re almost there, maybe he’ll answer for me.”

As soon as the wheels touched the curb, Orym was out of it, bolting for the lobby with Laudna and Imogen hot on his heels. Though the elevator ride took less than a minute as they rocketed up to the eighth floor, it was enough time for the panic to truly settle in his heart and he bolted around the corner to see Ashton and FCG standing outside his door.

“Still no answer, Grass reckons he can hear his phone going off in there but no one picking up,” Ashton reported as they joined them.

“Here let me try,” Orym clicked open the lock and pushed on the door, only for it to hold steady. “The fucking deadbolt.”

He knocked his knock, the rhythmic taps they’d come up with in order for Dorian to know it was him without question. He waited for a long moment, straining to listen for any sound of shuffling or movement before he called out.

“Dorian? Sweetheart, it’s me. Open the door, love, please.”

No response. Orym bit his lip and turned to Ashton.

“Kick it down.”

Ashton raised his hands. “What?”

“The door. Kick it down, Ash. I think I know where he might be.”

Ashton gave him a long hard look before motioning for them all to get back. Orym would happily field any complaints the neighbours made about the noise as Ashton aimed right for the lock and kicked hard. It took more than a few blows before the deadbolt gave way - and in a weird way that was at least comforting to know when he had to replace it - before Ashton shoved the door open enough that Orym was able to slip through first. The apartment was dark, the lights all out and that didn’t bode well. Still, he had an inkling of suspicion where Dorian was and hurriedly turned his attention to the bathroom, the door pulled over to only allow a sliver of light through. He hip and shouldered it open, half afraid Dorian might have blocked it, but it opened easily and slammed against the opposite wall.

The bath was overflowing with the tap still on, the water dripping down the sides, across the floor and out into the corridor - if he hadn't been wearing shoes he would have noticed how damp the carpet was - but Dorian was nowhere in sight until he got closer, practically standing over the bath. Laying down in the water, face covered by his hands and still, was Dorian. If he hadn't known his boyfriend didn’t need to breathe, he might have been more worried. Instead, he hurriedly turned off the taps to stop the water flow before reaching into the water, not caring as he got wet, grabbing Dorian around the wrists and hauling him upright. As his head broke the surface, Dorian’s hands fell away from his face and his eyes snapped open, settling instantly on Orym. Then tears welled up and he broke down, throwing his arms around him and Orym hugged him back just as fiercely, burying his hand into Dorian's hair.

"I gotcha, baby, I gotcha," He murmured as Dorian sobbed into his chest.

"Orym?" Imogen's voice called from the direction of the kitchen.

"Yeah, we're in here!" He sang back before giving Dorian a squeeze. “Can you ask Laud’s to make some tea, please? We’re going to need it.”

It was half an endeavour in order to coax Dorian not only to drain the bath but to then climb out of it and get dressed appropriately for the mixed company that was in the apartment. By the time Orym had him reasonable, Dorian was even more exhausted and Orym had to walk beside him the whole way out to the couch where he just immediately proceeded to drag Orym into his lap and curled around him. Laudna then delivered cups of tea and it took another whole amount of effort to get Dorian to take it from him and have a few sips. He was still shaking something terrible and Orym ended up having to cover Dorian’s hands with his own in order to keep him from spilling it. Meanwhile, Ashton and FCG had tasked themselves with cleaning the mess in the bathroom and Imogen fielded the door and the curious neighbour who’d heard the commotion. Imogen had just sent them on their way when a familiar voice rang out from the corridor and Orym felt Dorian’s head jerk up in response.

“Out of my way lavender!” Opal demanded as she attempted to shove past Imogen who was holding steady in the doorway.

“I’m sorry but who the hell are you?” She demanded as Opal sneered.

“It’s okay, Imogen,” Orym said as he slipped from Dorian’s lap but stayed close. “They’re Dorian’s friends, it’s okay.”

Imogen cast Opal one last scathing look before she stepped aside and let them pass. Dariax trailed in behind Opal as she made a beeline for Dorian on the couch, half tackling him back into it when he started to rise to meet her. Orym took another step back out of the way of flailing limbs as Dorian hugged her back tightly.

“I’m going to fucking end their pathetic career after this, you fucking mark my words, Dorian.” Opal hissed as she settled back into the couch, still holding onto Dorian.

Orym took the chance to slip away into the kitchen and motioned for Dariax to join him. As Laudna hummed over the dishes, Orym pulled out his phone.

“The ex who did this, you know his name?”

“Yeah, I can tell by the pictures in the article.” Dariax gave him a knowing look. “But, if I tell you what are you going to do?”

“I’m somewhere between taking him to court for defamation of character and breaking his knees. I haven’t decided yet, maybe I will when I calm down.”

Orym offered out his phone and after a moment Dariax sighed, took it and typed in a name before passing it back.

“I couldn’t tell you where he lives or anything-”

“That’s fine. Chetney can find anyone in this city,” Orym said as he sent the name through to him before looking back up at Dorian and Opal on the couch. “Dorian can’t stay here tonight, doors busted and the bathroom and hallway are a mess.”

“Fearne’s place is pretty safe from memory, or he can come camp with us like old times.” Dariax paused. “But what about you?”

“I gotta make some calls, organise some things. I can’t let this stand.” Orym sighed heavily. “Take him to Fearne’s for me? Stay with him, keep him company. I don’t want him to have to listen to me make a bunch of calls about him, it’ll just make him more anxious.”

“Can do.” Dariax followed Orym’s gaze over to the couch. “He’s not going to like you leaving him though.”

“No. I don’t like it either but it’ll make things easier just for now.”

--

While he knew they didn’t mean to treat him like a child, it certainly felt like it when Opal and Dariax shuffled him into a coat and then out onto the street to catch a cab across town to Fearne’s place. It was bad enough that this article would no doubt tank his reputation so far his career probably wouldn’t survive it - and he’d been prepared for that eventuality but maybe not this soon or like this - but had also brought with it a whole new host of anxieties that he couldn’t even focus on right now because he’d just found out that Orym wasn’t coming with him to Fearne’s.

“I’ll come join you later tonight, sweetheart,” Orym had promised when Dorian had dropped to his knees to hold him close. “I’ve got to sort out everything here, organise to get the door fixed and the carpet mopped up among other things. Go spend time with your friends and I’ll be around before you know it.”

Fearne had then greeted the three of them at the door with boisterous enthusiasm that didn’t suit the subdued mood they were in. Or at least that Dorian was in. Opal was still fuming and every so often would whip out her phone and begin texting in a fury before stuffing it back away with a huff. Even Dariax was a little quieter than usual, but still trying to keep up the conversation with Fearne and including Dorian, but every time he turned to him, his words just felt flat. Dorian hated this, hated everything about this. He wouldn’t have minded if it was just his reputation on the line - they could drag him through the mud for all he cared - but they’d brought Orym into it. Orym who never asked for any of this and yet here they were speculating about their relationship like it was headline news that a pornstar had a fucking relationship. And out of all his exes to come forth it had to have been him. Half the reason he’d decided to stay single for so long.

Slowly, one by one his friends ventured off to various bedrooms to catch some sleep, trying to coax Dorian to do the same but the shame spiral had started and he had no intention to move from the couch until Orym returned. If he returned at all. Dorian wouldn’t have blamed him if this had all been a ploy to separate them so he could run far away from Dorian. Maybe he really was everything they’d said about him. Manipulative. Emotionally deficient. Neglectful. An attention whore with nothing to offer the world but his fucking ass. But the little logical part of his brain, the part that sounded more and more like Orym every day, told him that if truly he was like that none of these people would have come running to make sure he was alright. And then the self-doubt kicked in again and he hid his face into his knees. The Hells had definitely not come running for him. They were probably worried about Orym and that was it. He sank his fingers into his hair and pulled sharply, letting the pain distract him for as long as the sting lasted.

“You’ll go bald by thirty if you keep pulling your hair like that.”

Dorian jerked up, barely smothering his scream of terror as he found Chetney practically inches from him, watching him with a sneer. He hadn’t heard him come in at all. Had he even knocked? Had he even made a sound until that moment he’d spoken?

“Chetney…what…?” He still wasn’t entirely sure where he stood with the older gnomish man, walking on uncertain eggshells. He knew Orym was important to Chet and that he definitely had at least three wood chisels on him at all times ready to threaten Dorian at a moment's notice. However, today seemed to be a day he was in the woodworker's good books as he simply proceeded to sniff and then plant himself in the adjacent armchair.

“Orym’s on his way,” Chet reported, pulling out a hunk of wood and a chisel to work while he spoke. “Had to make a stop off before he came here so you both had clothes for the morning.”

Dorian rubbed at his eyes. “He always thinks of everything.”

“Hmm.” The soft rhythmic glide of the tool against wood was soothing and Dorian found himself settling back against the couch just to listen as Chetney continued. “I haven’t read the article myself but…your ex seems like a real piece of work.”

“He is.” Dorian’s hands found the little crescent moon at his throat. “I never would have thought he’d do something like this though. But I suppose it tracks. He was really upset when I started getting popular on OnlyHeroes.”

“Thought you were prioritising work?”

“Maybe I was.” Dorian sighed and absently he tangled his fingers into the chain of his necklace, staring off into space. “I really thought I loved him too, you know, which is the worst part because I don’t think he loved me. I think he loved the idea of me. But love doesn’t pin you down and strike you unless it asks politely first.”

He huffed a laugh at his own poor attempt at a joke and turned to look at Chetney. The old gnome's hands had paused mid-stroke, the curl of the wood grain a perfect circle.

“What?” Dorian asked as Chetney just stared at him for a long moment.

“...Did this guy hit you?”

Dorian blinked. His brain took a moment to reboot before he realised that yes he had just said that to Chetney of all people. He opened his mouth like he could take it back, but all that came out for a moment was a panicked choked noise. Chetney continued to stare.

“No,” Dorian said once his voice returned to him, waving him off hurriedly. “It’s just like a metaphor, you know? Like how love bites and all that?”

Chetney narrowed his gaze. “You’re a bad liar kid.”

Dorian swallowed. Chetney continued to stare. He broke first.

“Okay, so…maybe I am. Maybe he did. But you don’t know the circumstances and I fully deserved it with the way I behaved and honestly, the fact that Orym hasn’t done similar considering half of the horrible shit I’ve said to him-”

Chetney’s chisel suddenly dug itself into the coffee table as he slammed it down hard. Dorian jumped and curled even further into himself as Chet turned on him.

“Orym would never hit you,” Chetney hissed, his hand still clenched tight around the handle of the chisel. “Because there is never a good reason for someone to beat their partner. You’re supposed to care for them and cherish them.”

Chetney huffed. “Sounds like your better off without this fucker. He never should have hit you.”

“He never should have done a lot of things…” Dorian muttered mostly to himself then accidentally caught Chetney’s look of confusion. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Chet insisted.

Dorian shook his head. “I don’t wanna talk about it. And furthering that, you can’t tell Orym about any of this. He’s got enough on his plate about this situation already. I don’t want to make it worse.”

Chetney looked him up and down for a long moment. “Fine. Not like I care anyway.”

Chapter Text

If I lay here, if I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
I don't quite know, how to say
How I feel
Those three words, are said too much
They're not enough

“And you’re sure that’s what he said?” Orym clarified for the nth time.

“I’m telling you, Orym, this fucker did something to Dorian beyond just the regular beating. He was real cagey about it too. Said he deserved it and everything.”

“Fuck.” Orym rubbed his eyes roughly.

Chetney was far from the most likely of his friends to show up unannounced at his studio on any given day and the fact that he’d done so between classes to talk to Orym privately about this was telling. The old man was worried and that meant bad news.

“Were you able to track him down in the end?” Orym asked and Chetney nodded, pulling out a piece of paper with an address on it and handing it to him. “Great. Can’t wait to serve this fucker his words back to him. This Jasper will regret the day he messed with Bell’s Hells.”

“How's the kid holding up?” Chet asked as Orym tucked away the note into his bag.

“Better now we’re back at home again. He wasn’t sleeping well while we stayed at Fearnie’s,” Orym sighed heavily then chuckled. “I did manage to convince him to get one of those deadbolts that have a lock on the outside as well so we don’t run into the problem with the door again. He’s still paranoid, though, about people recognising him from the article and now knowing where we live but that’s not going to make this go away. I’ve tried to get him to consider looking at finding a new place but he’s…hesitant. This whole thing’s been hard on him.”

“And on you too.” Chetney fondly cuffed him around the ear. “You two should consider a vacation until this blows over.”

“Look, Chet, I’m trying but Dorian’s always been a homebody. Getting him to go anywhere currently is worse than pulling teeth. I can’t even get him to come down here to the studio to practise and blow off steam. He's so terrified right now. He’s not even streaming at the moment. He put out a statement and everything about the recent articles written about us.”

Orym dug out his phone and pulled up his notes, where he had the draft copy written and showed it to Chetney.

As you are by now well aware, a certain gossip column has published a series of articles speculating about my involvement with a fellow OnlyHeroes content creator and also anonymously interviewed an ex-boyfriend of mine for an “inside scoop” which was nothing but a pure fabrication of my person, forcing me to make this public statement.

The ex-boyfriend in question and I did date for a period of eight months a few years ago, around the time I launched into popularity on this platform. However, as for the rest of the contents of the article, it is nothing but slander of me and what I stand for, designed to make him look good and to get back at me for how I apparently wronged him in the time we were together.

In light of these recent attacks on my personal character, I am taking a short two-week break to recuperate and will be back very soon with more content.

-BabyBlue

Chetney read the message out loud as his eyes scanned downward. “And how’s he handling not working?”

“Badly.” Orym tucked his phone away. “I don’t think he’s taken a break his whole career so he’s just lost. He’s deep-cleaned the apartment about twice already, rearranged all of the cupboards, closets and even restructured the living room and his office. It’s been four days. He just doesn’t know what to do with himself and yet I can’t convince him to get out of the house.”

“You sure you don’t want me to sneak into this fucker’s place and trash it?” Chetney asked as there was a knock on the door to the studio. His afternoon class had started to arrive.

“Honestly, Chet, this ex-boyfriend is the least of my problems right now.”

--

After classes were finished for the day, Orym arrived home with the mail in tow. Despite his sabbatical, Dorian was still receiving mail from his fans, most of which had actually been rather supportive of the whole shitshow and, as weird as it was to think, it was comforting to know that not everyone believed the gossip. Though there were still more and more comments showing up on his videos every day of people wanting to know just how involved with Dorian he was. Thankfully, he’d never really been one to respond to a lot of comments - mainly due to his previous inability to figure out how - and so it wasn’t strange that he was ignoring them now.

As he opened the door - making sure he’d knocked their knock so Dorian knew it was him - Orym was hit with the smell of dinner and the soft absent humming of his boyfriend. He’d never been happier than now that Dorian had wanted to take up cooking, even if it was only ever simple things. At least it was something he could do to help occupy himself in the evenings when Orym knew his mind ran even more rampant than during the day. Kicking the door shut behind him, he dumped the pile of packages on the side table, flicked off his shoes and allowed himself to be swept up into Dorian’s arms as he came over to greet him.

“I’m making chicken and pasta,” Dorian announced once he’d kissed his fill of Orym and put him back on his feet. “Also a little bit of salad, 'cause we have leftovers from the one I made last night.”

“Sounds good. I brought you the mail if you want to open it while we eat.”

Dorian nodded then shooed Orym over onto the couch so he could dish up their respective servings of dinner. Comfortable together on the couch, Dorian picked at his meal - he still wasn’t eating properly and it worried Orym to no end - before starting to work his way through his fan mail. Most of it was fairly standard; jewellery, lingerie and a couple of love letters. However, the last envelope sent Orym’s blood cold. Dorian drew it out slowly, confusion knitted across his brow as he angled the letter so Orym could see it too. It looked as if all the letters had been cut out of different magazines and newspapers and then stuck down on the page to form one coherent sentence.

I WoUld bE a beTteR BoyfRieNd tHan HiM baBy bLue

Dorian dropped the letter as if it had suddenly burned him and turned to Orym, alarmed.

“Shit.” Orym sighed, putting his half-eaten dinner aside to pick it back up. “Shit, Dorian this is…”

Dorian shook his head. “It’s not the first message like this and it won’t be the last but fuck’s sake. Creep.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Orym placed a hand over Dorian’s and squeezed. “Why don’t I run you a bath? We’ll put those nice-smelling oils and stuff in it and I can brush your hair and help you relax?”

“I should be doing all of that for you!” Dorian cried, cupping his face. “You’ve been at work all day and your muscles are probably all stiff and sore. I could rub them better for you. I could rub all of you better if you let me.”

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Orym blurted out a laugh. “You’re a menace.”

“Only for you.” Dorian stole a peck of a kiss, then scooped up the creepy message and scrunched it up in his hands before moving over to the bin to toss it in. “You wanna bring those plates over? I’m done eating.”

“Na, I think I’ll leave them here to get mouldy,” Orym joked, even as he stood and picked them up as requested.

Dorian snorted a laugh. “Gods, you’re lucky I love you so much or I’d-”

Dorian cut himself off with a choking sound as Orym froze as the words registered in his brain. Then he realised Dorian was staring at him and he was staring back. Time seemed to just ooze in the seconds or minutes or hours they just stared at one another, the silence that had fallen between them only broken by the pounding of his heart in his ears and the sharp breath he’d drawn in. Dorian’s hands floated aimlessly at his sides, like he was halfway torn between running or throwing something to distract him and then running. Orym clutched tighter to the plates in each hand, willing himself back into his body.

“...Say it again?” Orym requested softly and Dorian moved his mouth wordlessly for a moment, clearly trying to refind his voice.

“...I love you.” He finally repeated, hesitantly and Orym felt a shiver pass down the entirety of his spine.

“Again?” Orym asked as he took a step towards Dorian.

“I love you.”

“Once more?” Another step.

Dorian huffed fondly. “I love you, Orym Ashari. I think you’re supposed to say it back now though.”

“I love you, Dorian Storm.” He said without hesitation, shoving the plates up onto the counter and coaxing his boyfriend down to kneel in front of him so he could take his face into his hands. “I love you so much. I love you more than you’ll ever be able to comprehend.”

Dorian chuckled, a few stray tears suddenly dripping down his cheeks before he pulled Orym in to kiss him firmly. It was only when Orym was struggling for breath that Dorian finally pulled back, raking a hand through Orym’s short crop of hair before dragging him back in for more short, peppered kisses.

“Take me to bed, Orym,” Dorian whispered between breaths. “Make love to me. I want nothing but you on my mind and making a mess of me.”

Orym laughed brightly and shivered. “As my lover commands.”

In their rush to the bedroom, Dorian nearly tripped over him twice, causing them both to descend into fits of giggles. Then Orym was standing on the edge of the bed, pulling Dorian in by his shirt, their lips colliding as Dorian’s hands splayed wide across his hips and up along his back, drawing him in even closer. Slowly, eventually, after languid kisses between which they breathed whispered 'I love you's', Orym dragged Dorian down onto the bed with him, stripping off every layer of clothing his hands touched until there was nothing but a wide expanse of blue skin before him. Dorian, however, would not let him touch him any further until he was equally naked, tossing Orym's clothes haphazardly off between kisses and bouts of laughter, like when Orym's head got stuck in his t-shirt as Dorian wrenched it off him, or when Dorian was once more faced with his dancer's belt and got his long-awaited chance to rip it off.

They were both long past the point of being shy about nakedness around one another, Dorian draping his body atop Orym's til they were a stretch of blues and browns pressed against their sheets in their bed and Dorian was kissing him like they had all the time in the world. Only now Orym had the added bonus of whispering his love as much as he wanted, pressing the words into Dorian's skin with his lips and his hands as they wandered. Dorian was caught in between fond laughter and soft noises of appreciation as Orym nosed against his neck and let his hands deftly find all the spots that made him sing. And maybe someday his songbird would actually sing for him, like in the video saved on his phone from Cyrus, where Dorian was crooning a love song that he definitely hadn’t pretended was for him. But maybe it had been and he hadn't been ready then to say the words, like he was now as he kissed them into his mouth and nipped at his lips.

“Orym,” Dorian whined as he rolled out onto his back. "You should come here.”

Orym chuckled as he pushed himself up on his elbows. “You want me in your lap?”

“I want you on top.” Dorian flushed a little violet. “I want you to open me up and take me.”

“Oh.” He felt himself flush at that. “Are…are you sure?”

“Yes…just…”

“We’ll take it slow,” Orym promised, brushing a thumb across Dorian’s cheek. “Your pace. If it feels like too much, we’ll stop, okay?”

Dorian’s lip trembled just a little. “Okay.”

Orym carefully rearranged Dorian comfortably back against the pillows, making sure he was propped up a bit so he wasn’t flat out on his back and could watch what Orym was doing at all times. Once he’d retrieved the lube and a towel, he settled himself between Dorian’s parted thighs and rested his hands on Dorian’s hips. Under his hands, Dorian trembled slightly and Orym absently drew soothing circles with his thumbs.

“I love you,” Orym reminded gently, watching as Dorian shivered. “Can I kiss you?”

Dorian nodded, reaching out to cup Orym’s face in his hands. It was a fair stretch for Orym, even when he shuffled all the way forward so their hips were snugly slotted together and Dorian curved over to meet with him. But it was worth it for the way Dorian melted into the kiss before parting his lips and sucking on Orym’s tongue. After a moment, he drew back but only so far as to trail kisses up along Orym’s jaw and nip at his ear lobe, curling his hand around to cup the back of his head.

“Mark me,” Dorian murmured against his ear. “Wanna be claimed completely by you.”

Orym cursed softly. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve never been more sure of anything.” Dorian nuzzled him gently. “I’m on a break so no one else is ever going to see them; it’s just for us. And tomorrow when you’re at work, I’ll have all these lovely reminders of tonight.”

Orym let out a soft breath, then tilted his head to briefly steal a kiss. “Where do you want them?”

“Everywhere. I want them everywhere, Orym.”

“Okay, sweetheart, I got you.” Orym coaxed him back and followed after, moving to straddle his waist instead in order to reach his neck. He brought Dorian’s hands to his chest, pressing them flat.

“If you want me to stop at any point, put your hands here like this and push and I’ll move away.”

Dorian nodded in understanding. “And what if I want you to keep going?”

There was a hesitant waver in his voice as Dorian looked up at him hovering over him, which threatened to break Orym’s heart.

“Then keep telling me you love me.”

Dorian bit his lip and slid his hands up along Orym’s chest, then back up to hold his head and drag him down into another kiss. Orym lingered only for a few moments before moving down to kiss his neck, coaxing his head back. He started just under Dorian’s jawline, nibbling lightly, teasingly, before biting down properly and rolling the skin between his teeth. Dorian groaned a low rumble of his name, followed by a soft ‘I love you’ that coaxed him to keep sucking until he was confident it would bruise nicely. Then Orym drifted across to the other side of Dorian’s neck and worked another mark to the soft appreciative noises the genasi made. He was still trembling but with each new hickey Orym made, it lessened and shifted into gasps, moans and a hand raking into the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

He littered Dorian’s chest with as many bruises as he pleased, chasing the low, contented hum his love made each time. And when he ran out of space up there, he travelled further down and marked up the inside of his thighs as well, soothing each sting with a kiss afterwards. By the time he was thoroughly finished with his work, Dorian was blushing violet and achingly hard and seemed to have worked through whatever nerves he’d had previously.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” Dorian asked, looking up at Orym from under his lashes alluringly.

“Patience, sweetheart, gotta open you up first.”

Orym was trying his best to be romantic about it, taking it slow to open Dorian up one finger at a time; however, his boyfriend was clearly eager to continue with the main show. He rocked against Orym’s hand and pouted deeply each time Orym removed his fingers to add more lube before he pressed back in with another until he had him stretched open around three. That was when Dorian started with the soft begging, pleading that he was ready. Eventually, with a fond chuckle, Orym finally gave him what he wanted, slowly pressing his cock into the tight ring of muscle, watching Dorian’s face for any flicker of pain. But there was none - just a soft sigh and shifting of his hips in order to wrap his legs around Orym’s waist and coax him in closer. And as eager as he was to sink into the welcome heat of Dorian’s body, the last thing Orym wanted was to hurt him, so despite Dorian’s urging, he took it slowly, letting him adjust as he fucked into him.

It all seemed to be going rather well, Orym resting his hands on Dorian’s hips and holding him in place to thrust into him, working him open until he’d bottomed out and they could sit comfortably for a moment while they adjusted. And then he leant over, intending to see if he couldn’t find some more space between the constellations of bruises on his chest, when he felt Dorian practically seize up underneath him and he stopped dead, craning his head up to look at him.

“Sorry, sorry,” Dorian apologised softly, his voice thick with emotions that Orym didn’t have a chance to comprehend as Dorian quickly reworked his expression into lustful interest but Orym wasn’t buying it.

“We can swap if it’s too much,” He reassured but Dorian shook his head.

“No. I want to. I want this.”

“Dor, you have nothing to prove to me. I love you regardless.”

“I just don’t want to be what they say!” Dorian suddenly blurted out before looking away. “I don’t want you to think that I won’t…”

Orym sighed softly and ran his hands soothingly down along Dorian’s thighs. “There is not a single thing in that article that I believed. I know you, Dorian Storm. I know the man you are in here.”

He purposely poked one of the bruises he’d written into his skin. Dorian's expression trembled for a moment, then crumbled and he covered his face with his hands.

"I'm sorry," Dorian mumbled, the words muffled by his hands.

"What are you sorry for?" Orym cooed softly, gently trying to coax his hands away from his face.

"I don't want to neglect your needs…"

"Neglect my-?" Orym laughed despite himself. "Dorian, sweetheart, I would have said something by now if I felt neglected by you. I know we had some rough growing pains but I'd like to think by now you would know I'm not afraid to speak my mind about things."

Dorian made a pitiful whine of a noise in the back of his throat. "I just….worry."

"I know, baby. But trust me, if I had issues with our relationship, you would be the first one to know, not the tabloids."

Dorian took a deep, shuddering breath, one that Orym could feel under his palms as he slid them up along Dorian’s chest.

"I love you, Dorian Storm; so don't you forget it."

Dorian chuckled softly and finally brought his hands down off his face instead to hold Orym's.

"I love you too. It's nice to finally be able to say it and not feel nervous about it."

Orym hummed and soothed his thumbs over Dorian's hips.

"We can stop here if you want, I don't-"

"Don't you dare think about removing your cock, Orym Ashari," Dorian said, catching him by the back of the head to hold him in place. "I still want to do this. For me, though, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Orym pressed a kiss to his chest. "You ready?"

Dorian nodded and slowly Orym began to draw out, scattering kisses across his chest until only the head of his cock remained inside. Then he thrust back in sharply, punching a shattering moan out of Dorian. It was still a little too performative for his taste, however, so he settled his hands on Dorian's hips and sat back upright, instead rolling their hips together in a slow, agonisingly arousing grind against one another. Stimulating but not enough.

"What are you doing?" Dorian asked with a soft gasp as Orym dragged his hands down his legs to hitch them higher around his waist.

"Getting you out of your head."

He continued to roll against him like waves lapping against the shore until they were both so hard and keyed up that it hurt. Until Dorian was baring his neck unthinkingly, softly cursing and rocking his hips, squeezing his legs tight around Orym's waist as if that would make him go any faster.

"Orym, please," Dorian whined softly. "Please. Want you."

"You got me," Orym teased, chuckling when Dorian screwed up his nose in annoyance. “I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“Orym, I swear,” Dorian huffed and Orym rewarded him with a sudden, sharp thrust, causing him to gasp. “Please.”

Orym cursed softly, gathering up Dorian's legs and hips in his hands as much as he could before setting a brutal pace, finally fucking into him like they both had wanted from the start. The teasing seemed to have worked a charm, though, with Dorian cursing up a storm under him, arching back against the sheets and seeming to have momentarily forgotten the thoughts that had been plaguing him - the worries and the concerns. Orym didn’t dare assume he knew the full extent of the truth, the reasons behind Dorian’s hesitance with being on his back like this. But he could speculate and form conclusions, connections between the timing of this, the article and the resurgence of this ex-boyfriend from the woodwork. He could spend the rest of his life trying to unwind all the mysteries of Dorian Storm and would never get to the bottom of them. But that was okay; he would love him regardless.

Unthinkingly, Orym wrapped his hand around Dorian’s neglected cock, trying to match rhythm with the snap of his hips but that turned out to be difficult to maintain with only one hand holding Dorian’s hips up. So Dorian batted him away and took himself in hand, working himself up quickly and efficiently, so when Orym asked him sweetly if he would like to come, he did so on the spot with a guttural groan that sent Orym tumbling after him with a moan and collapsing down against his chest. They both took a long moment to catch their breath, more so Orym than Dorian, whose breath had hardly even hitched. But it was a peaceful, serene moment where, despite the come he could feel slowly drying between them and the heavy sweat of good sex, it was nice just being warm and comfortable against him.

However, when he went to sit up, Dorian surprised him by catching him by the back of his head and pulling him back down on top of him, smushing his face back into his chest and holding him there.

“Dor?” Orym asked, a little confused, as Dorian gently combed his fingers through his hair.

“...he’s the reason I don’t like being on my back. The ex who did that article.” Dorian sniffed softly, but when Orym tried to move his head to look up at him, Dorian’s hand held him gently but firmly. “I don’t know what I did to set him off but…he just kind of…snapped. We were…like this and he just…pinned me down and…beat the crap outta me…”

Dorian sniffled a little louder, like he was wiping his face. “I didn’t want to tell you because you’ve got enough on your plate as is but…I suppose it’s better you hear it from me than second-hand or just jumbled through the gossip vine.”

Orym let out a slow breath, mostly just trying to keep himself calm as his mind raced. As much as a part of him was screaming to go and find this guy and kick his ass, the logical part of him soothed that over quickly, reminding him first and foremost that he had a boyfriend to reassure and settle.

“Can I move now?” Orym asked softly and after a moment, Dorian moved his hand so he could raise his head.

Dorian’s eyes were lined with tears and as Orym caught his gaze, he looked away, wiping at them roughly. “Sorry.”

Slowly, measuring each movement he took, Orym shuffled up to straddle Dorian’s waist and reached out to cup his face, wiping away tears with his thumbs.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Orym assured. “Thank you for telling me, honestly. I know how hard it is for you and I appreciate it.”

Dorian swallowed heavily. “I don’t think I really knew what love was until you. Love doesn’t…doesn’t hit you or scream at you or…or…”

“Here, sit up a bit, Dor,” Orym coaxed, shuffling back so Dorian could readjust and sit up a bit more against the headboard and Orym could properly lean into him, bringing him into a tight hold and pressing their foreheads together. “Tell me what love is, then.”

“It’s…” Dorian considered his words for a long moment, absently placing his hands on Orym’s shoulders and rubbing his thumbs up and down along the muscles, tracing them. “It’s cooked meals in my freezer and…and house keys given freely with trust and getting along with my brother and my friends and…and it’s just…you. Everything you do for me is born of love, from the smallest gestures to situations like this where you’ve handled everything while I just shut down.”

Orym covered one of Dorian’s hands with his own. “You needed time to recover and that’s okay. Besides, that's what a partner does, Dorian. I promised to protect you and so I’m gunna do it. But if I could suggest one thing, maybe?”

“Yeah?”

“Please talk to someone.” Orym watched Dorian’s brows knitted together. “A professional. Someone with experience who can talk you through everything you’re thinking and feeling. I can only do so much and I worry that I’ll do more damage than good.”

Dorian blinked at him for a moment before he nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll…I’ll try. For you, I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” Orym pressed a kiss to his forehead and then drew him in for a tight embrace. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Dorian absently rocked them side to side for a moment and then paused. “Orym?”

“Yeah?”

“Tomorrow night after your classes…can we invite everyone over for a movie night? Like Bell’s Hells everyone and Opal and Dariax?”

Orym pulled back to look at his boyfriend and smiled. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll see what everyone on my end is up to.”

“I wanna thank them all for…well…everything.”

“They care about you, you know.” Orym tucked back a lock of Dorian’s hair behind his ear then sighed softly. “And Dorian, no matter what happens in the coming weeks, as we sort through this mess, I just want you to remember that we all care about you. That no matter what, we’re with you; especially me, okay?”

“Okay.” Dorian squeezed him gently. “Thank you.”

Orym drew him in to press another soft kiss to his forehead. They would make it through this together, that he was sure of.

--

Chapter Text

You ruined everything good
Always said you were misunderstood
Made all my moments your own
Just fucking leave me alone

It wasn’t unusual for a client not to show up for a class. Orym understood how it got sometimes with life and how sometimes people just forgot, especially for a first session. So after half an hour of a no-show and no response to his reminder, he locked up the studio and made his way to the post office to pick up their mail before heading home. It was just as he got to the elevator in the lobby that his phone went off and a glance at the number told him it was the client. So he answered.

“Orym speaking.”

“Hi, Orym, it’s Todd. Sorry for missing the session, I got out late from work.”

“That’s fine; life happens so I completely understand.” He stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the eighth floor. “So what would you like to do? We can reschedule for this week or stick with the same day next week instead?”

“Same day next week works for me; I’ll make sure to get out on time.”

“If you do end up running late, just text me to let me know and we’ll work it out, I’m happy to work to your schedule.” Orym hopped out of the elevator and turned the corner for home, readjusting his bags as he went.

“You’re amazing; thank you so much, that sounds great! See you then!”

“No worries, we’ll talk more next week. Bye.”

Orym hung up the phone and knocked his pattern on the door before unlocking both the deadbolt and the lock. He shuffled his way in with a heavy sigh. It was a bit annoying having to travel all the way across town and back for one class that never showed up, but sometimes that was how things went. On a better note, Dorian was sitting on the couch with his laptop and upon noticing Orym entering, he looked over and grinned brightly.

“Hello, my love,” He greeted as Orym discarded his bag by the edge of the couch and plonked himself down beside him, curling under Dorian’s offered arm. “That bad of a session, huh?”

“Guy never showed up; he just rang me then to apologise and we’re going to try again next week.”

Dorian pulled a face. “I hate it when they don’t bother cancelling on you.”

“Some people just forget. I’m used to it.” Orym looked down at the screen of the laptop. “Whatcha working on?”

“Oh, just some little videos I filmed as teasers today. Gotta get people hyped for my return after all.”

Orym snorted a little. “You still have like a whole week left to go, Dor.”

“Exactly! So I have like two days to work on these so they can be out before Folsen where I drop the stream announcement for Yulesen and then-”

“You’re still on break until Miresen, though?” Orym cut in, looking up at Dorian with a raised brow.

“Well, no one is going to complain if I start a little bit earlier than expected, are they?” Dorian knotted his fingers together. “Besides, you and I both know I’m not making it to Miresen without posting or streaming something. I’ve been driving both of us crazy this past week alone.”

“You always drive me crazy, though,” Orym teased, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Crazy in love, that is.”

Dorian chuckled. “You’re such a dork; why do I love you?”

“‘Cause I let you pound me into the mattress on a semi-regular basis.” Orym reached over, plucked up his bag and tossed it open. “Also brought in the mail, you wanna open your gifts?”

“Ooh!” Dorian quickly set aside his laptop so Orym could present him with a few letters and small parcels from his bag. Dorian immediately opened the parcels first, inspecting the various offerings of jewellery and make-up while Orym flicked through the letters, sorting them into bills and fanmail. Orym started with the bills - the arguably smaller pile - before turning in time to watch Dorain open his fanmail letters. As he opened one of the envelopes, pulling out the contents, a second, smaller envelope suddenly tumbled out into his lap. Dorian, visibly confused, set aside the actual letter and shared a look with Orym before he picked up the smaller envelope and flipped it over. One glance at the other side was enough for Dorian to grimace deeply and show it to Orym. On the front of the envelope was Orym’s name, cut and pasted in letters from the newspaper. Just like the note Dorian had received the other week. Dorian passed it to him with a look of concern.

“It’s just a letter, Dor; it’s not going to explode,” Orym assured before popping the flap and pulling out the contents. The letter inside was the same deal, a bizarre arrangement of cut and pasted letters with another haunting message.

stAy aWay FrOm mY bAby BLue

Orym flipped the note over to check the back before screwing it up into a ball in his hands along with the envelope.

“By any chance, is that letter handwritten?” Orym asked and Dorian flicked it open to look.

“No, it’s typed and printed. It’s pretty stock-standard crazy love confession stuff though. ‘I’d be a better boyfriend who would defend your honour against those who have besmirched your good name’. Blah, blah, blah.” Dorian suddenly snorted a laugh and continued to giggle through his next words. “‘And would make sure you were properly satisfied the way a half-sized cock could never.’ Holy shit, do these guys read over what they write before they send it?”

Orym chuckled. “I doubt it. Though I suppose that attests to how good of an actor you are if they think I top you all the time.”

Dorian laughed and tossed the letter aside in favour of pulling Orym into his lap. “You can top me whenever you want. I just happen to know you prefer to be my bratty bottom ‘cause you’re a size queen.”

“Hey!”

“Prove me wrong.” Dorian smirked and Orym pouted a little. “Speaking of defending my honour, though, how did it go with the courts the other day?”

Orym nodded and rubbed at his eyes. “As far as I’m aware, everything is in order and they should both be served with the lawsuits this week, but god, it was a headache sorting them out. I owe your brother something nice for Winter’s Crest this year.”

He tried very hard not to think about Cyrus’ quip of wanting a brother-in-law he could trust to look out for Dorian. They were far from that conversation yet. They hadn’t even been dating for a year and while, yes, their timeline of a relationship had been weirdly skewed from the start, and as his mother had so kindly reminded him at Winter’s crest, he was also known to be eager and rush into things when it came to his heart; he didn’t want to ruin this with Dorian. And while he was confident about their ability to last, given everything they’d been through together already, it still felt like it was too soon to bring up the topic of rings and weddings and marriage. For now, he was happy and settled comfortably in the idea of boyfriends and the knowledge that they would be long-term no matter what. Everything else could fall into place after when they were ready.

“That’s good, then. I’m glad you decided on the non-violence route in the end.”

Orym curled up a corner of his lip and held Dorian’s face between his hands. “I am a little concerned about the timing of everything, though; the articles, the lawsuits and now these letters.”

“I really don’t think that it’s all connected, Orym.” Dorian squeezed his hips. “I’ve had a lot of clients over the past couple of years who have been banned because of issues. I wouldn’t be surprised if this note sender was one of them. Sometimes these people can’t separate the fantasy from the reality that they are paying me for a service to be provided and seem to believe that I owe them my time and effort outside that when that’s not how it works.”

Orym nodded. “I just…worry about you.”

“I know. But I’ve got deadbolts, this apartment with a doorman, friends on speedial and I’ve got you. I couldn’t be safer.”

--

After a week with no new threatening messages addressed to either of them, they both let their guards back down a little. Just enough to relax and return to their normal lives. Or as normal as their lives got. Then, late Yulesen evening after Dorian had already sunk into his after-stream bath, Orym answered the door dressed in only his comfy pyjamas and was surprised to find two police officers waiting patiently on the other side.

“Can I help you, officers?” Orym asked, looking between them curiously.

“We’re looking for a Mr. Orym Ashari and a Mr. Dorian Storm.”

“I’m Orym Ashari. Can I ask what this is in relation to?”

The officers glanced at each other. “We’d like to confirm that Mr Storm is home as well before we continue.”

Orym raised an eyebrow. “Okay. I’ll go get him.”

He hurried along to the bathroom and didn’t even bother with knocking, just opened it in time to watch Dorian rising from the water and towelling off.

“We’ve got a situation.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Two cops are at the door and they want to ask us questions. So get your robe on and let’s go, they wouldn’t tell me why they’re here without you.”

Dorian, despite being visibly alarmed and confused, wrapped his robe around himself and hurriedly followed Orym back to the door, where the officers were still waiting.

“Mr. Dorian Storm?” One of them asked as they approached and Dorian clutched his robe a little tighter to himself.

“Yes?”

“We’d just like to confirm your whereabouts this evening between seven-fifty pm and eight-thirty pm.”

Dorian’s brows knitted together in confusion. “I was…I was here? I haven’t left the house all day. Besides, I stream between eight pm and nine-thirty every Yulesen.”

“Do you have proof that one of these streams took place this evening?”

“I mean, I have the vod of the stream with time stamps, if that helps?”

“Please.”

Dorian, still looking extremely confused, ducked off to go and collect his laptop as the officers turned on Orym.

“And you, could you please confirm your whereabouts this evening?”

“I was here as well. I monitor the chat on Dorian's stream.” Orym shrugged a little. “But if you don’t believe us, there's a camera in the lobby downstairs and if you ask Rupert the doorman, he’ll let you see the feed. I’m sure he’ll also be happy to confirm that neither of us has left the building at all today.”

Before they could respond, Dorian shuffled back in, tapping away at his laptop before he turned it around to show them the vod with the live chat replay. Orym had to admit that it was very amusing to watch as their eyes widened with abject confusion and shock. Dorian had taken the stream in a different direction to celebrate his return and had decided to show off his unending breath and throat control by going down on various-sized dildos without flinching or gagging.

“So, with the messages, you can see the time stamps of when they were posted and then this one here, HalflingTwunk, is Orym’s username and he’s got a little M next to his name because he moderates the chat for me, so I can just do my thing and…and are you alright?” Dorian paused in his pointing out of details to look at one of the officers, who was a bit flushed in the face.

“I’m fine. This is…a solid alibi but we will be checking in with Rupert downstairs on our way out.”

Orym held up a hand. “You still haven’t told us what this is in regards to?”

The offices shared another look. “A victim identified you two as potential perpetrators of a break-in and we were just following up on the leads. We’ll speak to Rupert and then if we have further questions, we’ll be in touch. Good evening.”

“Good evening,” Orym replied automatically before he shut the door and turned to Dorian, who looked just as confused as he felt.

“I think…someone broke into Yu’s offices tonight,” Orym mused, mostly to himself as he scratched his chin.

Dorian’s eyes widened. “But why blame us though?”

“We have an active lawsuit against them; they might have thought we were trying to get a leg up on them?” He sighed. “Either way, the evidence is on our side so I wouldn’t worry, Dor. They do have to follow up every lead and with everything that’s gone on between us and Yu, it would make sense to check us out even if we have no reason to break in. But Rupert will set them straight.”

Dorian nodded, then set aside his laptop. “Pretty lucky that this happened when we were both home.”

“Yeah. Pretty lucky.”

--

After seeing Orym off in the morning and double-checking that he was really gone, Dorian quickly scrambled to pick up his phone and call Cyrus. He’d ruled out talking to any of the Hell’s about this, just on the off chance it got back to Orym, And both Opal and Dariax were out as well. Not because he didn’t trust them but because he needed someone who was going to be brutally honest with him and not just egg him on. And while Cyrus was an idiot at the best of times, he would at least be honest with him. It took only three rings before his brother picked up, sounding a little groggy.

“Bron?” Cyrus yawned loudly and Dorian held the phone away from his ear for a moment. “What's up?”

“Sorry, did I wake you? I just…didn't know who else to call and talk about this to.” Dorian raked a hand back through his hair, listening to the sounds of his brother shuffling, probably to sit upright.

“What's going on?”

“Okay so…next week is technically a year since Orym and I started dating, as in the day I kinda asked him out even if we didn't really call each other boyfriends until like…two or so months later. But anyway, I'm really stuck on this one idea of what I want to get him and I don't know if it’s a good one or if I'm maybe just overthinking it, which I do tend to do-”

“Bron, just tell me what the idea is.” Cyrus cut him off swiftly. “You know me, I'll give it to you straight.”

Dorian swallowed heavily and forced himself to sit on the edge of the couch. "I think I want to get Orym a ring."

Cyrus paused on the other end of the line. “...I hate to break it to you but I don't think Orym wears a lot of rings, Bron; he seems like more of a necklace or earrings guy-”

“No, Cyrus! An engagement ring you idiot!”

“Oooh, that makes a lot more- wait what?”

Dorian covered his face with his free hand. “...I knew it. I knew the idea was too much, too soon. I'll just get him something practical and useful instead and why are you laughing at me, Cyrus!?!”

Cyrus continued to laugh for a moment longer. “Because it’s funny! You’re both so dumb. I literally made this joke with Orym the other day that he had my blessings to marry you as his way of thanking me.”

“Wait what?”

“Yeah, he said he owed me something big for all the legal help I’ve been providing him with for the court case and I told him that the best gift he could give me was a brother-in-law I could trust to look after you. Then he got all quiet for a bit and he was definitely flustered when he told me he didn’t think you were ready for that conversation. Yet here you are asking about that exact thing.”

“Oh…” Dorian absently bit the inside of his cheek. “So…You don’t think I’m being too fast?”

“Well, I mean, that's the thing, isn’t it? From what I’ve seen your relationship has been a fast-slow burn from the start, so none of your friends would be surprised that you’re jumping off into the deep end like this. And no one’s saying you have to get married right after anyway; you can always have a long engagement. But I think you should ask him. Surprise him with the fact you’re ready for that step if it’s what you want. I can't imagine him ever saying no, especially to you, Bron.”

Dorian considered for a moment, nodding to himself. “Thanks, Cyrus, I appreciate it.”

“I expect to be the first person told when he says yes, except maybe for his mother, you should probably tell her first.”

Dorian laughed. “God’s, yeah, I should…I should reach out to her and ask, shouldn’t I? I mean, it would be the right thing to do. His family is really important to him even if they live so far away. I’m not looking forward to the shovel talk from his sisters, though.”

“But, think about it this way; it shows that you understand how important they are to him and want to include them in this even though they are far away. Kinda like how we’re talking about it now. Despite the fact you decided to ring at midnight, I’m really happy you wanted to talk to me about this. Shows me you care about my opinions. I also call dibs being the best man.”

“You can’t dibs being the best man! I get to decide that!”

“Do you really want Dariax to be your best man? Do you want him planning your bucks night where it ends up a disaster cause that man can’t plan anything? Or if he loses the rings? Or, right, your cool older brother could do it, who's super smart and great at parties.”

“Maybe I wanna ask one of Orym’s friends!” Dorian said indignantly as Cyrus laughed.

“Oh yeah? Like the genasi you nearly punched out of jealousy? Or the gnome who hates you? Or the spooky girl who can’t take a hint?”

“Laudna and Imogen are happily together now thank-you-very-much! Also, Chetney doesn’t hate me specifically; he’s just old and hates everyone.”

Cyrus laughed again. “All I’m saying is give me enough warning for the wedding and I’ll be there.”

“He hasn’t even said yes yet!”

“But he will. Trust me, Bron, he will.”

--

The start of Brussendar brought with it warm weather and Dorian’s slowly formed plans began to take shape. Thankfully, Orym didn’t mind him looking at his schedule book so he could see what classes he had coming up and around that, he was able to plan the deliveries of certain items he would need, plus, it gave him a chance to contact Orym’s family. Needless to say, they were surprised when they realised he was reaching out to them of his own volition, but when he’d explained what he had planned, what he wanted to ask of Orym, they were suddenly extremely enthusiastic. And he definitely saw money being exchanged between the triplets in the background of the video feed.

“I’ve never loved anyone like I love Orym and so I wanted you guys to be the first to know - well I mean, I maybe told my brother first - but like I want to be open and honest and talk to you about it as well. You all mean the world to Orym and I know regardless of the outcome, you’ll be the first he’ll tell.”

Coral nodded knowingly. “I expected as much when he wanted us to meet you at Winter’s Crest. My Orym’s not one to do things by halves after all. If you’re asking for my blessing, you have it. But I do want to know what you’ve got planned.”

Dorian smiled and was happy to tell her all the ideas he had brewing. It was actually very useful to brainstorm with them - they knew Orym a little differently than him and were able to make a few suggestions of things that Dorian made many notes of. Best of all, he even got to show them the designs he had for the ring, which they appropriately cooed over. By the end of the call, he was feeling more confident about his plans, with a few new ideas to add to them and the settling weight that they, for whatever reason, approved of him going forward with this. He let that feeling carry him for the rest of the week as he plotted and planned in the times Orym was out of the house.

However, apparently, he wasn’t as good of an actor when it came to his excitement. He’d been keeping all of his deliveries in his office cupboard, where Orym couldn’t find them, so he knew that part hadn’t given him away.

“Are you planning something?” Orym asked him one night over dinner and Dorian nearly choked on his vegetables.

“Whatever do you mean?” He’d coughed, but he knew the ruse was up when Orym arched an eyebrow at him. “Okay, yes, maybe for our anniversary…but it’s a surprise and I want you to actually be surprised by it.”

Orym smiled and slid a hand across the table to cover Dorian’s. “Alright, I’ll try and turn off my brain when I’m at home then so I don’t ruin it for myself.”

Dorian breathed a small sigh of relief. “I mean, I can help with that. The turning off your brain part.”

Orym snorted a laugh.

From then on, he was extra careful about what things he let slip, though he was confident that Orym was ignoring any unusual behaviours from him, now knowing there was a surprise waiting on the other end. And he knew Orym didn’t always like surprises, so the fact he was willing to play along for Dorian’s sake, in this case, spoke volumes about his affections for him. He’d nearly outed himself when the ring arrived, however, because he’d spent so long sitting on the couch staring at it, the full reality of the situation now sinking in that when Orym had arrived home, as announced by his knock, Dorian had launched himself off the couch in a frenzied panic in order to hide it in time. Orym hadn’t commented on the fact he’d been out of breath when he reappeared to welcome him home, but he definitely had filed it away before suggesting they make a start on dinner, seeing as Dorian had apparently been distracted.

And then it was the day. A year ago to the day, he’d actually asked Orym out and while they’d had a rocky road to start, it still marked a rather interesting year of achievements for the both of them. He couldn’t have been happier, though, and hopefully tonight with his proposal, Orym would understand just how much he’d changed his life for the better. He tried his best to be nonchalant about it as he saw Orym off at the door, but he knew his excitement bled through when the halfling pinched both his cheeks and grinned at him.

“Can’t wait to see what my surprise is when I get back,” He teased before Dorian kissed him again.

“I guarantee you won’t be able to guess what it is,” Dorian teased back before drawing him into a tight hug. “Now, remember to knock, please so I know to be in place.”

Orym laughed and reached over to knock his beat on the door cheekily. “I think I’ll remember. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Be safe.”

Dorian stole one last kiss before shuffling him out the door and closing it behind him. He waited a few moments before peeking out to make sure Orym was actually gone before he locked the door properly this time. He had about three hours to set up. Three hours before Orym would be back. Without further delay, he hurried into his office and checked to make sure the ring was still where he’d left it. After admiring it for a moment he took it out and stuffed it into his pocket, just for safekeeping and as a weighted reminder of his intentions for this evening. Then he then dug out the cherry blossom petals he’d ordered to scatter around the place. They’d been Coral’s idea, seeing as Zephrah was full of them, she’d thought it would be a nice reminder of home and Dorian agreed. It was also just fun to throw them haphazardly everywhere all over the living room once he’d shifted aside the coffee table and made them a little comfy blanket nest in front of the T.V.

He was in the process of bringing out the next couple of boxes, which held the other flowers he’d ordered - he’d considered getting real flowers but they were hard to hide for days and the fake ones nowadays were nice enough - when there came a sudden knock at the door. Orym’s knock in fact. Dorian paused. Orym had only been gone for less than twenty minutes. He must have forgotten something.

“Just a sec, Orym!” He called, hurriedly grabbing up the boxes again and jogging them back into his office. There was nothing he could do about the living room, Orym would see that scene the second he walked in, but at least the rest of his surprise - the dinner, the flowers and the ring - could be kept secret for a little longer.

He headed back out, pulling his hair out of his face and into a low ponytail, trying not to appear as if he’d just been caught in the act, despite that being exactly the case.

“Hey, so what did you-”

He stopped dead at the sight of an unfamiliar man standing in the doorway. Human, blonde and distinctly not Orym despite the fact he’d just used Orym’s knock. The stranger looked at him for a long moment, raking his eyes up and down and Dorian could only stare back, his heart pounding in his chest, hands shaking. Then the stranger closed the door and flicked the lock shut.

--

Orym considered himself to be a perceptive man. He noticed the small things - pieces of puzzles and patterns that most people tended to overlook when they took in the big picture. And he was always on alert. So while he didn’t always know exactly what it all meant at the time, later he was always able to piece things together to find the truth. Will had once suggested he would make a great detective and maybe in another life he would have. But in this life, he was a scarred man who saw danger around every corner and had attached himself to another scarred man who was in danger almost every time he stepped outside. Inside, he should have been safe. Inside, they never should have been able to reach him.

He took his usual route to the bus stop; he liked to walk to the one on the next block over most times just to have the chance to stretch his legs before classes, and that was when he noticed the last piece of the puzzle that had been slowly forming in his mind, though he’d been unaware of it until that moment.

His head was always on a swivel, so it wasn’t a surprise that he quickly noticed a familiar car parked down a side street, nearby to their apartment block. The thing that was strange, though, was that it was here. The student of his that it belonged to - Todd - didn’t live anywhere near this residential part of the city, at least not according to the info Orym had on him. Orym supposed he could be visiting friends, but then he remembered a few strange inconsistencies that had happened around the classes he’d had with Todd. Like his bag. At the time he’d thought that both his keys and his diary had just been tumbled around in his bag when he’d moved it - but that didn’t explain how his keys had gone from being tucked into his shoes to not. And the questions he’d asked, about whether Orym was seeing anyone. They hadn’t felt like a hopeful enquiry and more like an interrogation masked as attempted curiosity. So he’d lied and said he was not only single but straight and Todd had actually seemed relieved, curiously.

Before he could think more about it, he drew out his phone and dialled Dorian. It wouldn’t hurt to check up. If everything was fine and he was overthinking this, then he could just play it off as being too excited about his surprise.

But then the call went through to voicemail.

He rang again just in case Dorian was busy with his surprise and didn’t make it to the phone in time. The second time Dorian picked up.

…then immediately hung up.

Orym went running.

Chapter Text

His little whispers, "Love me, love me!"
That's all I ask for, "Love me, love me!"
He battered his tiny fists to feel something
Wondered what it's like to touch and feel something
Monster, how should I feel?
Creatures lie here, looking through the windows

“Who are you?” Dorian demanded as he backed away to put the couches in between him and the stranger. Intruder. Stalker.

The man didn't seem bothered by his question, however, and just locked the deadbolt as well before finally taking a step into the space and taking a deep breath. Then he looked at Dorian.

“You look well,” He commented calmly, as if he hadn’t just broken into Dorian’s home with a set of what he could only assume were Orym’s stolen keys. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You moved on pretty quickly afterwards. But I could never forget you.”

That was some context that he sorely needed. His worst fears had become a reality and one of his banned clients had come back to haunt him. He felt panic settle into his bones as the realisation that he was trapped here with a stalker kicked in, but he tried not to let it outwardly show. He had to stay focused, had to stay in the moment. Now wasn’t a time for him to go numb and panic. He could do that later when he was wrapped up in Orym’s arms and safe. He took a breath. Well, if this man was under the delusion that they were exes then he could play along. Maybe enough to get to the door or something.

“Well, you know how it is; I see a lot of men and sometimes it’s hard to keep them all straight in my head.” It was easy just to sink into the comfortable place where Blue lived - sweet dim-witted Blue, who he could use to his advantage. “I promise I never meant to. Why don’t you remind me?”

“It’s Todd. We were only dating for six months,” He snapped and Dorian flinched.

Now that he thought about it, this man did look familiar. One of the men who’d gotten very demanding about the type of boyfriend videos Dorian was doing for him. Every week, he’d wanted more and more and would get mad when Dorian increased the price or refused certain things. In the end, he’d banned him for abusive and threatening language. And now he was in Dorian’s home.

“I’m sorry, I never meant to offend you. I’ll remember it this time. I’m sorry.”

Todd took another step towards him and he matched it with a step around the couch to keep the distance between them. Dorian tried to make it seem cute, like a little game of cat and mouse. Instead, Todd’s gaze finally dropped off him to look down at the comfortable nest and petals Dorian had set up.

“Expecting company?”

Dorian smiled charmingly and changed the subject. “Why did you come to visit me today, Todd?”

He frowned. “I’ve missed you so much since we broke up.”

“Well, if I remember correctly, we broke up because you were very mean to me.” Dorian pouted and Todd looked remorseful.

“I know, that’s why I came to make it up to you. I’ve been seeing all the news; all the horrible things they’ve been saying about you. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Well, that’s very sweet of you,” Dorian shifted a little further around the couch as Todd pressed forward again. “But I’m doing just fine. I had a nice little break and now I’m back at work again. Everything’s as it was.”

“But it’s not!” Todd suddenly slammed his fist down on the arm of the couch. “Those who wronged you need to be brought to justice! If that Orym was actually a man, he would have done something by now about those people!”

Dorian jumped and then quickly pulled himself back. “You’re right! Of course! If Orym really loved me, he would have done something about those people. But what are you going to do, Todd? Are you going to save me from those people?”

Todd smiled. “I’ve already dealt with one of them.”

A chill ran down Dorian’s spine and now he was properly in the light of the living room, he noticed the small drops of red that were splattered up Todd’s arm. He covered his mouth in shock and horror.

“Who-”

“Let's just say your ex won’t be dragging your name through the mud for a while without the use of his legs.”

Nausea threatened to overtake him, but at the same time, he could only thank the gods that it wasn’t Orym that this maniac had attacked. And then, as if on cue, his phone, which currently sat on the edge of the kitchen bench, suddenly went off, playing Orym’s ringtone. But he stayed rooted to the spot, afraid to run for it. Todd might chase him down quicker than he could get there.

At the noise, Todd turned his head curiously.

Dorian made a split-second choice and hoped it was the right one. “That’s my alarm to let me know to take my medicine. If you don’t mind, I’m just going to turn it off.”

Todd blinked and then nodded, motioning for Dorian to do so. The call ended just as he got to it, and bless him, Orym rang again. This time he answered, then immediately hung up. He couldn’t risk trying to text a message, but hopefully, that would be enough. That Orym would understand and send for help. He turned back to Todd, only to find him advancing quicker than Dorian would have liked. He held up his hands and backed away with a smile.

“Why don’t we have a drink and catch up?” He suggested, which seemed to slow Todd down a step. “I’ll make you a nice cocktail and we’ll talk.”

“I’d rather just have you,” Todd said, still advancing but slower.

Dorian fought down another wave of nausea and waggled his finger playfully. “I demand to be romanced first, Todd. I’m not as easy as I like people to believe. Drink first. Sex later.”

Todd looked him up and down lustfully in a way that made his insides churn. “Alright. One drink.”

“What’s your poison? Wine, whiskey, maybe a nice shot?” Dorian asked as he stepped over to the cabinet, watching as Todd made his way over to the couch and sat down comfortably.

“Wine sounds nice.”

Dorian selected a bottle and tapped it thoughtfully. If he swung hard enough, it might buy him a few seconds to grab his phone and call for help. Or to run for the door. And if it didn’t shatter on the first swing, he could always try again. A concussed stalker was better than one who might try and overpower him. He picked up two glasses and turned back towards the couch, where he could see the back of Todd’s head. Vulnerable. He could do this. He could save himself. He would make it back to Orym and wouldn’t let him go through this again. He could be different from Will.

He was just adjusting his grip on the wine bottle, readying himself to swing, when the locks on the front door simultaneously and suddenly clicked open, drawing both his and Todd's attention. Half a second later, the door was thrown open and Orym practically fell into the room, dripping in sweat and gasping for breath.

“You motherfucker!” Orym growled as he laid eyes on Todd who went to rise. “You fucking used me!”

Dorian didn’t hesitate; dropping the glasses and barely listening to them shatter on the ground as he grabbed the bottle with both hands and swung. He clocked Todd across the back of the head harshly, shattering the bottle and sending him stumbling face-first into the coffee table. Instantly, Dorian dropped what remained of the bottle and ran for the door, scooping up Orym under the arms as the halfling continued to spit curses towards the man, practically carrying him over his shoulder as he bolted for the elevator. He slammed his fists repeatedly against the call button, glancing over his shoulder every other second, ready to charge into the stairwell the second he saw Todd come around the corner. However, he must have stunned him fairly well because the elevator doors opened with no sign of him. Dorian shoved Orym inside with him and closed the doors as quickly as he could, hitting the button for the lobby.

When the doors opened again, Dorian grabbed Orym by the arm and dragged him out hurriedly.

“Call the police, Rupert! Now!”

Rupert took one look at them - Dorian haggard and Orym still out of breath - and immediately reached for the phone on his desk, motioning them over hurriedly. Dorian pulled Orym with him to duck down behind the desk out of sight, just in case Todd decided to follow them down. With a moment to breathe, he finally looked to Orym, who had fallen eerily silent on the way down. His heart nearly shattered upon seeing that Orym was crying, tears streaming down his face with his lips pressed into a thin line. He was also trembling something fierce.

“Orym, darling,” He took his face in his hands and brushed away the tears, but more just kept falling. “I’m here, I’m okay, he didn’t touch me, he didn’t hurt me.”

Orym shook his head and grabbed hold of Dorian’s wrists tightly, clutching on like a lifeline.

“He used me…he used me to get to you,” Orym whispered as if he was in pain. “Dorian, he used me to get to you.”

“It’s not your fault,” Dorian soothed, dragging him into his arms to hold him tightly. “It’s not your fault.”

Orym curled into him, clutching on with clenched fists in the back of Dorian’s shirt and sobbed softly. “What would have happened if I hadn't come back? If I hadn't realised? Dorian, he could have killed you!”

“But he didn't. I'm okay.”

“He held you hostage in your own home, Dor.”

Dorian shook his head. “I can't think about that right now, Orym, we have to…we have to…”

He squeezed Orym tightly, forcing down the fear, nausea and panic that threatened to overtake him. He had to stay steady for just a bit longer. Friends. They needed friends so the both of them could just shut off for a little while. Shushing Orym gently and rubbing his back comfortingly, Dorian used his other hand to reach into Orym's bag and pull out his phone, seeing as his own was still on the counter upstairs. Then he carefully drew back so he could look Orym in the face and gather his attention.

“Orym, baby, I need you to unlock this for me so I can call our friends.”

It took a moment before Orym seemed to focus, then nodded and took the phone, his hands still shaking as he unlocked it, then passed it back to Dorian. Immediately, he dialled Opal.

“Nancy?”

“No, Opal, it’s me. Something’s happened and I’ll explain more later but we need you and Dariax here as quick as you can, please?”

“Shit, is Orym okay?”

“Physically yes, but…please hurry.”

“We’ll be there soon, hold on- DARIAX GET YOUR SHIT WE’VE GOT A CODE BLUE-”

Dorian lowered the phone as she hung up, turning back to Orym, who was still holding onto him tightly.

“Do you want me to call the Hells, too?” Dorian asked, cupping Orym’s face with his free hand, feeling the sudden urge just to have skin contact with him. Orym considered his words for a long moment, resting his cheek in Dorian’s palm.

“Just Ash and Chet; don’t worry the girls yet.”

Dorian nodded and quickly searched for Ashton’s number. It was much the same conversation as with Opal, explaining briefly that they were unharmed but something had happened and they needed friends quickly. Ashton promised to be there as soon as they could with FCG. Dorian then called Chetney and explained as well.

“And Chet, I know you know where Jasper lives, so please…please send an ambulance his way. I think he’s been attacked tonight as well.”

Once Chetney had promised to look into it, he ended the call and put all his focus back on Orym, cradling his boyfriend into his chest and finally letting the tremors overtake him.

“Oh my gods,” He whispered, pressing his face into Orym’s shoulder as fingers tangled into his hair to hold him close.

“Yeah,” Orym murmured a little dumbly as he rocked them absently.

“Oh my gods,” Dorian repeated, clutching on tighter to Orym. “Holy shit. Orym. Orym.”

“I know sunshine, I know.” Orym pulled him in as tight as he could. “I know.”

It was another ten or so harrying minutes of crouching behind the desk, clutching to one another, with Rupert keeping an eye out, before a group of police finally arrived in a whirlwind. As Rupert led two of them upstairs to the apartment to apprehend the intruder, the two who remained behind coaxed them both out from behind the desk and then outside to beside one of the squad cars. The flashing lights hurt his eyes but he still forced Orym to sit on the edge of the backseat, crouching down beside him and not willing to go far, their fingers and hands still knotted together tightly, seeking each other's comfort.

And then the questions started. Dorian answered as best he could, explaining what he knew; that this man was an ex-client who had been banned due to his words and behaviour and that after Orym had left this evening he’d entered the apartment with a set of stolen keys - copied Orym chimed in softly, remarking he’d noticed some weird residue on his keys the other week and had thought it was just gunk from his bag. Dorian then continued, explaining that Todd was under the impression that he’d actually been his boyfriend when he’d only ever been a client and that he was here now to defend Dorian’s honour from the reporters and ‘get back together’ with him. It was horrifying really, to have to lay it all out to this officer, but they took it in stride and quietly just made notes between questions.

“I’m pretty sure he also attacked someone else tonight. He had blood on his shirt. I think he might have gone after my ex, Jasper Morris, who said some things about me in an interview recently that might have angered him. If you could check up on him?”

The officer nodded and then turned to Orym to get his statement. Dorian just listened quietly as Orym relayed what he knew; that this Todd had hired him for a month’s trial of pole lessons and it wasn’t until tonight that all the pieces had fallen together - the misplaced items in his bag, the weird behaviours, the car. Orym also made sure to direct them to where he’d seen Todd’s car on the side street and that he could provide them with all the personal information Todd had given him when he’d signed up for classes. That was when Dorian noticed the car pulling up just short of the police cars and two familiar figures leaping out.

“DORIAN!”

“Opal!” Dorian called and Orym let him go so he could run to meet her halfway, colliding into a tight hug. “I am so glad to see you two.”

“Dorian, what’s happening?” Dairax asked as Dorian released Opal and reached for him next.

“A stalker,” Dorian said simply, squeezing Dariax tightly before letting go. “They broke in. There are cops upstairs now trying to capture him and gods, I hope they do.”

Before Dariax could fully process his words, Opal spotted Orym.

“Nancy!” She barrelled past Dorian towards him and as the officer looked at her she announced. “I’m his mother!”

“You’re not my mother, Opal,” Orym said, exasperated but at least there was a hint of amusement in his eyes at Opal’s antics. As she continued to distract Orym, Dorian quickly turned back to Dariax.

“I need you to take something and hold onto it for me for a bit so Orym doesn’t see.”

“What?”

After a quick head check to make sure Orym was properly distracted by Opal - she was currently pinching his cheeks worriedly and he was actually laughing and trying to bat her away - he dug into his pocket and pulled out the ring he’d only placed there less than an hour earlier and hurriedly pressed it into Dariax’s hand.

“Shit, dude,” Dariax said, staring down at the small gold polished ring with a band of emerald green stone separating it around the centre. “This is beautiful-”

“Shhhhhh.” Dorian placed a hand over his mouth. “Just hold onto it for me for a bit, okay? And don’t let Orym see.”

“Got it, got it, got it.” Dariax waved him off, shoving the ring into the inside pocket of his jacket and zipping it up. “Safe and sound. I’m sorry your night got ruined.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Dorian!” Opal screamed gathering both his and Dariax’s attention. “She says they’re bringing him down now; get your butt over here!”

They hurried back over to the car and the officer directed both Dorian and Orym to get inside before she shut the door and locked them in. They had a clear view out the front window to watch as Todd was escorted out in handcuffs, struggling against the officers and seemingly talking but Dorian couldn’t hear it from here over the sirens.

“He’s saying that they're standing in the way of true love and that ‘BabyBlue’ can’t hide from him because ‘we are two sides of the same coin, destiny bound’.” Orym swallowed heavily.

“You can read lips?” Dorian asked and Orym nodded.

“He’s insane.”

Dorian couldn’t help but agree.

“But, after everything tonight, he’ll go away for a long time. Long enough that if he ever gets out, we’ll be long gone where he can’t reach us.” Dorian slipped his hand into Orym’s, knotting their fingers together. “We should definitely move after all this. When news breaks, and it will, there’ll be more than just reporters and curious onlookers coming knocking.”

Orym nodded. “I already have a few suggestions. I’ve been looking at houses for weeks. There are some nice ones in the suburbs where it’s not that far to commute to my studio and you could set up a whole room however you wanted for your work and we could have room for guests and yeah...”

Dorian couldn’t help but smile softly. “You’ve really thought about this.”

“I have too much time to think on the bus to work,” Orym teased half-heartedly and squeezed his hand fondly. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I am safe when I’m with you.”

Orym frowned, but whatever he was going to say died in his throat as the doors unlocked and the officer opened the door to let them out again, now that Todd had been shoved into the back of the other vehicle.

“Apparently there was a bit of a scuffle with the perpetrator and he seems to have done some damage. My partner in the lobby will escort you up to grab some things; do you have somewhere else you can stay tonight?”

“You can come to our place,” Dariax offered and Opal nodded along.

“Thank you,” Dorian said before turning to Orym. “We better let Ashton and Letters know where we’re going. Chet too.

Orym nodded thoughtfully. “Well, we’d all fit in Letter’s van, so if they just meet us here, we can just go together.”

With a plan formed, they slowly made their way back upstairs with the officer, who asked them to try not to touch anything in the living room for the moment until the crime scene could be declared. However, that was easy enough to follow as Dorian found he couldn’t look at the living room long enough - the chairs were overthrown and his blanket nest had been torn apart - and instead hurried down to their bedroom with Orym and the officer on his heels. He poked his head into both his office and the bathroom on the way but they were both untouched. Then, when he entered the bedroom, however, he was dismayed to find that it had been tossed, their clothes and belongings strewn about everywhere. Nothing looked particularly damaged, but it was thrown about haphazardly, and he’d knocked several things off the shelves and onto the floor. While Orym dug out a bag for them to put some clothes in, Dorian picked up one of the fallen frames, smiling ruefully at the photo of the two of them together within, before putting it back on the shelf. Then he went and helped Orym gather up some clothes for their impromptu overnight stay.

Once the bag was packed with everything they needed, Dorian stole it off Orym in order to carry it, putting his hand into Orym’s empty one instead in order to lead them from the apartment and back down onto the street. Orym looked dead on his feet and he wanted nothing more than to get out and get someone safe so he could comfort his boyfriend. By the time they returned to the street, Ashton and FCG had arrived and joined Opal and Dariax. As they were being filled in on the situation and furthermore asked politely for a lift, Chetney showed up with more news.

“They found your ex,” He said bluntly as the group made their way to Letter’s van. “Both his legs were fucked but he’s alive.”

“Gods, what horrors have I unleashed?” Dorian rubbed at his face roughly, then looked down when Orym squeezed his hand.

“You couldn’t have known someone would go this far. What happened tonight was not your fault, Dorian.”

He wished he could believe him. Instead, he just stayed quiet and squeezed Orym’s hand back. Then Orym shivered violently.

“You okay?” Dorian asked and Orym nodded.

“Here, take my jacket buddy,” Dariax said, slipping it off and throwing it around Orym’s shoulders. “I got plenty more at home.”

“Thanks, Dariax,” Orym murmured before fumbling with the zipper for a moment.

Together, they all piled into FCG’s van and the robot drove them on the short trip to Opal and Dariax’s more modest apartment. During the drive, Dorian kept a tight hold on Orym’s hand, even though the halfling was squished right up against him in the backseat, with Dariax on his other side. And despite the trip being less than twenty minutes, it was still enough for Dorian to slip back into panic mode, as the full realisation of the events of the evening hit him all at once and the adrenaline finally wore off completely. There were so many ways that his encounter could have gone wrong, so many choices that could have fallen through. And the worst part was that he’d brought this upon himself. He should have been more careful, more guarded. He’d put Orym in the firing line all too quickly, which made him feel even worse. They hadn’t been prepared for this collision of their personal and online lives and it had blown up in their faces in the worst possible way.

After dropping them off, Ashton made them promise to stay in touch if anything else happened, and then he and FCG headed off with Chetney in tow, leaving the four of them to stumble into the apartment together. Dorian collapsed onto the couch immediately, pulling Orym directly into his lap to cradle him tightly to him. Orym went willingly, clutching onto the front of his shirt, his whole tiny body trembling still. Opal then brought them both over a glass of water each. Dorian sipped at his drink while Orym just stared down into the water like it had the answers to life’s mysteries.

“You guys should shower. Dariax is gunna camp with me tonight, so you guys can take his bed. He’s just changing the sheets now.”

Dorian nodded and set aside his glass in order to coax Orym to take a sip of his. “Thanks, Opal, we really appreciate this.”

“You would have done the same for either of us, Dor.” Opal smiled faintly, then reached over and ruffled his hair fondly. “I’ll grab you guys some towels.”

Dorian watched her go before turning back to Orym and helping him set aside his glass of water. Then he tugged him back into a tight hug. There were no words spoken for a long moment; they just held each other quietly, absently touching whatever parts of the other they could reach, Orym’s hand absently combing through Dorian’s hair, Dorian’s fingers following the curve of Orym’s spine, feeling the weight of the other and taking comfort in being close. He tried to keep his thoughts focused on the positives, that they were both alive and well and most importantly together. But he couldn’t help but mourn the loss of what this evening should have been and the fact that he was the only one to blame for what had happened.

Opal then returned with towels for the both of them and Orym insisted, tooth and nail, that Dorian be the first one to shower. So he pressed a soft kiss to Orym before taking his towel and meandering into the bathroom.

Chapter Text

They say you know when you find the one
Just a look from you, I come undone
So here I go speaking honestly
I think this is forever for me

Once Dorian was gone, Orym simply sat on the couch silently. Opal coaxed him to take the glass of water again and keep drinking it before she wandered back into the bedroom to see what was taking Dariax so long. But he didn’t drink, he just continued to stare down into it. This was all his fault. He should have been more careful, scanned clients a little more closely and kept a closer hold on all his belongings. The worst part was that Dorian had warned him about leaving his keys lying around and then he’d done just that and now look at where it had landed them. He’d almost lost Dorian because he hadn’t been careful again. He didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t spotted Todd’s car on that side street. If he hadn’t noticed those few odd little inconsistencies. He could have been having a very different night.

Unable to stomach the water any longer, he put it down and flopped back against the couch. Feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to solve anything, but he was too exhausted from everything to even begin starting to plan out their next steps. There was so much to do and so much to talk about. Dorian might not even forgive him for letting this happen after all. Though the talk of them moving at least seemed positive for now, he wasn’t too mad. Orym rubbed his hands roughly over his face before hugging himself tightly. They had a rather serious talk ahead of them and he wasn’t looking forward to it, but it was for the best.

That was when he realised he could feel something pressing against his chest on the inside of the jacket. Something small and round. He uncrossed his arms from around himself and pressed a hand over it absently. There was definitely something in the inside pocket and it was kind of annoying. Surely Dariax wouldn’t mind if he took it out so he could continue his shame spiral without it in there. He’d just give it to him when he went for his shower. So he unzipped the jacket, opened the inside pocket and reached in to pull out the offending foreign object.

Then he paused, staring down at the green and gold ring that glittered in his palm. That struck him as odd. Dariax wasn’t much of a jewellery guy outside his ears and this ring would be far too small to fit on his fingers anyway; maybe his pinkie if he really tried. He then considered it might be a gift for Opal, but on second thought, it was too big for her delicate fingers. Curiosity got the better of him and he quickly glanced behind him. After a moment of listening, he could hear Opal and Dariax arguing in the other room - “It shouldn't take this long to put on a fucking fitted sheet!” “You try putting it on then!” - and the sounds of running water in the shower where Dorian was. He was alone for the moment. So he picked up the ring and turned it over in his fingers.

It was a nice ring, polished gold with a band of emerald green around the middle of it and, honestly, looked like it would fit him. But he shoved that thought aside. Then an engraving on the inside caught his attention and he turned it to the light of the lamp to get a better look. His heart suddenly lept into his throat as he read the small, single word in a familiar cursive script, which gave him the last piece of context he needed.

‘Ladore’.

He nearly dropped the ring and, even then, only barely caught it between his palms as his heart suddenly pounded in his chest. This explained a lot of Dorian’s recent behaviour - the hiding and the sneaking around. He’d known about a surprise but he never would have guessed this. Dorian had been going to propose. He’d been going to propose tonight to Orym and now instead they were hunkering down at a friend's place because their evening had been ruined by Orym’s mistakes. By his shortcomings.

“Orym?”

He jumped a little at the sound of Opal’s voice and turned to see her poking her head out from what he assumed was Dariax’s room.

“Dariax is all done with the bed if you wanna come and have a lay down for a bit. I’ll go get his highness out of the shower.”

“Thanks, Opal.” Orym clutched the ring tighter in his hand and hopped up off the couch to join her.

Dariax’s room was simple; a double bed, a computer on a desk and the biggest, most ridiculous lava lamp he’d ever seen tucked into the corner. The glow from it was going to keep him up all night if the nightmares didn’t get to him first. As if sensing his thoughts, Opal went and flicked off the lamp and patted him on the shoulder before exiting, pulling the door over almost all the way to give him a semblance of privacy. He stood there for a moment longer, then finally clambered up to sit on the edge of the bed, shedding Dariax’s jacket and putting it on the bed beside him. He looked at the ring again, then closed his fist around it tightly, letting it press an indent into his palm before sighing heavily. He should put it back in the jacket before Dorian noticed it was gone.

Just as he reached for the jacket, the door opened and Dorian stepped in, dressed in his comfy pyjamas and calling back over his shoulder at someone.

“-just something small, please. Sandwiches will do. Thank you.”

Dorian shut the door completely, then sighed and leaned back against it heavily, dropping their overnight bag down in the space next to the door. He rolled his neck absently cracking it before settling his gaze on Orym sitting on the bed. Then he smiled faintly.

“Hi,” Dorian said softly, moving over to drop to his knees on the ground before him. “Dariax is gunna make us some food 'cause we missed dinner but I don’t know how hungry you are.”

Orym shrugged a little. “Not very, but…I know I should eat something at least.”

Dorian nodded knowingly, then leant up to press a kiss to his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling??” Orym couldn’t help the hysterical note his voice took on. “Dorian, you were held hostage in our home and you’re asking about me?”

“Yes!” Dorian grabbed his shoulders, exasperated. “Because I know a lot of this is parallel to a terrible experience you had! Because I love you and I need to know that you’re okay!”

Orym opened his mouth, hesitated and snapped it shut. Then he tried again.

“I’m not okay,” He croaked, feeling the tears threaten once more. “This creep used me in order to get to you and the worst part is, it fucking worked. If I hadn’t seen his car or put the pieces together quickly enough, I might have lost you. I was careless again and it almost cost me you.”

Dorian cupped his face. “It’s not your fault, though! You couldn’t have predicted this and I don’t blame you for any of what happened tonight. I’m just relieved you came when you did and that we’re both here, alive and together.”

The tears finally broke the dam and spilled down his face and he reached up his free hand to grasp at Dorian’s wrist, the other still tightly clenched around the ring.

“This is on me, Orym. I should have prepared for this better, should have kept better tabs on my clients and should have shielded you from the media circus that my life is and-”

“No.” Orym gripped tightly to his wrist. “No, this isn’t your fault. Dorian, don’t you dare ever think that any of this was your fault. This guy was obsessed and you did everything you could to protect us and I don’t blame you for anything that happened tonight.”

Dorian swallowed heavily, a few stray tears dripping down his face. “So if you won’t let me blame myself and I won’t let you blame yourself, who do we blame?”

Orym sneered. “That fucker who ruined our evening.”

Dorian nodded then dragged Orym in for a kiss before bumping their foreheads together. They stayed there for a long moment, Orym just relishing the closeness and working up the energy to go and shower, reasoning it might make him feel a little better. After a moment longer, he sat back up and watched as Dorian drew back, looking at him before his eyes dropped to the jacket sitting beside Orym. There was a momentary flash of realisation before he quickly schooled his expression back to neutral.

“Could you…uhm…weird request but like…just close your eyes for a second?” Dorian had that note of panic in his voice that meant he was trying very hard not to be obvious. “Just one second.”

“Okay?” Orym dutifully closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of Dorian ripping open the inside zipper and then cursing softly. “Are you looking for something?”

Dorian choked a little. “I…maybe…”

Orym could hear him shuffling through the other pockets now.

“Is it maybe small, round and…green?” With eyes still closed, Orym held out his hand, the ring resting on his palm.

“Shit.”

“I’m sorry, Dor. I didn’t…It was bothering me and so I looked and…” He gave a thin smile. “I can pretend I never saw it. That I don’t know.”

Dorian sighed heavily and seconds later there was a soft thump, the sound of him flopping down onto the floor. “It’s fine. Everything else this evening got ruined, why the hell not this too?”

Orym smiled despite himself and clutched the ring again. “Can I open my eyes now?”

“Yeah.”

He opened his eyes to find Dorian starfished on his back on the ground at his feet, one arm thrown dramatically across his eyes to block out the light. Carefully, to avoid stepping on him, Orym slipped down off the bed and joined him, curling into his side under his outstretched arm. As if on instinct, Dorian’s arm curled around him, cuddling Orym in against him. He shifted a little to get comfortable, resting his head as best he could on Dorian’s chest and held the ring between his fingers, slowly turning it over and over.

“I had the whole evening planned out!” Dorian suddenly blurted out, startling him a little. “I was going to make us a great dinner, we were going to cuddle in a blanket nest with all these flowers and petals and watch your favourite movie and then…then…well.”

He gestured into the air with his hand before resting his arm back over his eyes.

“Cats out of the bag,” Orym supplied and Dorian nodded.

“I wanted it to be special. I wanted to surprise you.”

“I mean, you succeeded,” Orym chuckled dryly. “Until I saw this, I had no idea what you had planned for tonight.”

Dorian pursed his lips. “Well, that’s comforting at least.”

Orym hummed thoughtfully. “So are you going to ask me or not?”

Dorian’s head shot up and he finally looked at Orym in bewilderment. He smiled despite himself.

“I don’t need a special proposal. It’s wonderful that you wanted to do all that for me and I’m very honoured, but I don’t need flowers or dinner or the romance beforehand. So long as it comes from here-” He poked Dorian in the chest. “Then that’s all that matters to me.”

Orym shuffled to sit up, kneeling beside him before carefully placing the ring on Dorian’s chest and patting it down.

“You know, the only reason Derrig proposed to Nell when he did was because he knelt down to retie his shoe and she misunderstood and rather than disappoint her, he went along with it and proposed on the spot. He didn’t even have a ring. Not all proposals have to be perfect, Dor, they just have to be with the right person.” He pressed a kiss to Dorian’s cheek and then stood up. “I’m gunna go have a shower, I won’t be too long.”

He stepped over Dorian to the bag by the door and dug out some fresh clothes before finally glancing back at his boyfriend. Dorian had sat up at this point and was absently cradling the ring, watching him. Orym smiled warmly at him before he headed out and down to the bathroom. He tried not to stay too long under the water in fear of the thoughts he might face but just long enough to wash away the day and perhaps give Dorian a chance to breathe and to think about his words. Once he was satisfied he’d taken enough time, he shut off the water, dried off and dressed before padding his way back down to their room for the night, the towel still around his shoulders.

Dorian was waiting for him, still on the ground, though he’d shifted to sit on his haunches instead and had a plate of sandwiches in front of him, untouched. As Orym entered, he reached out with both hands towards him and when Orym took them, Dorian drew him to embrace him tightly. After a long moment, he pulled back and held Orym at arm’s length.

“Orym…I…”

From the other room, loud voices suddenly shattered the silence of the moment and they both turned to look at the door as Opal’s shrill voice screeched. “It’s my bed and I sleep on the left side!” followed by Dariax’s tenor reply “But I’m the guest in this room, so I get to pick!”. Orym couldn’t help but chuckle but when he turned back to Dorian, his face fell to match his.

“I don’t think I can do this tonight,” Dorian admitted softly. “I think the universe is telling me to wait a bit longer.”

Orym nodded and cupped his face. “I understand. I can wait. I’ll wait as long as you need.”

Dorian smiled fondly before gathering him back up into a tight hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Orym then gently coaxed him into a kiss, which he had intended to be tender and comforting, but quickly dissolved into a passionate tangle of tongues, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Dorian's hands went wandering down his spine, but he caught them right before they reached his ass.

“We shouldn't…” Orym murmured against his lips. Dorian nipped at his bottom lip.

“Dariax slept with my brother; fucking you in his bed is fair payback.” He kissed down along Orym's neck causing him to shiver. “We'll put a towel down if that makes you feel better but I just…I need something to go right tonight. I need to feel you against me. Please.”

Orym considered for a moment, listening to the continuing argument in the next room. “...we’ll have to be quiet.”

Dorian grinned and kissed him roughly. “That’s not a problem for me.”

“Says the pornstar,” Orym teased softly as Dorian plucked the towel from around his neck and tossed it up onto the bed.

Dorian then pulled Orym back in to kiss him again, warm hands going for the ties of his pyjama pants before coaxing them down so Orym could step out of them along with his underwear. This time, when Dorian’s hands roamed, he didn’t stop them from palming his ass, instead wrapping his arms around Dorian’s neck and pulling him into a deeper kiss. Once he’d been properly felt up and was appropriately hard in response, Dorian scooped him up and deposited him onto the bed, spreading out the towel before laying Orym down on his back.

Dorian took his time stripping himself out of every stitch of clothing before landing on top of him, completely covering Orym in a sea of beautiful blue skin. Immediately he began to run his hands all over Dorian, drawing him in closer until there was no space left between them and Orym was fighting for oxygen between the bruising kisses Dorian pressed to him. They simply rutted together like teens but it was worth it, even when the tears started and his mind betrayed him. He couldn’t stop thinking about how close he’d been to losing Dorian tonight.

“Orym?” Dorian drew him back into the moment, gently cupping his face as if he were porcelain.

Orym swallowed heavily. “We should get out of the city. Go camping in the wilderness. Be anywhere but here when the news breaks tomorrow because it will break. And because I’m selfish and I want you to myself as far away from it as I can get you.”

“Okay.” Dorian nodded. “Okay. We’ll get everything together tomorrow and just…go. We’ll run away for the week, if that’s what you need.”

“Thank you.” Orym croaked softly and pulled him back in for another kiss. “Thank you.”

Dorian hummed and sank into the kiss, pressing Orym down completely into the sheets before drawing back to push himself up on his hands.

“Can I fuck you?” Dorian asked softly and Orym wasn’t quite sure why he blushed so violently.

It was far from the first time, but something in Dorian’s achingly longing and loving expression struck a chord deep within him and he found himself a little lost for words, just nodding rather than answering. Dorian smiled and kissed him on the end of the nose before sitting Orym up to rearrange the pillows behind him and comfortably prop him up. Then he went hunting for lube in Dariax’s drawers, giving Orym such an excellent view of his ass that he couldn’t resist leaning over to pinch it, causing Dorian to yelp and almost drop the lube.

Orym’s laughter was smothered by Dorian pouncing on him, kissing him back into the pillows and stealing all the breath he had left before popping the cap on the lube as quietly as he could. Dorian then carefully parted Orym’s legs, poured lube into his hand and worked it down behind Orym’s balls and across his hole teasingly pressing his lube-slicked fingers in. By now, he knew exactly how Orym liked it - liked how deep inside his fingers slid and how when they curled just at the right angle to reach the bundle of nerves, he lost all sense of himself.

And Dorian did just that, forcing Orym to stuff his fist into his mouth to keep quiet and not alert their hosts to the happenings, the other hand clutching to the pillows behind him. Dorian chuckled fondly and mouthed at his neck, nibbling hickeys into the skin and continued to fuck him open slowly, one finger at a time until he was slightly delirious and shaking. Dorian then shifted down, leaving a trail of marks along his chest until he could wrap his lips around Orym’s weeping cock. Orym shuddered as Dorian lapped up the bead of precome before swallowing him down whole, lavishing him with his tongue until he was quivering on the edge, toes curled. Dorian pulled off with a soft wet pop and nosed as Orym’s curls.

“Don’t hold back, my love, I got you,” He whispered before taking Orym down back to the root and curling his fingers again. Orym had only enough sense about him to cover his mouth with his palm as he came with a moan, spilling into Dorian's waiting mouth. As he trembled through the aftershocks, Dorian licked him clean before sitting back up and teasingly wiggling the fingers he still had inside Orym.

“Dor, please,” He whined softly and blessedly Dorian took pity on him - or maybe he was just as eager - and removed his fingers to replace it with his cock pressing in until the head was past the first rings of muscle. Then, once he’d hoisted Orym’s legs up around his waist, he knotted their fingers together and pressed them down into the pillows, effectively pinning Orym down. But he didn’t feel trapped - knowing that after tonight Dorian needed the control - only encompassed in love and warmth as Dorian swooped down to kiss him and thrust into him with the same movement, his mouth effectively silencing the noise Orym would have made.

With the next thrust, Dorian rolled his body against Orym’s, as if he needed every inch of skin contact he could get. Orym relished in it, arching up to meet him on the next roll, moaning Dorian’s name softly into his mouth, feeling him shiver against him.

“I love you, Orym Ashari,” Dorian whispered against his lips, squeezing his hands. “And someday I’m gunna propose properly and then I’m gunna marry you and we’ll get a house in the suburbs and everything will be perfect, I promise.”

Orym felt hot tears trickling down his face and at this point, he was unsure if they were Dorian’s or his own. But it didn’t matter as Dorian was kissing him again, releasing his hands in order to run his own down the length of Orym’s body, over every muscle and scar, each one though long memorised, now burning alight with renewed fondness and appreciation. Orym curled a hand up into the hair at the nape of Dorian’s neck, guiding him right where he wanted him. The other hand reached around to drag short bitten nails across the skin of Dorian’s back and coax him back into movement.

It had the exact effect he wanted, Dorian bucking into him at the feeling of nails on his skin and groaning softly. His hands then settled on Orym’s thighs, carefully shifting them up and changing the angle at which he struck with his next thrust. Orym barely caught himself, biting down on Dorian’s lip before he cried out, but that only caused Dorian to gasp in response to the pain.

“Sorry, sorry,” Orym murmured, kissing his lip gently. “It’s good. So good.”

Dorian shivered and suddenly thrust into him twice, hard, catching Orym’s gasping moans in his mouth. “Bite down on my shoulder and hang on.”

Orym did as he was told, tucking his head into the curve of Dorian’s neck and biting down into the meat of his shoulder, wrapping both arms around Dorian’s torso to clutch onto his back. Dorian snapped his hips forward and Orym groaned around his mouthful of shoulder. Seeming satisfied Orym was effectively silenced, Dorian proceeded to pound him into the mattress with practised efficiency. Apparently being fucked within an inch of his life was enough to get his cock to spring back with renewed interest, especially when Dorian shuddered and moaned his name quietly into the side of his neck as he came.

Orym cursed, clenching down around Dorian at the feeling of being filled up, before Dorian propped himself up on his elbows over him, a little out of breath. Still hard, Orym slipped a hand down between them, wrapping it around his cock to work himself over, absently rocking himself on Dorian’s cock still within him.

“You gunna come for me like this so I can watch you?” Dorian asked, sitting up properly and pressing his thumbs into the crease of Orym’s legs. “Make a mess of yourself for me?”

Orym whimpered and sped up his hand, rocking in time to meet Dorian’s lazy thrusts until he reached breaking point and tumbled over with a muffled groan into his fist. When he finally blinked back into himself, he looked up to find Dorian watching him reverently.

“So pretty,” He murmured, running a finger through the spend that now painted Orym’s chest before bringing it up to his mouth and licking it off. “All messy and covered in my marks. I ought to fill you up again just to see if you can take it.”

Orym flushed a little. “I mean, you can.”

Dorian blinked. “What?”

He felt himself burn. “I want to make you come inside me again.”

“Oh.” Dorian flushed a delicious shade of purple to match the blooming bruise on his shoulder. “Yeah, okay…uh…”

“Put me in your lap?” Orym asked softly and Dorian nodded, pulling out only long enough to reposition himself against the pillows before putting Orym in his lap.

Though his legs were a little shaky from the two orgasms already under him, Orym was determined to make this good. He braced himself on Dorian’s shoulders before lowering himself carefully down onto the waiting cock, clenching around him once he was fully seated. Dorian gaped, breathless and Orym took that as his cue to move, bouncing himself up and down in his lap, fucking himself onto Dorian’s cock, trembling at the threat of overstimulation that crept up along his spine. Dorian shivered, his fingertips pressing bruises into Orym’s hips before he moved in motion with him and carefully met each bounce with a short, sharp thrust of his own. Orym had to smother himself to keep from making noise as Dorian matched his pace as he sped up, feeling the tension in his gut already twisting tightly to the point of snapping.

Somehow, Dorian broke first, biting down on his lip hard to silence his groan as he came, continuing to bounce Orym until he too tipped over and trembled through orgasm. And while nothing really came out of him - a few pitiful drops - he still shuddered and clenched down around Dorian’s cock as the endorphins ran wild. Before he could collapse off sideways as the exhaustion suddenly hit him, Dorian caught him and brought him forward to lay on his chest. He melted into the familiar warmth of Dorian as his arms came up and around Orym.

“So good for me,” Dorian cooed softly, combing his hand through Orym’s hair before pressing his lips to his hairline. “This is why you deserve a special proposal.”

Orym chuckled. “If coming three times in a row was all I needed to do to get you to ask, I would have done it months ago when I fell in love with you.”

Dorian snorted softly, amused. “You are a brat. And a wonder. And all mine.”

He squeezed Orym’s ass, causing him to wiggle a little and laugh softly.

“You know, that sounds pretty long-term, Dorian,” Orym murmured with a slow flutter of his eyelids as he fought the fog of sleep for just a moment longer.

“Apparently I’m a pretty long-term guy, darling,” Dorian whispered, soothing his hand up Orym’s spine.

Eventually, they shifted and cleaned up a little so Orym could lay out on his back and almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out, the sound of Dorian’s fond laughter lulling him off to sleep.

--

The next morning, Dorian was already up by the time Orym woke. So he dressed in silence and then trod out to find Dorian posted up at the kitchen table with a pot of coffee and some toast. Dariax stood at the stovetop with his back to them, humming happily as he cooked. Whatever it was smelled fantastic and Orym’s stomach grumbled in response. He hadn’t actually eaten anything last night and was only now realising he was starving.

“Morning,” Dorian greeted, leaning down to accept Orym’s good morning kiss before the halfling hopped up into the chair beside him. “Dariax is making eggs for breakfast. Opal’s still in bed apparently.”

“Sounds good,” Orym smiled a little at Dorian before calling over to Dariax, “Thanks for having us last night; I know it wasn’t expected.”

“Hey, you guys are always welcome; I just wish it had been under better circumstances.”

Dariax flipped his scrambled eggs out into the bowl beside him before picking it up and spinning around to step over to them at the table and drop it off. Then he stopped and blinked at Orym for a moment. It honestly took Orym a whole second to remember that his neck was covered in dark hickeys and that they’d be visible with the clothes he was wearing. Dariax’s eyes widened.

“Did you-??” Dariax started, turning to Dorian who stared back cooly.

“Cyrus,” He said simply before taking a sip of his coffee.

Dariax grimaced. Then nodded knowingly. “...Fair play. I’m going to go…change my sheets again.”

“We put a towel down at least!” Orym called after him, feeling guilty.

“Nope! Don’t wanna know!” Dariax called back.

Once he was out of sight, Dorian giggled into his breakfast as Orym pressed his face into his hands, blushing red with embarrassment. Then he took a breath and pinched some toast off Dorian’s plate to chew on it thoughtfully for a moment, watching as Dorian absently scrolled through his news feed.

“Dorian?”

“Hm?”

“So about last night…about getting out of town for a while?”

“Oh!” Dorian put his phone down and turned his attention fully to Orym. “I’ve been looking into that actually. I don’t think the news has dropped just yet so we might still have time to duck out today and get whatever you think we need to spend a week camping.”

“You’re really okay with this? I know you’ve never been camping before and-”

“Orym, I trust you. Just tell me what we need and we’ll organise it.”

Orym smiled fondly and reached over to pat his hand. “I was also going to say that as much as I’d love to just skip town today, we probably can’t. The police are going to want to follow up on the incident last night and there are going to be a lot of hard questions to be answered.”

Dorian chewed on his lip. “And…you’re going to be there with me the whole way?”

“Of course.” Orym squeezed Dorian’s hand. “Whole time.”

“Then I think I can do it.” Dorian nodded, then sat up a little straighter. “We’ll sort out this mess and then…then we’ll go. Just you and me for a week out in the wilderness.”

Orym smiled before drawing Dorian down into a sweet kiss.

“It sounds perfect.”

Chapter Text

I get the feeling we're so misdirected, I get the feeling we have lost control
Tune in I'll turn you to the new religion, we're dropping out into the so unknown
If we have lost control, we're drifting slow into the so unknown
If we have lost control, we're drifting slow until we drop out
And I'll give you this confession
I am taking you with me

It took a week until they were in the clear. Dorian couldn’t deny that he cried more during that week than he could ever remember doing so in his life. He cried upon returning to the apartment to be reminded of the destruction left in the wake of the stalker. He cried during the cleanup of their bedroom, sorting through clothes that felt tainted by the incident. He cried when the police questioned them - though having Orym there holding his hand made him feel a little better - and he cried when the news finally broke about the incident. Again, for the second time in two months, he was in the spotlight of public gossip blogs and he hated it. Only two good things came out of it; one was the fact that their address was never mentioned and the second, was that they only ever referred to him as “BabyBlue”. However, Orym’s name, on the other hand, was thrown about like a tennis ball and the fact that they were living together was all but confirmed now. In the end, Dorian had to turn off the comments on Orym’s OnlyHeroes page as flocks of BabyBlue’s fans flooded to it. Some of the comments were fine - weird if not curious - but many others were abusive, threatening and downright terrifying.

In the meantime, Orym had temporarily suspended his classes, citing that he needed a two-week break, and had been slowly amassing supplies that they would need for a week of camping. He borrowed a tent and a cooler from Ashton and FCG and spent several days prepping foods that could be cooked or reheated over a campfire. Orym also already owned a couple of sleeping bags and they soon joined the pile by the door he was building of the things they needed, like the extra blankets, the picnic set and cooking utensils. He also took it upon himself to fold and pack all of their clothes, despite Dorian telling him he was capable of packing his own things. But he could also tell that Orym didn’t like the thought of not having anything useful to do and so let him do it anyway. Together, they also organised an off-roading car that Orym could drive, seeing as Dorian had never driven off-road before in his life.

While Orym worked on preparing them for their trip, Dorian worked through his backlog of prepared videos and images for his OnlyHeroes until the end of the week, when he announced that, in light of the recent events, he was taking a short break and would be back before they knew it. And after that, he had one more thing he wanted to do before they left the city for a while. The last hurdle was convincing Orym.

"You have got to be kidding me." Orym rubbed at his eyes roughly. "No. No, I can't let you do this to yourself."

"Well, it's not for you to decide!" Dorian said, shoving away the groceries. "It’s my fault he’s in there-”

“No! We are not having this debate, Dorian. He put himself there with the shit he said. It’s not your fault that the stalker went after him! You owe him nothing.”

“I just want to take him some flowers-”

“He’s lucky I didn’t fucking put him there myself!” Orym snapped. Dorian took a deep breath.

“I am going to see him whether you come with me or not. So you can either sit here and pout or get in the car and pout there.”

In the end, Orym got in the car and silently fumed the whole way to the hospital. Despite that, when Dorian reached over to place a hand on his knee at the stop light, Orym covered it with his own and squeezed back. Dorian knew he didn’t need to do this, that there was nothing to prove by going, but it still felt like the right thing to do whether Orym liked it or not. So with his small bouquet of flowers and Orym by his side, he entered the hospital. After a quick stop at the front desk, they made their way up to the ward where Jasper was and Dorian requested five minutes to chat alone with Orym waiting outside. If Orym hadn’t looked so on edge, he might have asked for ten, but he was already asking a lot so five would have to do. Orym didn’t seem pleased but waved him in and posted up next to the door. Entering the ward, it looked as though Jasper was the only one there, tucked into the far left-hand corner next to the window and when Dorian entered, he looked up, brow furrowed with confusion.

“Dorian? The hell?”

“Hi. Uh…I bought you some flowers?”

Jasper only continued to stare unbelievingly as Dorian marched over and set them in the vase, rearranging them to look nice.

“...you came to laugh at me.”

“Do you hear me laughing?” Dorian asked, finally settling his gaze on him. “I just came to bring you some flowers and wish you a speedy recovery because that’s what you’re supposed to do. Even to shitty exes.”

Jasper sneered. “Your goddamn stalker is the reason I’m here and all you bring is some shitty flowers and some words? Get fucked, Dorian.”

Dorian sighed and finished fiddling with the flowers. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Oh, and you have?”

“Maybe not. But I came here to drop off some flowers and tell you to get better soon. And now that I’ve done that, I’ll get out of your hair.” Dorian turned and headed for the door. Then paused. “And by the way, Orym knows everything that happened between us, so you are very lucky he decided to take the peaceful route.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“‘Cause they never would have found your body otherwise.” Dorian smiled. “Have a good life. Stay away from mine.”

Dorian exited without another word, rejoining Orym at the door.

“See, all done. I’m untethering myself from my past.”

“You’ve been talking to Letters, haven’t you?” Orym chuckled, taking his hand as they walked back to the elevators. “You know you didn’t have to do that. He doesn’t deserve any more of your time.”

“I know, but…it felt like the right thing to do.”

Orym nodded and squeezed his hand. “They never would have found his body, huh?”

Dorian flushed. “Well, I mean, what’s scarier than having both of your femurs broken by a steel bat?”

“Fair. It’s true, though; there was a time I considered war crimes against him. Not any more though. Now he gets to live with his mistakes for the rest of his life. And we get to move on with ours.”

“Yeah,” Dorian smiled warmly. “Let's get out of here. I think my cute boyfriend needs to be ravished against the nearest surface when we get home.”

Orym laughed. “You’re insatiable.”

“Only for you.”

--

With the court date for sentencing set and no more questions to be answered, they locked the apartment up behind them, packed the jeep and headed out of the city for their long-awaited week-long break. Orym made sure that no less than three people knew exactly where they were going - FCG, Chetney and Laudna - and had borrowed Chet’s satellite phone just in case they were too far out to get reception. That didn’t stop Dorian from sitting in the passenger seat beside him, taking selfies like a teenager and texting rapid-fire back and forth with whom he assumed to be Opal given the speed at which his phone pinged with replies. They were just outside city limits when Dorian turned up the radio, citing he enjoyed the song and bopped along as they finally hit the highway. Orym had made this trek more than a few times - sometimes with the whole group of Bell’s Hells, sometimes with just Chetney and once or twice on his own when he needed a weekend away from the hustle and bustle of the city. But from the way Dorian stopped and looked around curiously, he had to wonder.

“When was the last time you left the city?” He asked once they hit cruise speed and he could focus mostly on not hitting the other cars around him.

Dorian paused and shrugged, settling back in his seat. “Like…three years maybe? When I moved here, I didn’t really see the need to leave cause I had everything I needed around me, you know? And then I started working full time and like…this is the second break I’ve taken in almost three years and they’re both within two months of each other.”

“You know that’s not healthy, right?” Orym knew he was a bit of a workaholic as well but at least he’d taken breaks every now and then.

“Yeah. I know. I kinda gave up everything to work full time and then it slowly morphed into the only friends I kept were Dariax and Opal and Fearne because I trusted them in my home and with knowing what I did for work. And then, I didn’t date after Jasper because that was an ordeal and I felt like I couldn’t trust myself to pick someone who was not going to…you know.” He shrugged again. “Not to mention, usually telling people my day job is porn either attracts weirdos or puts people right off.”

“That…sounds like it was really lonely.”

“It didn’t feel like it at the time but looking back now, it was the loneliest time of my life. I was self-isolating to an extreme. But then I met a very polite halfling and all his really weird friends and I’m now the happiest I’ve ever been.” Dorian rested a hand on his thigh and Orym patted it fondly.

“Sounds like a good guy, this halfling.”

Dorian grinned. “He is. I’m very lucky to have met him.”

His hand slowly started to creep up higher on Orym’s thigh and squeezed.

“I’m driving right now, Dor,” Orym warned him with an amused chuckle.

“But I’m not.” His hand crept up a little higher. “Come on, you see it in all the movies.”

“Yeah, well, in the movies they’re not actually doing a hundred down a highway; the car is stationary.” Orym gently smacked the back of his hand until he released him. “You can have your way with me once we actually arrive in one piece, okay?”

Dorian pouted and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You’re no fun.”

“I am arguably lots of fun, just not on a busy highway where we might crash.” Orym shot him a side glance. “Are you excited, though?”

“I mean, did you pack bug spray?”

“Yes, I packed bug spray.”

“And you’re sure there's no bears in the area we’re staying at?”

“I’m positive.”

“Then maybe I’m a little bit excited. Just a little.”

--

It was early afternoon when they finally arrived at the camping grounds, tucked deep within the forest and fairly off the beaten track. Chetney had helped him pick it out - it was quiet and remote but not so lost in the maze of dirt tracks that if something should happen, they wouldn’t be able to get help. And picturesque too. He’d wanted somewhere arguably beautiful because he knew Dorian would appreciate that. He also knew somewhere in Dorian’s bags he’d packed a camera or two and they were going to have a discussion about that later. But for now, he pulled the Jeep off to the side of where he thought would be a good place to pitch the tent, and hopped out to take a deep breath of that fresh mountain air and stretch his legs. On the other side of the car, Dorian all but fell out, his legs probably cramping from staying still for so long, before he straightened and took in the view of the woods around them.

“This is a nice, pretty area,” Dorian said before rounding the car to meet Orym at the boot. “Are we the only ones out here?”

“I think I saw a car just a bit down the hill at one of the other camping grounds, but yeah, I think we’re pretty alone for now.”

He opened the boot door and went to grab some of the bags and instead found himself being scooped up and placed to stand on the step, where he was at the perfect height for Dorian to swoop down and kiss him. He chuckled into the kiss as Dorian wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in tightly.

“We should unpack the car first, pitch the tent, set up and get settled,” He murmured against Dorian’s lips as he tried to coax his boyfriend back.

“I know one tent I want to pitch,” Dorian joked, shifting the focus of his lips down Orym’s neck as he snorted.

“Come on, Dor, I’ll make it worth your while if we just get through these few boring things first.”

Dorian sighed dramatically. “Alright, fine, what do we have to do?”

With Dorian actually focused on the task, unpacking the car didn’t take too long; shifting the few things they needed out of the way so they could pull out the tent and begin to set it up. However it was almost immediately obvious Dorian had no clue what he was doing with the poles when Orym asked if he could put them together, spending almost a whole five minutes trying to connect the wrong ends until Orym came over to help and explain. It went a little smoother after that, though Dorian did manage to smack himself in the face with the poles as they were wrangling them into place. And while it took a little longer than if he’d done it on his own he’d figured it was important Dorian helped. But finally it was pitched and they could start shoving in the bedding. Orym took over that job, rolling out the mats first before the foam, then the inflating mattress, which he set up with the little pump. Dorian also passed him in the clothes bags, of which Dorian had somehow come with two to Orym’s single backpack.

“Why do you have so many clothes? We’re here for a week?” Orym asked as he stuffed Dorian’s second clothes bag as far back into the corner between the mattress and the wall before opening it up to glance inside. “Why do you have lingerie? We’re camping!”

“I’d be remiss not to use these beautiful woods as a photo op, Orym!” Dorian called back and when Orym poked his head out, Dorian was by the car, pulling out another bag. “I used up a good portion of my backlog this week and last so I need to stock up on it again and this is a great opportunity-”

“Dorian, sweetheart, we’re here to relax and have a break, not continue to work.”

“Well, I know that. I won’t be spending all day every day doing it.” He handed Orym his bag and judging by the weight of it, it was the cameras he’d noticed being packed. “Just one or two days for a couple of hours and the rest of the time I’m all yours.”

“Dorian.” He hated using the serious voice but it was the only way to get Dorian to listen. Instantly, Dorian shrank into himself a little as Orym continued. “Just over a week ago, you got stalked, our home got broken into and you were held hostage. Please, for me, can you put work out of your head for like two days and we’ll discuss it then? Please?”

Dorian wriggled a little uncomfortably. “I…yeah okay. I suppose. I can try. I just…”

“I know, baby, I know you don’t like to keep still when there’s work to be done.” Orym took his hands and squeezed. “But please, for me? Just a couple of days’ break and then we can take as many pictures as you want. Think of it as…scouting out the territory first. You want to pick some nice places, right? We have to have a walk around first to find them.”

“Okay. Alright.” Dorian squeezed his hands back before letting go and wandering back over to the car to continue pulling out their bedding.

Orym sighed a little before stuffing the bag into the tent and following him over to the car. He jumped up onto the step before coaxing Dorian’s head around so he could kiss him swiftly. Dorian immediately abandoned whatever his hands were doing in favour of grabbing Orym by the hips and pulling him in until they were flush, pressing deeper into the kiss. In the end, Orym had to be the one to tap out, drawing back to catch his breath as Dorian simply smirked at him.

“Do you reckon the mattress is blown up enough for us to start putting some of this bedding on it yet?” Dorian asked, jerking his head at the pile of blankets and pillows.

“Probably. And then I think it’s time for a snack and a drink, it was a long drive.”

Dorian grinned. “I know what I’d like to snack on.”

Orym laughed and gently batted away his wandering hands. “Down boy. I promised to make it worth your while and I will. Just a bit longer.”

Dorian pouted but removed his hands in favour of scooping up an armful of blankets, while Orym grabbed the pillows. Once Orym had turned off the pump and closed the valve, together they laid out the sheets onto the mattress and then the cozy amount of blankets they’d brought at Dorian’s insistence, upon finding out it got very cold at night. Dorian was then doubly disappointed when Orym wrangled out of his grasp once again to provide them with actual snacks - trail mix and some juice boxes - sitting on the back of the car in order to take in the beautiful forest around them for a moment now they had unpacked everything. It was peaceful and quiet and exactly what they both needed after the chaos of the past couple of weeks.

“Hey, Orym?” Dorian’s voice dragged him from his thoughts and he looked up at him. “Thank you for…for being what I needed when I needed it…even if I didn’t know I needed it at the time.”

Orym smiled warmly and placed a hand on his thigh. “I could say the same to you. This last year has been…the best I can remember in a long time.”

Dorian smiled bashfully and went back to snacking on his trail mix. Orym let the quiet linger a moment longer before he tucked his finished juice box into the little plastic bag beside him. After dusting off his hands, he hopped down off the back of the car and wandered over to the tent, rolling back the flap into the entranceway so Dorian could watch as he kicked off his shoes and started to open up the tent.

“What are you doing?” Dorian asked curiously as Orym stripped off his jacket and threw it inside.

“Well, I was going to test to see if this mattress was pumped up enough…and it would be much easier if you would come and help me.”

Dorian choked on his mouthful of trail mix before nearly sending the entire bag spilling across the ground in his haste to get to Orym in the tent. By the time Dorian had thrown off his shoes and gotten into the tent, Orym had crawled his way up to the pillows and was sitting cross-legged, waiting for Dorian to join him. It was amusing to watch Dorian try and figure out how to get into the tent, which involved a lot of awkward, unsteady movements as he clearly wasn’t accustomed to the way the air mattress moved about under him as he clambered up it to reach Orym at the other end. But he was ready to intervene should Dorian look like he was about to go sideways off it. Thankfully, he made it to him in one piece and was swift to press Orym back into the pillows, kissing him soundly.

“You wanna take these off for me, sunshine?” Orym asked between kisses, tugging gently on Dorian’s jumper.

Dorian hummed. “Eager, huh?”

“Well, I did make you wait.”

Dorian sat back on his haunches and worked himself out of his jumper and his shirt, tossing them aside. Orym absently traced his fingers up along the familiar lines of Dorian’s body, admiring the sea of blue before him.

“Can I be on top? I have some ideas for what I want to do with you,” Orym asked, knowing full well it was fifty-fifty on how Dorian was feeling. But if he let him, then Orym knew exactly what he wanted to do in order to assure at least a couple of days of Dorian resting.

“...You did say it would be worth my while. Alright then.”

Dorian flopped down onto the mattress beside him, clearly not prepared for when Orym almost got launched off the side as it shifted. Between the two of them, clutching desperately at one another in a panic, Orym managed to stay aboard. When the bed settled again, he shifted to straddle Dorian’s waist and leant over to kiss him slowly, deeply, taking his time to stir Dorian up a little until he was nipping at Orym’s lips in frustration. Orym only chuckled at that and shimmied down a little so their hips lined up and he could still trail his lips down along Dorian’s neck.

“Can I bite you, baby? Can I mark you up?” He asked sweetly, rocking their hips together distractingly as he nibbled gently at his neck. Not enough to bruise just yet as he wouldn’t do that without permission.

“Fuck, shit, yes,” Dorian mumbled, rolling his hips in time with Orym’s. “Yes, please, Orym.”

Instantly, Orym sank his teeth into the side of Dorian’s neck, sucking a healthy-sized hickey into the side of his neck, pulling away for a heartbeat to watch the colour bloom violet against cerulean skin. Then he swapped to the other side to make another one, just as large and unignorable, encompassing part of his collarbone as well. He sank lower again to Dorian’s chest, scattering marks across his pecs, taking the time to make them vividly contrast against his skin like brands, mapping out his territory. His Dorian. Orym then shuffled down to settle between his legs, working a few lighter hickeys into the skin just above his hip bones as he messed with the button and zipper of his jeans, working to pull them apart so he could get his mouth on Dorian and really make him lose his train of thought. Dorian arched under the touch as Orym mouthed at his cock through his underwear and he knew he had him in a perfectly horny state where he wasn’t thinking about much other than getting off.

“Can I take these off?” He asked, curling his fingers into the waistband of his jeans and underwear.

Dorian’s response was to lift his hips so Orym could slide them over his ass and work them down off his legs and toss them aside.

“Now I know you know exactly where the lube is in these bags-” Orym hadn’t even finished the sentence before Dorian had gone practically diving off the side reaching for one of his bags of clothes and promptly put it in Orym’s hand before laying back again. “Next thing, I need you to roll over.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow. “Roll over?”

“Yeah, for me? Please?”

Dorian shrugged a little but rolled over as requested, presenting the long lines of his back and the curve of his ass for Orym to take a moment to enjoy before getting back to the heart of the plan - marking up Dorian. So he settled the lube aside within reach and leant over to press a few soft kisses to Dorian’s back, savouring the way he shivered under the lightest of touches, before repeating the path with bites, nibbling at the skin until it turned dark and burned like stars across his back. Then he shifted further down and took a moment to appreciate Dorian’s ass, massaging it for a moment before he promptly leant down and nipped at the left cheek. Dorian started and looked back over his shoulder at him, a little wide-eyed.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist. Thought it was a peach.”

Dorian snorted and reached back to smack him a little. Orym only took that as encouragement and this time bit him properly, earning a gasp and a roll of hips as Dorian rocked against the sheets. Orym had enough forethought to quickly suspend for a moment to scrounge out a towel and coax Dorian’s hips up to slide it under so they wouldn’t make too much of a mess on the sheets. Then he was back to it, leaving a constellation of marks across the globes of his ass before grabbing two handfuls and parting them so he could lick a stripe over Dorian’s hole, startling a yelp out of him.

“Too much?” Orym asked, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs as Dorian flushed indigo.

“No…no…just surprised me…” He bit his lip hesitantly. “I…not too much though? I’m…kinda close and I really want you to…to fuck me…”

Orym smiled warmly. “Okay, sunshine, let’s get you prepped then.”

He pressed a kiss to the small arch of Dorian’s back as he reached for the lube to pop open the cap and smear it over his fingers. Dorian buried his face into the pillows as Orym opened him up carefully, making sure he was stretched properly, lingering on each finger until Dorian was rocking back against him, trying to hurry his pace. But he kept steady until he removed his fingers entirely and coaxed Dorian’s hips up a little higher for a better angle. He left one more purple bruise on Dorian’s lower back for good measure, before slowly pressing his cock in. Dorian moaned softly and pushed back against him, as Orym fucked him open until he’d bottomed out and they were flush once more. He paused for a moment, wanting to let Dorian adjust, but the genasi had other ideas and was already in motion again, trying to bounce himself on Orym’s cock.

“Move, please. Darling, please.” Dorian rarely begged, but whenever he did Orym couldn’t deny him anything.

“Okay, sweetheart, I got you.”

Orym readjusted his grip and snapped his hips forward, earning him a pleased groan from Dorian. So he did it again and again until Dorian matched pace and they met with eager frenzy, both lost to the sensation of each other's bodies, familiar yet different every time. By this point, it was a familiar dance, and he knew every single noise and soft exhale of air Dorian made right in the moments before he crashed and came hard, spilling onto the towel and tensing down around Orym like a vice. He fucked Dorian through his orgasm diligently, chasing his own end and doubling over as he came, pressing his face into the small of Dorian’s back as he shuddered. It took a moment for him to drag his sense back into his body and by that point, Dorian was already sagging under him. So he pulled out carefully and cleaned himself off with the corner of the towel he could access. Orym then tucked himself back into his pants and shifted to recline back against the pillows next to Dorian, who looked utterly, pleasantly and properly fucked out. Dorian hummed as he turned his face towards Orym, who stroked his cheek gently, coaxing him back to this plane of existence.

“Did I do good?”

Dorian nodded sleepily before crawling over to lay his head on Orym’s chest. “Real good. Really, really good.”

Orym chuckled and combed some of Dorian’s hair back off his face. “You gunna be able to walk the trails with me tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Dorian yawned a little. “I mean…gotta find some nice places to take pictures after all.”

Dorian then paused, as if something had just occurred to him, before he sat up and rounded on Orym as his hands flew to his neck.

“Orym…you…bruises! I’m covered in hickeys!”

“I can see that; I put them there because you begged so nicely for them?”

Dorian threw up his hands. “I can’t take pictures for work covered in hickeys, Orym!!!

“Baby, they’ll only take a day or so to fade and then we can-”

Dorian’s expression snapped into fury.

“That’s not the fucking point!” He seized one of the pillows and was on his knees faster than Orym could react, swinging it at him angrily and hitting him square in the chest. “You knew exactly what you were doing!! Absolute asshole! You fucking prick, Orym!!”

Orym took the next few blows of the pillow with raised arms. “Dor, I just wanted to make you feel good! And to get you to rest, sweetheart-”

“Don’t you fucking sweetheart me!” Dorian suddenly had him by the front of the shirt and hurled him across the bed towards the door. “Get out!! Get fucking out!!”

Dorian threw him far enough that he toppled off the end of the mattress and ended up practically rolling out the door. He righted himself just as Dorian hurled the pillow at him, though by the time it reached him through the tent flaps, he was able to just catch it. Still, the look on Dorian’s face he caught in the instant between the open flaps, anguished and tear-stained, hurt worse than anything Dorian could have thrown at him. And then the stifled sniffling reached him and his heart broke a little. He’d fucked up big time. He’d only wanted to make sure Dorian rested, if only for a couple of days, but instead, he might have just ruined everything. Anxiety gnawed at his insides as he propped the pillow up against the inside of the entranceway to the tent before tugging his shoes on. He knew better than anyone that Dorian needed time to process and would approach him when he was ready. Until then, he supposed he’d…make a start on dinner.

--

When Dorian finally appeared out of the tent, hours later and dressed again, Orym had made their little area into a proper camp. He’d collected a bit of firewood, dug a small fire pit and set up the stove pot and their camp chairs. He tried not to pay too much attention as Dorian joined him, settling into his chair and wiping his eyes absently. Orym was most of the way through reheating the soup he’d prepared earlier in the week and finished up with his stirring before properly taking a look at Dorian. He knew he’d been crying, the noises he’d heard earlier were undeniable, and from what he could tell, Dorian had also been chewing on his lip, the bottom one cracked and torn bloody with worry. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He hadn’t meant to hurt him like this. Slowly, he collected up the small pile of flowers he’d found while searching for firewood and carefully stood before stepping over to Dorian.

“These…these are for you,” He offered out the small bundle of flowers.

Dorian looked at the flowers, then up to Orym, before he gingerly accepted them and held them in front of him. Orym took that as a good sign and carefully took another measured step forward before kneeling beside Dorian’s chair.

“Dorian, I...I am so sorry for what I did. I didn’t…I didn’t think it through. I deeply regret my actions, even though I tried to do them with the best of intentions. I hurt you badly and I never intended for that to happen. I just thought it might encourage you to rest, to- to have a break and instead, I only caused you to suffer.”

Dorian continued to stare down at the flowers, so Orym kept talking.

“I’ll sleep in the car tonight so you can have as much space as you need. I am very sorry for tricking you and I shouldn’t have done that. I should have thought it through more.”

There was a long moment where Dorian continued to examine the flowers before his shoulders dropped.

“You manipulated me.”

“I did.” Orym agreed without hesitation.

“You abused your knowledge of something intimate about me to get what you wanted.”

“Yes. I did.”

Dorian swallowed. “Kinda sounds like what I did to you when we argued about Will.”

Orym blinked, surprised.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m still mad and upset…but I understand why you did it. Honestly, I might have done the same thing in your position.” Dorian sighed and finally looked at him. “Please don’t sleep in the car tonight, I’ll be terribly lonely without you.”

Orym nodded through the tears that threatened to break ranks. “Okay.”

“You have to make it up to me, though,” Dorian said as he tucked his little bouquet of flowers into the drink holder on his chair. “I expect you to help me find all the prettiest places on this mountainside.”

“Of course. Whatever you want, Dorian.”

He frowned, lips pressed into a thin line. “The first thing I really want is for you to call me something other than Dorian.”

Orym sniffed. “Okay, sweetheart.”

Dorian instantly melted and sank out of his chair to kneel before Orym. He only hesitated for a moment before dragging him into a tight hug that Orym sank into willingly, grabbing fistfuls of the back of Dorian’s jacket. He couldn’t help the tears that spilled down his cheeks as Dorian buried his face into the curve of Orym’s neck and he could feel the hot tears welling up there. This was another mistake that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” Orym whispered, clutching onto him tightly as they rocked gently from side to side. “I’ll never do it again, I promise, even if it takes me the rest of my life to prove it.”

Dorian hiccuped a sob. “I believe you. Gods, I believe you. I love you. I love you so much it hurts.”

“I love you too, Dor. I’ll love you till all the stars blot out and there's nothing but the sun and the moons.”

Dorian chuckled wetly and pulled back to hold Orym’s face between his hands. “Are you trying to win me back over by being romantic?”

“That depends, is it working?” Orym asked with a half smile that had Dorian shaking his head fondly.

“Keep going and maybe it will.”

Chapter Text

And if you have a minute, why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So, why don't we go, somewhere only we know?

Riding on the coattails of Orym's misstep yesterday - and he would forgive him one way or another Dorian knew that - the next morning started out little better. Dorian woke, anxious and paranoid, firstly from the dream he'd had, which was now draining down the pipes of his subconscious, forgotten but leaving the lingering doubts and worry in its wake. And secondly, he couldn't stop checking his phone for updates on what people online were saying about the whole ordeal. When Orym roused beside him, leaning over to press a kiss good morning to him, he was scrolling through his news feed. Then while Orym made them breakfast over the campfire, he opened up several tabs of the blogs covering the story and kept refreshing to see what new comments popped up, even through the declining signal. And finally, when Orym poked his head back in on him to see if he was ready for their first day of bushwalking, he was still only half-dressed, chewing on his nails, scanning through gossip blogs to see what was being said.

“Dor.”

He snapped his attention to Orym, standing in the doorway of the tent, arms crossed.

“Sweetheart, put down the phone, please, you’ve been focused on it all morning.”

“I know, I know, I just…” He sighed. “People are saying things about me and you and us and it makes me anxious.”

Orym stepped into the tent and reached over to comb a hand through Dorian’s hair. “You’re only going to make it worse by looking, you know?”

“I can’t help it…” Dorian sighed heavily. “Orym I don’t know how to switch off from all this. It’s all I’ve done for the last few years of my life.”

Orym hummed thoughtfully.

“Here, can I?”

He offered out his hand for the phone and Dorian hesitated for a moment before handing it over. Orym then turned it off completely and before Dorian could protest, he stuffed it deep into the bottom of his bag.

“For the week, let's leave it off,” Orym suggested, settling on the corner of the bed next to Dorian. “If anyone needs us, they can reach me or the satellite phone. And if you find you need something to focus on, then focus on me instead. I mean, I have a lot to make up to you after all.”

Dorian’s lip trembled a little before he shifted around, laying a hand on Orym’s chest before shoving him back onto the mattress and moving to hover over him.

“I wanna cover you with marks.”

“Okay,” Orym said looking up at him like he hung all the stars in the sky.

“And…and I wanna fuck your mouth.”

“Alright.” His expression didn’t waver.

“I want you to come without me touching you otherwise.”

“I…will certainly try for you.” Orym traced his hands up along Dorian’s thighs. “Is this a list just for now, or are they goals for the whole week.”

Dorian raked a hand down through Orym’s hair, feeling him shiver under him.

“Just for now. So get undressed for me.”

He sat back in order to watch Orym strip. He could see that familiar glint of determination in Orym’s eye as he settled back, resting his wrists above his head - the perfect picture of submission. There was a part of him that wanted to punish Orym a little for tricking him, to leave him here naked and waiting and wanting, but he also still understood the reasons behind his logic. And he knew Orym wanted to make it right. So he smothered Orym with his body and proceeded to cover him almost completely from neck to knee in hickie's front and back before fucking his mouth, a hand tangled loosely in his hair. Even with the air of roughness he wanted to put on, Dorian was still careful with Orym, knowing exactly where to pull up short to avoid accidentally choking him or hurting him. And in the end, he got his third wish too; Orym came with a shudder right after Dorian finished in his mouth. He then collapsed down beside Orym, both of them taking the moment to catch their wayward breath.

But there were only a few brief moments of peace before Dorian felt his hands twitching, nervously tangling together. Orym noticed as well and reached across to slide his own hand in between, tangling Dorian’s fingers between his own.

“Why don’t you get out your camera and we’ll go on that nature walk? You can take some photos of the scenery and we’ll figure out what kind of photoshoot you want to do in a couple of days' time when those bruises go down.”

“Yeah…okay.” Dorian agreed softly, squeezing Orym’s hand tightly.

He sighed softly. Focus on Orym. Focus on his break.

--

The bush track that Orym picked for the day was stunningly beautiful. It was actually rather easy to forget about not having his phone between all the walking uphill, viewing the scenery and taking lots and lots of photos of absolutely everything. Orym even let him take a couple of selfies of them together. At the top of the trail, they stopped and had a picnic lunch that Orym had prepared for them and Dorian made notes in his journal about framing and lighting and how they could do a shoot up there with the backdrop of the mountain ranges. He also pointed out to Orym the different interesting places they could see from up there and Orym made some notes of his own about the trails they could follow in the next couple of days to reach them. The only time Dorian complained was about the trip back down; his legs not used to this type of exercise.

Orym was also very helpful all day, with lots of fun facts about the area they were in, all the kinds of animals they could see running about and even some good suggestions about the shoot he wanted to do at the trailhead and what lingerie he could wear for it. He also kept telling extremely bad dad jokes that had Dorian cracking up at the worst of times. Several times on the trip back to camp in the afternoon, Dorian nearly tripped as he giggled and cringed in earnest at how bad some of them were. By the end of the day, he was sure there would come a point where he grew completely sick of them, but every time Orym caught him off guard and he found himself embarrassed to be laughing at them. The worst of the bunch came around the campfire that night as Orym cooked their saveloys in the pot over the open flames.

"Alright, these weenies are about to blow their load," Orym said with such an adorably straight face that Dorian couldn't help but laugh.

"You're such a dick," Dorian said with a shake of his head, accepting the sausage onto his plate with his bread roll.

"No, these aren't dicks but I can see where you got confused." He waved one around with the tongs, letting it flop all over the place.

Dorian snorted into his food and Orym grinned wickedly, even when Dorian reached across to slap him on the shoulder.

"Enough! Dick! Jokes!" Dorian giggled as Orym did. "I'm trying to eat and there are children in the next camp over."

Orym huffed in mock offence. "They'd probably love my jokes. I’ve got a real dad-like appeal, Laudna says."

Dorian hummed and looked down at his food. That was something he hadn’t considered before. He’d nearly asked this man to marry him and yet he didn’t know whether Orym wanted children or not. But there was no better time to ask, so he did.

"Is…is that something you would want someday?"

Orym blinked at him, confused.

"Children, Orym. Do you want children someday?"

"Oh…" Orym looked back at his little campfire and poked absently at the flames with his stick. "I mean. I never really gave it much consideration. Will really wanted kids that were ours and I was willing to do that for him."

"But that doesn't tell me if you want them."

Orym scratched his cheek. "I…don't know? I mean, I can’t deny I've thought about wanting to foster older kids, you know, the ones who could really use the love and attention, but I wouldn't-"

"That sounds perfect." Dorian reached across to smooth out the crease between his eyebrows. "I think I'd prefer something like that to a baby, to be honest. Babies are hard work and far too many early mornings for my taste. Besides, there are plenty of kids already out there who could use a good, solid dad like you. And then, of course, a fun dad like me."

Orym pouted. "I can be a fun dad."

"Of course you can, darling, I'm only teasing." Dorian pinched his cheek fondly before going back to his dinner.

Orym stared down into the flames of the campfire for a moment longer. "You know, maybe if both our bio dads had been better parents, we wouldn't have turned out this way."

Dorian snorted. "What, traumatised?"

"No. Gay."

Dorian choked on his mouthful and Orym had to thump him on the back before he could right himself.

"You are the worst, Orym."

Orym gave him a shit-eating grin. "Another hot weenie?"

Dorian shook his head and set aside his plate. "No. Come here so I can kiss you, you fucking homosexual."

Orym laughed and abandoned his tongs and saveloys to accept Dorian’s smothering of kisses. Once he was settled back in his own chair, his clothes and hair still a little askew, Orym fluttered his eyes at Dorian.

"What's with the kid talk, anyway? Planning on proposing to me, are you?"

Dorian took a sip of his soft drink. "I add six months every time you ask, so not for…another five to six years yet at least."

"...I'll just go back to my weenie jokes, shall I?" Orym suggested, holding up a saveloy in his tongs again.

"Gods, please no."

--

On the second day of their trip, Orym led them down the trail into the ravine Dorian had seen from the mountain the day previous. There they found a river and followed it to its source, which turned out to be a glittering, beautiful waterfall tumbling down from the mountains above and a surrounding small lake. Dorian had eagerly snapped some pictures and made notes, plotting and planning the exact photoshoot he wanted to do there, down to which lingerie pieces he could wear. Orym warned him that the water would be startlingly cold but Dorian wasn’t deterred; he could deal with that on the day. They'd then had their prepared picnic lunch by the lake before heading back along the trail and further following another, journeying back up the mountain aways to find a small clearing, which Orym remarked would be perfect for stargazing and that one night they should come back for it.

Dorian had taken it all in by lying out on the ground and staring up at the clouds overhead as they rolled by.

“Can I ask you something weird, Orym?”

“Sure.” Orym laid out on the ground next to him, so their heads were together. “What’s on your mind?”

“When we talk about the future, what do you imagine you’re still doing for work? Like, do you think you’ll still be teaching pole in five years? Ten years?”

Orym hummed thoughtfully. “At the moment? Yeah. Yeah, I think I still got a few more years left in me of teaching pole.”

“But what if you couldn’t do it any more? Like if you broke a bone and it never healed right and you couldn’t anymore without it hurting you.”

“Well, if that happened, I guess…I have options. Chet’s offered for me to come work with him as an apprentice a couple of times so I could always take him up on that. Or I’d go work with Letters and Ash at the shelter.”

Dorian nodded. “That’s good, then.”

“...this isn’t about me, though, is it?”

“Maybe not.” Dorian turned his head to find Orym already watching him. “But I’m…I’m not ready to discuss it yet.”

Orym nodded and raised a hand to stroke his cheek. “I’ll be waiting when you are.”

“Thank you.”

That night in camp, Orym ended up handing over his phone to Dorian as Opal kept calling him, complaining he was responding too slowly to her rapid-fire texts asking how Dorian was going. They ended up talking for over an hour while Orym kept their dinner from burning, but afterwards, while he’d apologised for taking so long, Orym had simply smiled at him and told him it was alright. He’d also promised that Dorian could have his phone at any time he wanted, provided it was only used to talk to their friends and not stress over the gossip boards. Dorian made that promise easily, stating he’d told Opal he’d call her again in a day or so, so he wanted to keep what phone rights he did have. Orym had laughed at that and then served up dinner.

--

The third day, Dorian woke extremely sore, achy and more than a little bitchy from the last two days of walking long distances when he wasn’t used to it. So instead, they stayed in camp until after midday, when Orym made them a warm lunch. Mid-afternoon, they headed out on a short, close-by trail that circled through the area around them. As they wandered, Orym gave him a guided tour of the local flora and fauna and Dorian took photos of the things he was pointing out. They took a lot of breaks, at Dorian’s insistence, so he could rest his legs. More often than not, he also pulled Orym in with the presumption of kissing him better, only to have it end in Orym wriggling free before there was an indecent exposure incident. Back in the camp that evening, however, Dorian was not too tired to drag Orym into the tent with him and take what he wanted.

“I was thinking about something today,” Orym said quietly as they lay there together in the afterglow. “You said when you left home, you moved straight to the city. Does that mean you’ve never seen the beach before either?”

Dorian frowned and considered. “Well…yeah. There are no beaches at the Squall.”

Orym nodded thoughtfully. “Next romantic week away, I’m taking you to the beach. There are some really lovely ones out east that I think you’ll adore.”

“You just want to see me in a swimsuit,” Dorian teased as Orym grinned.

“It’s my privilege as your boyfriend.”

--

The fourth day started out with a phone call from Chetney on the satellite phone, making sure they were both still alive. While Orym reassured him that they were fine, Dorian took a stab at making breakfast, nearly burning his fingers in the process. Thankfully, Orym intervened before there was any loss of limb and saved their slightly smoky breakfast. Afterwards, Dorian checked the state of the bruises over his body, more than a little annoyed to find it would probably be another day or so before they’d be faded enough for him to do anything. Orym had apologised quietly again, but Dorian waved him off and just asked that he pick the route for the day. He’d sulked for a little bit after that, as he’d gotten dressed. He’d all but forgiven Orym but that didn’t mean he still couldn’t be a little petty about it.

Orym had then surprised him with the most beautiful nature walk he could find, leading them through forest across fairly flat ground out into a field of what Orym informed him was old volcanic rock. Dorian spent the next hour or so, hopping from rock to rock, taking photos and pointing out the funny shapes they formed. He was especially proud when he found a thick tree stump sticking out from between two large rocks of roughly the same size and asked Orym to go stand in front of them with his dick out so he could compare. Orym had refused on principle alone. Dorian later pinned him to one of the trees on the hike back to camp and sucked him off, teasing him for being jealous of a tree trunk, which he vehemently denied the entire time.

Over dinner that night they talked, Dorian properly letting himself loose, cackling loudly as they told dumb stories of their youth back and forth while they roasted marshmallows over the open flames. And while he’d already heard more than a few stories of Orym and his time with Will and Derrig, there were still plenty more stories to be told and he listened to each one Orym was willing to tell. At least until his curiosity got the better of him.

“Can I ask…how did Will propose to you?”

He knew it was a risk to ask, watching as Orym’s eyes widened a little before he turned his gaze onto the flames, thoughtfully.

“It was his twentieth birthday. In the middle of the party, he swept me away to a quiet corner and before I knew what was happening, he was on one knee, asking me to marry him. Said he’d been waiting all evening for him to be of age and that if he’d had his way, instead of a birthday party, we’d be having a wedding right now.”

Orym wiped at his eyes absently and laughed. “I told him I’d have to think about it.”

“How long did you make him wait?”

“...about half a minute before I jumped him and said yes. We were married less than a week later with only our families in attendance.”

“That was…quick.”

Orym shrugged. “We were young, dumb and in love. I’ll always be glad we didn’t wait. Being married to Will, even for the short amount of time we got, every moment was worth its weight in gold.”

Dorian nodded thoughtfully.

“But, you see what I mean when I say I don’t need anything terribly special?” Orym reached across and placed a hand on his arm warmly. “Just having you is special enough for me.”

Dorian smiled, covering Orym’s hand with his own. “You just added another six months to your waiting time.”

“Ah, goddamn it,” Orym cursed and Dorian laughed loudly.

--

Waking up on the fifth day, Dorian was up an hour before Orym, rifling through his bags for the lingerie he wanted and putting on make-up to cover the last reminders of the fading bruises. Orym didn't say a word and just ventured out to make them some food. As soon as breakfast was over and bags were packed, Orym led them down the trail into the ravine and they ventured along the riverside. The early morning sunlight danced along the lake as they came upon it and Dorian was immediately a whirlwind of action, setting up his camera on the tripod and the backing light he’d brought. Orym was quiet throughout the process, taking directions where given but otherwise staying out of the way, letting Dorian do his thing. Once the camera was set up, Dorian went about changing into his lingerie, extremely pleased at the way Orym’s eyes widened as he took in the strings of pearls and lace draped across him, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Not that Orym needed to imagine; he already knew Dorian’s body as intimately as his own.

However, the real issue came when Dorian took a step into the water and discovered - just like Orym had said - that it was downright freezing. The next few steps into it were pure, instant regret, but he was committed and waded in until it was up to his mid-thighs before turning back to look at Orym, who was clearly holding back laughter.

“It’s really refreshing,” Dorian insisted, reaching down to scoop water into his hands and splashing it over himself, fighting down the shiver as the droplets hit his skin. “You should come join me in here afterwards.”

“I think, what I will do…” Orym said, tugging off his backpack to pull out a towel he’d packed. “...is be prepared for when you’re done in there. Otherwise, you’re going to catch a cold.”

“I wouldn’t be cold if you were in here with me.” Dorian waggled his eyebrows at his boyfriend.

Orym shook his head fondly. “Let’s just take these pictures and get you out before you get sick, okay?”

Dorian pouted but relented.

All things considered, the photoshoot was a success. After a while, Dorian adjusted to the temperature and found it reasonably comfortable posing in the water and splashing around in the shallows - at one point completely submerging himself to crest out and have his little mermaid moment. All the while Orym set up the camera as instructed to take the shots he wanted. Dorian did have to teach Orym how to set up the burst-fire shots, but otherwise, he was a very helpful little cameraman. Once he’d taken a few dozen or so shots, Dorian sat in the shallows with the towel wrapped around his shoulders, looking through the photos and picking out a few of his favourites so far. Meanwhile, Orym fed him a sandwich or two and rubbed his shoulders thoughtfully, giving his opinions where prompted.

Then they ventured down closer to the waterfall and Dorian helped Orym set up the tripod and the timer again before stripping off his towel and jumping back in the water of the falls. He couldn’t help the yelp as the water stung him with its chill, ignoring Orym’s snickers from behind the camera. Dorian then made it his mission to be as sexy as possible just to rile him up, pulling out all his best flirtatious poses and showing off all his best angles, despite knowing that between shots he looked like a drowned rat with flat hair. At least he was confident that more than a few of these shots would be usable later with a little editing magic. With that in mind, he soon jumped back into the lake with a whoop, surfacing to Orym’s laughter ringing out. Dorian then swam over to his side, leaning against the rocks as Orym crouched down to meet him.

“You know, I’ve heard stories about creatures like you,” Orym grinned, reaching down to cup his cheek and Dorian nuzzled into the touch. “Some say you’re terrible monsters who lure good men to their deaths.”

“And what do you believe?” Dorian asked as Orym ran his thumb down over his bottom lip.

“I think you’re just misunderstood.”

Dorian laughed before hoisting himself up out of the water to sit on the rocky edge, hooking an arm around Orym’s neck and dragging him down into a filthy kiss. Orym hummed and trailed his hand down the column of Dorian’s throat before across the pearls that made up the top half of his bikini.

“We should head back to camp soon, get you warmed up again,” Orym murmured, tracing the goosebumps along Dorian’s forearm.

“And how do you intend to do that?” Dorian queried as Orym swept the towel around his shoulders and effectively covered him up.

“With my mouth and my tongue,” Orym said with a cocky grin, helping Dorian to stand. “That is, if I’m allowed to?”

“So long as you keep your teeth to yourself this time,” Dorian teased, leaning down to kiss him. “Let’s pack up and head back. It’s freezing out of the water.”

Between the two of them, it didn’t take long to pack up the tripod and camera. Dorian also took the chance to put the layers of his clothes back on over the top, though the chill still remained with him despite the hike back to camp. And he knew that Orym could tell, what with the shivers that raked through him every so often as they walked. Still, once they’d made it safely back to camp and after dumping their bags in the entranceway, he let Orym strip him down to nothing and put his hot mouth anywhere and everywhere he wanted until the temperature inside the tent was steamy and he was coming on Orym’s clever tongue. Ever the gentleman, Orym then made dinner for them both and they went through the photos they’d taken at the lake before retreating to bed to rest for the evening.

--

The sixth day started quietly, as it was their last full day before they had to head home. After breakfast, they headed up the trail to the mountain top they’d walked to on the first day and underneath his clothes, Dorian had worn his brand new set of golden lingerie, which he’d then posed in with the backdrop of the mountains behind him. Meanwhile, Orym kept track of the camera and kept pointedly not looking directly at Dorian until the shoot was finished - cut short by the arrival of some other visitors. Dorian didn’t mind though; he’d gotten some good shots and had a chance to rile Orym up a bit - so much so that when they returned to camp in the late afternoon, Orym had jumped him, dragging him into the tent so he could remove said lingerie with his teeth.

“Orym,” Dorian drew absent patterns in Orym’s chest hair as they lay together, warm and content. “We should go stargazing tonight. We can pack a picnic and a blanket and some of those LED lights and just…make the most of our last night here.”

“That…sounds pretty great actually.” Orym hoisted himself up thoughtfully. “I think we still have enough bread for some sandwiches. I can make them up now if you wanna find those lights and pick some comfy blankets to take. Just remember, we have to carry them there and back.”

Dorian nodded. “Got it.”

Once Orym had pressed a kiss to him, dressed and left the tent, Dorian folded several blankets into his backpack, along with the LED lights. And after a quick head check to make sure Orym was well and truly distracted, he dug out the small box and made sure the ring was still there before tucking it into the front pocket of his bag.

He had his plan of attack. Now all that was left was to actually do it.

Chapter Text

We were made to be
Nothing more than this
Finding magic in all the smallest things
The way we notice, that's what really matters
Let's make tonight go on and on and on
Celestial

They waited until sunset to head out, so they still had some light of day to travel by, though Orym made sure their torches were fully charged before they left so they could have a safe trip back afterwards. The last thing either of them needed was to roll an ankle or break a leg on the last night of their trip. Especially Dorian. They arrived at the clearing just shy of nightfall, working in tandem to lay out the blanket for them to sit on before Dorian arranged the lights romantically and Orym unpacked their meal. Orym settled himself down on the blanket to wait, expecting Dorian to settle down beside him, but was instead surprised when Dorian slid himself to sit behind him, slotting Orym between his legs and tucking the spare blanket up over the both of them. He wasn’t going to complain about being cuddled, though and shuffled back to get comfortable against Dorian’s chest before turning his eyes skyward.

“It’s beautiful out here,” He said with a smile, accepting the sandwich Dorian passed him. “You don’t get stars like this in the city.”

Dorian hummed and slipped his arms around Orym warmly, curling into him. This was a perfect way to end their week, out under the stars and the low-hanging moons that provided only a little more light than the soft glowing LEDs around them. As Dorian huddled in closer, Orym took the opportunity between mouthfuls to point out the constellations he knew, the tricks he learned from Chetney on how to use them to always find true north and to fondly look up at Catha, whispering a silent hello to Will. Dorian listened quietly, occasionally asking questions about the stars, but otherwise seemed content just to snack and snuggle with him.

“Darling, how much do you love me?” Dorian eventually whispered into the back of Orym’s neck.

A little taken off guard, Orym considered for a long moment.

“I love you…more than I did yesterday but less than I will tomorrow.”

“Mhmm.”

“My love for you will be written in the bones of me long after I’m dead and buried.”

“A bit morose, Orym.”

He laughed. “Okay…how about…how does one count all the stars in the sky? It’s an endless expanse, there’s no final answer; it’s infinite, just like my love for you.”

Dorian tucked in closer, his breath warm on the back of Orym’s neck. “I think I like that one the best.”

“Good.” Orym stroked his thumb over the back of Dorian’s hand. “How much do you love me?”

“...there….there’s no depth to the ocean or distance far enough away in space to stretch far enough to show you how much I love you.”

Orym hummed contently. “That sounds like a lot.”

“That’s because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

His heart gave a familiar, yet painful squeeze.

“I’m honoured to be the one to hold your heart, Dorian.”

Dorian nuzzled into the back of Orym’s head. “And I’m honoured to hold yours, Orym.”

They fell silent, content in each other's company for a long moment, watching the twinkle of the stars above before Orym spoke again, holding out his hand.

“Can you pass me another sandwich, please?”

“Sure.”

However, the item placed into his hand was not, in fact, the sandwich he’d requested. It was too hard, with sharp corners and the weight of it suddenly had his head snapping to look, his heart jumping around wildly in his chest. Even in the low light, he could make out the little black ring box, perfectly placed in his palm and open up to reveal the ring within, letting it shine in the moonlight. His free hand covered his mouth. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been such a shock, but after how they’d started out the week and the mess they’d left behind in the city, he’d thought Dorian might have waited longer. But that was part of why he loved Dorian so much, always finding new ways to surprise him with his love.

Speaking of, Dorian gently coaxed Orym to shuffle around so they could face one another and he could take the ring from the box, holding it thoughtfully in front of him.

“I thought about waiting longer,” Dorian admitted softly. “But I made you wait so long for a kiss and then I made you wait so long for my love. I didn’t want you to have to wait for this, not when you knew it was coming.”

Orym couldn’t explain the hot tears that suddenly dripped down his face, but Dorian didn’t question them, just wiped them away soothingly with his free hand.

“Orym, you have so fundamentally changed my life that the thought of it continuing without you by my side is too painful to bear. I love you so much that it aches every day…but I know that burden is easier to bear with someone else helping to carry the load. I would be honoured if you would let me do that for you for the rest of our lives. And maybe sometimes I’ll let you help me carry mine.”

Orym couldn’t help the wet chuckle that escaped him as Dorian took his hand.

“I don’t ever want to be without you. So what I’m asking is…Orym, will you marry me?”

Orym was already nodding before Dorian had even finished the question. “Yes. Yes, I will marry you.

Dorian let out a shaky breath. “Oh good…good…”

“Did you think I was going to say no?” Orym teased softly as Dorian carefully slid the ring onto his finger, finally settling it home at long last. There was a little tug at his heart, at seeing a ring on that finger again, but it didn’t hurt. It felt right.

“No, I just…I mean, everyone said you would say yes but…nerves.”

Orym reached up to cradle his face, smiling warmly. “Who’s everyone?”

“Cyrus, Dariax…your mother.”

Orym’s eyes widened. “You…you spoke to my ma?”

“Yeah…I wanted…I wanted her to know and maybe a little bit so I could get her blessings…so by extension your sisters and Nell know as well.”

“Oh.”

“They’ll probably be expecting a call soon. I didn’t tell them when exactly I was planning on doing it, but they knew it would be soon.”

Orym grinned a little and dragged Dorian down into a kiss. “You really thought of everything for this. I am so lucky to have such a thoughtful fiancé.”

Dorian shivered under him and he grinned a little wider. “That’s…um…that’s a thing now, isn’t it. We’re…fiancé’s…”

“I can stick with ‘my boyfriend’ for a bit longer if you need time to adjust.”

Dorian shook his head. “No…no, I like it. Orym, my fiancé. It’s got a nice ring to it, I think.”

“I’m the one who got a nice ring though,” Orym joked.

Dorian let out a huff of a noise before Orym found himself suddenly being tipped back onto the blanket, laid out so Dorian could hover over him.

“Honestly, what am I going to do with you?”

Orym hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe give me a treat for being so good and saying yes to marrying you.”

Dorian chuckled. “You think you deserve a treat after all the bad jokes and misbehaving this week?”

“I only misbehave so you’ll retaliate.” Orym reached up to cup his cheeks. “Besides, I can’t think of a more perfectly romantic way to end this evening than having you out here under the stars.”

There was a pause where Dorian smiled warmly at him before crashing down onto Orym like a meteor, sealing their lips together and wrapping him up in his arms. Orym kissed back just as fiercely, tangling his fingers into the loose strands of Dorian’s hair and wrapping his legs up around his waist as Dorian slid their hips neatly together. By now, they were experts at this, knowing exactly where and how to touch to send the other wild with pleasure. Orym knew if he tugged just enough on Dorian’s hair, the genasi would bite on his lip. So he did so, and like clockwork, Dorian responded, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth before going for the buttons on Orym’s flannel, trying to be effective without ripping them off. With that done, Dorian parted the fabric and sank down, pressing warm kisses along Orym’s sternum that he arched into. Dorian then made short work of the front of his pants, parting them open to mouth at Orym’s stirring cock. He shivered and tightened his grip on Dorian’s hair as the genasi tugged down the front of his underwear and pressed a few chaste kisses to the head of his cock. Then he paused.

“I…didn’t bring any lube…” Dorian said, with dawning horror and Orym couldn’t help but laugh.

“You mean to tell me, that you, Dorian Storm, the man who famously brought condoms and lube to a pole session with the intent to seduce me, the same man who keeps it in the drawer of his coffee table, didn’t think to bring lube on a romantic evening with the man he was going to propose too?”

“I mean! Proposing takes a lot of brain power!”

Orym snorted and shook his head. “You’re lucky that I thought to bring some then. Front pocket of my backpack.”

Dorian went digging in the aforementioned pocket and produced the lube.

“Why, Orym, did you intend to seduce me out here in the wilderness?”

“I mean…does it count as seduction if I was going to brat my way into it?” Orym giggled, watching as Dorian sat up thoughtfully. Then he grinned wickedly and tugged Orym up and into his lap.

“If you’re going to brat, I’m going to make you beg for it,” He announced, leaning back on his hands. “I wanna watch you rock yourself on my cock until you’re hard and needy and only then will I consider doing something about it.”

Orym shivered at the conviction in Dorian’s voice. And by the smug smile on his face, he knew Dorian was in this for the long haul as well. He would have to work if he wanted it and he did want it. Seeing as they were completely alone out here, he stood and shucked off both his pants and underwear, finding himself blushing as Dorian’s eyes trailed down his body, lingering on his half-hard cock before back up to meet his gaze as Orym knelt between his legs.

“Can I?” He asked, gently trailing his hands across Dorian’s hips.

“Just the pants,” Dorian ordered and Orym obeyed, coaxing his jeans down and off to join the pile of clothes he was making.

Orym then straddled Dorian’s hips once more, slotting them together with a little moan. Dorian hummed as Orym began to rock against him, feeling both their cocks fill with interest until they were both hard and wanting. But Dorian still made no move to touch him.

“Dorian,” He whined softly, bracing himself against Dorian’s chest. “Baby, I’m cold, I need you to warm me up.”

“You seem to be doing that just fine on your own,” Dorian hummed, thrusting his hips up once against Orym’s to tease, breaking his rhythm with a scattering moan. “Just work harder and you’ll warm right up.”

Orym whimpered and let his forehead fall forward against Dorian’s shoulder, speeding up the rocking of his hips and clutching hold to the front of Dorian’s jumper.

“Wanna be full of you, please, Dor. Sweetheart, please…”

Dorian lent his head right down next to Orym’s and murmured against his ear. “Hm, what was that?”

“Please.”

Another thrust up against him broke his rhythm. “Keep going. You’re doing so good, darling.”

Dorian shifted a little and he heard the cap of the lube pop before something cold dripped onto his tailbone and he flinched.

“Shhh, I got you, baby; just keep rocking for me.”

Dorian soothed two fingers down, gently smearing the lube through his cheeks, and teased at his hole. Orym groaned into Dorian’s shoulder and sped up his movements, rocking against Dorian’s cock and rubbing back against his fingers. With each motion, Dorian began to work his fingers in deeper, until Orym was caught between them and his cock, only able to grind rather than fully rock like he wanted to. He whined softly then almost immediately choked on a moan as Dorian curled his fingers teasingly.

“That’s it,” Dorian cooed, nipping at his ear. “You look so pretty like this, all hot and bothered for me and unable to do anything about it.”

“Dor, please,” Orym whimpered and was only rewarded by another thrust and curl of Dorian’s fingers. “Wanna be fucked by you…please.”

“You going to be noisy for me?” Dorian asked, coaxing Orym to keep rolling their hips together.

“Yes…yes…”

“And you’re going to wait for me to come first, like a gentleman?”

Orym swallowed. “Yes.”

Dorian grinned and leant forward, latching onto the side of Orym’s neck, carefully sucking a hickey into the skin as he worked a third finger into him until he could take all three down to the root without much resistance. Then, all at once, Dorian was moving away, removing his fingers and leaning back to sit on his elbows. He looked Orym up and down for a moment.

“Well, you know what to do, don’t you?” Dorian grinned in such a way that Orym went scrambling for the lube.

Once he’d shoved Dorian’s underwear out of the way and lubed up his cock, Orym quickly settled himself into position, pressing the head against his hole and beginning to sink down eagerly. Dorian’s groan elongated with each inch he took until he was fully seated and flush against him. Underneath him, he could feel Dorian tense, as if he wanted to thrust up into the warmth that Orym provided but was resisting. And he would probably keep resisting until Orym made the first move. He shifted his legs under himself a little better, bracing himself on Dorian’s chest before he began to bounce, fucking himself down onto Dorian’s cock. They were miles from any of the camping grounds and unless someone had had the same idea as them to stargaze tonight, they were completely alone. So as promised he also didn’t hold back on his noises, letting Dorian know exactly how much he enjoyed the ride, his little whimpers and moans filling the quiet evening air along with the satisfying slap of skin.

He was a little disappointed that he couldn’t kiss Dorian from this angle, but he could watch his face shift and contort as Orym brought them to a pace that he knew drove Dorian wild. It was a test of his endurance to keep it up, however, but he was more than willing to try if it meant that Dorian’s eyes kept rolling back into his head with that perfect slack-jawed expression. Eventually, Dorian appeared to wrangle two brain cells together long enough to drag his hand down along Orym’s thigh and rest it on his ankle.

“How's the ankle?” Dorian asked softly. “No pain?”

“It’s fine.”

“You have to tell me if it starts hurting, okay? Promise?”

Orym nodded through the fond feeling that clamped down around his heart at the small check-in.

“Oh no, I think it is starting to hurt. You’ll have to put me on my back and fuck it out of me,” He teased dramatically, watching the knowing grin split across Dorian’s face.

“Brat.” Dorian removed his hand from Orym’s leg. “And here I was just thinking you were about due for a treat for fucking yourself so well on my cock. Guess I’ll just wait until you’re ready to behave again.”

Orym whined and slowed his pace a little, pouting. “That seems a little unfair…seeing as I’ve done everything you asked of me…”

“Only good boys get treats, Orym. Brats have to work for it.”

Orym trembled. If he kept going at this rate, he wasn’t going to be able to keep his promise and he really did want to be able to keep it. So he evened out his breathing as best he could, setting a comfortable pace that hopefully wouldn’t throw him over the edge but was still enjoyable for the both of them. Dorian groaned appreciatively, his eyes glowing slightly in the light of Catha as he looked upon Orym, his gaze half-lidded. He was divine like this and Orym still couldn't believe that this beautiful creature had just asked him to marry him.

"Dorian," Orym moaned as he fucked himself down harder. "Sweetheart, please, want you to fuck me. I'm already so close, want you to come, want you to fuck me."

Dorian watched him for a moment longer, seeming to debate something internally, before laying back flat on the blanket completely. Behind him, Orym could feel Dorian bracing his feet against the ground, preparing. He nearly could have sobbed with relief when Dorian finally placed his hands on Orym’s hips and pulled him to a stop, keeping them flush together as he looked up at him.

“I think I’ve made you wait long enough,” He hummed, squaring his feet properly. “Ready?”

Orym immediately dropped forward, pressing his face into Dorian’s chest and curling his hands into his shirt, holding on tight. Dorian adjusted them a little before thrusting up, shoving the breath out of him with a gasp before he did it again. Dorian then set a gruelling pace, snapping his hips up into Orym with reckless abandon, finally giving him exactly what he wanted. However, he couldn’t fully let himself enjoy it, though, so focused on keeping his promise, waiting for the moment when Dorian suddenly seized up under him. Only then did he finally let himself tip over, almost immediately following after, coming between them with a moan that he smothered into Dorian’s shirt.

In the warm fuzz of the afterglow, he found himself trembling, the chill of the evening slowly starting to sink back in. Dorian carefully pushed himself back upright, keeping Orym in his lap and close, until he could reach in and grab out the towel that Orym directed him to get from his backpack. Once they’d cleaned up as much as they could and dressed again, Dorian pulled Orym back into his lap, tucking the blanket around him so he could warm him back up quickly. Dorian then hummed contently and nosed into the curve of Orym’s shoulder, a warm hand soothing down his spine.

“I love you, Orym,” He murmured, giving him a fond squeeze.

“I love you too,” Orym replied, slipping a hand out of the blanket in order to comb it absently through the ends of Dorian’s hair. “My beautiful, talented, wonderful fiancé.”

Dorian shivered under his words and smiled, curling him in tighter. "Now I know you're just blowing smoke up my backside."

"Never," Orym insisted. "You have earned all those monikers and should wear them with pride."

Dorian gave him another tight squeeze. They fell silent for a moment, just cuddling close and enjoying each other's warmth for a long moment before Orym felt Dorian’s head turn skyward again.

"Orym, quick, look!" Dorian said, tapping his shoulder hurriedly.

Orym turned his head just in time to catch the last rays of the falling star above and grinned widely, turning back to Dorian eagerly.

"Quick, make a wish, Dor," He said and Dorian screwed up his eyes tightly. After a moment, he opened them again, smiling to himself.

"What did you wish for?"

Dorian chuckled. "I can't tell you! Then it won't come true!"

"Aw, well, worth a shot." Orym laughed before drawing Dorian down into a sweet kiss.

Not long after, they decided it was time to head back, packing up all the blankets and the food they hadn’t finished. Orym then led the way back to the trail and from there it was an easy wander back to camp. Tomorrow, they would rise early and pack everything down in order to be back in the city by early afternoon. But right now, Dorian seemed like he had other things on his mind. He was quiet for a lot of the trip back, smiling and laughing at Orym’s bad jokes, but otherwise, he was a little caught up in his own head. Maybe once they were safely cuddled in bed, Orym could coax the thoughts out of him. In the meantime, they packed away their bags into the tent before crawling in to get undressed and settled for bed.

Once Orym had gotten comfortable, Dorian immediately curled into him, snuggling in close and resting his head on his chest. He took that as a good sign that maybe it wouldn’t take much to get Dorian talking about whatever it was that was bothering him and within minutes, he was proven right.

"I…uh…this week has been…thank you for bringing me out here, Orym.” He said softly absently drawing circles across Orym’s stomach. “Despite…I've had a lot of fun and it's been nice to spend time away from the city."

Orym smiled and combed a hand through Dorian’s hair. "Good. I was worried it really wouldn't be your thing, but I'm glad you had fun."

“It was only because you were here.” Dorian hesitated for a moment. “I…um...I have something I wanna talk about. But I’m…not sure where to begin?”

Orym nodded in understanding, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Take your time, sweetheart.”

Dorian paused for a long moment, seeming to grapple with the words he wanted to say.

“Well…this week away with you has been so lovely but I’ve also been thinking a lot between the times we haven’t been busy...” Dorian swallowed. “About the future, what it holds for both of us and I want your opinion, seeing as you’re now my future husband, it affects you as well.”

Orym nodded along, brushing his hand through his hair.

“I think…at the end of this year…I’m quitting OnlyHeroes.”

Orym’s hand paused mid-comb.

“But…you love your work?” He questioned softly and Dorian finally turned his head to look up at him.

“I love your safety more.” Dorian shifted then, moving up to hover over him. “It’s not just that, though. I’m tired of it in general; the stress, the workload and the hours I have to give up in order to stay ahead. It’s…it’s not worth it anymore. And it’s not worth risking your safety. If I’m going to marry you like I want, the least I can do is make sure you’re never put in danger like that again. That our home isn’t stalked and invaded because of someone looking for me.”

Orym hesitantly reached up to cup Dorian’s face in his hands. “This is what you want?”

“I’m positive, Orym.”

“Then I will support you all the way.” He brushed his thumbs across Dorian’s cheeks. “We can talk more about the logistics of everything another time, but I’m with you, whatever you need.”

Dorian bit his lip as tears welled up in his eyes before he let himself collapse forward into Orym’s waiting embrace. They held tight to one another for a long moment before Orym buried his face into the curve of Dorian’s shoulder.

“What would you have said if I’d told you I wanted to continue working past the end of the year?” Dorian finally whispered into the side of Orym’s neck.

“I would have told you the same thing,” Orym said, twisting a hand into his hair, pressing warm open-mouthed kisses across his neck. “Only I would have detailed all the ways I was going to update the security we get when we buy that place out in the suburbs. I mean, I’m still going to update it anyway, but it would have been more involved if you decided to keep working porn longer.”

Dorian laughed and squeezed Orym tightly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Orym grinned, squeezing him back. “You’re going to make the prettiest trophy husband there ever was.”

Dorian snorted. “I’m still going to work, Orym! I’m going to see if Fearne will hire me as her editor and maybe from there I can pick up some other freelancing work like that. I still have connections in the business and will work in it. I just…I won’t be on the screen anymore.”

“So you’ll just be mine to look at and adore then, huh?” Orym murmured, trailing his hand down along Dorian’s side. “I think I like the sound of that.”

“And I’m going to enjoy all the more hours I get to spend with you without worrying about work.” Dorian kissed him warmly. “Thank you for listening….and understanding.”

Orym nodded and smiled. “We should get some sleep; we have an early start tomorrow.”

“Right.” Dorian settled back down beside him, tucking his head back up under Orym’s chin. “Goodnight Orym.”

“Goodnight, Dor. Sweet dreams.”

--

They packed up the camp side by side to the sound of Dorian’s playlist from the phone that Orym had let him turn back on that morning. He must have texted Opal that he was back on his own device, as the music kept getting interrupted by the sound of Dorian’s message tone going off and Dorian abandoning whatever he was packing in order to go check it. Orym eventually jokingly threatened to shove the phone down his pants if Dorian kept getting distracted, but that nearly backfired on him when Dorian suddenly put him on the back step of the car and sank to his knees in front of him with a teasing ‘Well, clearly you want my attention focused here,’ and Orym had to beat him off, lovingly, with a pillow. In the end, however, the camp was cleared before noon and the car was packed and ready for them to depart. Orym took one last sweep of the area while Dorian waited in the car before the halfling was content they had everything.

The drive back to the city felt surprisingly short for all the time it had taken them to get out there in the first place. And it was a little disheartened at the way Dorian’s expression and mood seemed to dip as the scenery around them changed from the highway to city skyscrapers again. He was still texting, probably catching up on everything they’d missed in their week away, but he had grown quieter the closer back home they’d gotten. By the time they pulled up in the apartment block parking lot, Dorian had gone completely silent and was ignoring the pings of texts on his phone. So Orym reached across and placed a hand on his shoulder, startling him out of whatever thoughts he’d sunk into.

“Hey, you with me?”

“Yeah…” Dorian nodded and stretched his legs a little. “Yeah just…thinking.”

“Do you want to talk about it now or do you need some more time to consider?”

“A little more time, please. Maybe after we’ve unpacked the car?”

Orym squeezed his shoulder fondly. “Deal.”

It took them several trips to gather everything from the car and run it back up to the apartment, even though for now they were just piling it all by the door. Orym would worry about returning the car and unpacking everything back into its proper place tomorrow. Right now, he had a fiancé hovering like a ghost in the middle of their living room, staring at the couch as if he couldn’t decide whether to sit down or to throw it out. Orym took the choice out of his hands.

“Why don’t I get us a drink?”

Dorian startled a little and looked at him. “I…would love a drink right now.”

While Dorian shuffled off to go and retrieve something from his bags, Orym poured them both a cold drink from the fridge and brought it over to join Dorian on the floor in front of the couch, as he set up his laptop on the coffee table. While the laptop booted up, Dorian accepted the drink from Orym without looking and took a hearty swig before choking slightly, as if unprepared. He turned to Orym, wide-eyed.

“Orym, is this cordial?”

Orym paused. “Did you think I was going to pour you an alcoholic drink?”

“Well….yes?”

He balked. “Sweetheart, it’s like…barely two in the afternoon?”

“It’s never too early to start drinking, darling.”

As Orym shook his head, Dorian laughed and put his drink down on the coffee table beside his laptop. Orym automatically picked it back up and slid a coaster under it before putting it back down, causing Dorian to roll his eyes, exasperated but fond. Then he put his attention back on the laptop, tapping away into the search bar and pulling up one of the local real estate websites.

“I was texting Dariax on the way home; these are the guys he and Opal are renting through and he said good things about the company and that we should look into them if we’re considering buying a place.”

Orym absently combed a hand through Dorian’s hair. “This is what you were thinking about on the trip home?”

“Among other things. I just…I want our future to be safe and this place,” He motioned to the apartment around them. “No longer feels like the safe space it once was. So I want us to go through some of the houses on this site and pick out what we like or don’t like and see if we can’t figure out what we’re collectively looking for and then from there we can extend our search.”

“Okay,” Orym nodded before shifting to clamber into Dorian’s lap, plonking himself down to take over the keyboard. “We should look into our finances also and set a budget on what we’re willing to spend on a place; we want to be able to afford repayments on the mortgage even when you stop working and-”

He cut off as Dorian suddenly wrapped his arms around him and squeezed tightly, pressing him back into his chest and nuzzling down into the curve of his shoulder. Orym just let it happen, curling a hand up to pet Dorian’s hair gently, letting him work through whatever emotion had just overtaken him. After a long moment, Dorian finally found his voice again, though it was muffled into Orym’s shoulder.

“Orym?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m really glad I met you.”

Orym smiled and turned his head to press a kiss to the side of Dorian’s head. “Me too, Dor. Me too.”

Chapter Text

You learn to run, you learn to race through life, it's unforgiving pace
These lines we're tracing to the truth
And stepping over endless cracks, I navigate these crooked paths
But all my roads lead back to you

And all the lines we cast will bring us home
It's a long way but I'm coming home to you

Three Months Later

Dorian took a deep breath as he sat at his desk, staring into the little blinking light of the camera. His eyes drifted across to his screen, opened on his typed document of all the words he thought he wanted to say when the time came. But as he scrolled through, months' worth of words and of planning, none of them felt right anymore. For four years, he’d worked so carefully to the script, wanting to be exactly what people wanted. And then he’d met Orym and gone so far off script of his life he’d written that he’d finally become the most authentic version of himself. Suddenly the thought of one more show as Blue, of one last hurrah, felt wrong. So he closed down the document and turned to the camera again and finally smiled.

“We’re going a bit off script for this one, folks,” He said as he sat back in his chair, trying to relax. “There are far too many words and emotions for me to accurately describe what I’m feeling right now. But I wanted to take this chance to chat, to explain.”

He rubbed his hands together nervously.

“I’m sure all of you know what happened in Brussendar. It was heavily covered in both gossip columns and the local news. I can’t talk more about what really happened that night, but it’s safe to say that it made my life a bit of a shit show. Even now it’s still a bit of a media circus, especially with the sentencing coming up. So I can only hope you understand why I want to discuss what comes next for BabyBlue.”

He glanced at the door, the sounds of Orym shifting around in the next room a comfort, before he turned back to the camera.

“I hope it won’t come as too much of a shock for me to announce my retirement.” The words felt like a weight falling off his shoulders. “I’m going to see you all out till the end of this year, but then it’s time for me to step out of the spotlight and spend it with the people I care about most. I am very grateful for everything over these past four years, but all good things must come to an end.”

“It’s been a wild ride. So thanks for coming.” He couldn’t help but grin a little and wink before flicking off the recording and leaning back in his chair properly.

Maybe later he would go back and add more. He would have to edit it either way to cut out the sounds of Orym packing things in the other room. Speaking of - he was meant to be packing himself. With a sigh, he hauled himself up out of the chair and back over to the boxes in the corner he’d been halfway through filling when he’d gotten the idea to record his farewell in the room where he’d started it all. At the end of this week, they were officially moving into their own place; a quaint, semi-modern, three bedroom down in the suburbs with a backyard big enough for a dog and maybe a small pool if Dorian could talk Orym into it. But he also knew Orym desperately wanted some kind of a garden to maintain, so he would let that idea take precedence, if that was what his fiancé wanted.

Fiancé. It was still a little odd to think that just over a year and a half ago, he and Orym had been two strangers whose paths had crossed by the whim of a fae they called their friend. And now here they were moving into a home, engaged and planning a life together. He wouldn’t have believed it three years ago and he still almost couldn’t believe it now. He was extremely lucky and grateful to have Orym in his life.

As if summoned by his thoughts, there was a soft knock on the door before Orym peeked in with a smile.

“How’s the packing going?”

Since the date for move in had been finalised, and even a little before that, Orym had already settled into packing mode and had periodically been checking in with Dorian to make sure he was on schedule. Admittedly, he was behind on today's boxes but he already had a good excuse prepared, even before Orym took a glance around the room at his several open, half finished boxes.

“Look, I was working on my last video.” He motioned towards his computer with the dildo in his hand and Orym shook his head fondly.

“Did you want a hand? I’m done with the linen closet.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dorian relented, tossing the dildo into the shopping bag beside him before digging into the drawers for the next few to sort through. “I’m just going through all these old toys, seeing which ones I might like to keep and which ones are going out to be recycled.”

“That sounds like a long and hard task,” Orym commented dryly, earning him an exasperated glare from Dorian.

“Can you pack the camera equipment in the corner for me, please?” He asked with a jerk of his chin instead of responding. “I got halfway through it then remembered I still had to do this.”

Orym chuckled and nodded before waddling over to the box in question and beginning to jenga all of Dorian’s cameras in. While Dorian might have been stepping out of the spotlight, it didn’t mean that Orym was as well and he had no intention of letting his good cameras go to waste. They’d already made a few new videos for Orym’s OnlyHeroes that he’d edited together in his spare time and the results had been well received. Orym had more than a few new clients and even with Dorian’s planned drop off of income, they were still well enough prepared. And it wasn’t like he was stepping out into the unknown. He’d already picked up some work from Fearne and a few other pornstars he’d had contact with were interested in his editing services as well, though until the end of the year he hadn’t been able to make any commitments. But that was changing now. Just like everything else.

“Dor?”

He blinked back to reality to find Orym standing over his shoulder.

“What?”

“Look, I don’t know a lot about sex toys, but I figure it can’t be too difficult to choose between what you’ve got in your hands there.” He chuckled. “You’ve been staring at them like they hold all the answers to life’s mysteries.”

“Maybe they do?” Dorian joked before deciding he didn’t want to keep either of them and dropped them into the shopping bag. “I’m just thinking about how much I’ve changed. How much we’ve changed, you know?”

Orym tilted his head. “Have we changed, though? Or did we just find better ways in which we fit together?”

Dorian paused for a moment before looking up at Orym. “You know I hate it when you go all philosophical on me.”

“No, you don’t.” Orym chuckled, leaning down to steal a kiss. “You just hate it when I’m right.”

Dorian grabbed him around the legs and pulled him in close before surging up to kiss him properly. “You are such a brat.”

Orym gasped into his mouth softly. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m trying to pack!” Dorian chuckled. “Unless you want me to be behind?”

Orym twirled a lock of Dorian’s hair in his fingers. “I think you can spare me three minutes.”

Dorian choked on his own spit. “You-”

“No wait, you’re right, three minutes is a bit much. You’ll only need two to finish, right?”

“Orym-!”

Orym laughed brightly as Dorian wrestled him to the ground and they both forgot about packing for a while.

--

Folsen came all too quickly and Dorian only just barely finished packing his share of the boxes in time, even with Orym’s help. The living room had never looked more like a warehouse than a room, all the furniture pushed aside neatly in order to stack the first load of boxes for the truck that was arriving first thing in the morning. Dorian had left all that organisation to Orym and was currently at the point of just being there to be pretty and move heavy things that were bigger than Orym. For dinner that night, they had one of Orym’s pre-prepared home-cooked microwavable meals before Orym encouraged him to come to bed early as they would need to be well rested for moving everything in the morning. Dorian, however, sent him off to do his rounds of the windows, so he could take a moment alone to think and process.

For the past four years of his life, these rooms were all he had known. His safe space, his haven. Dorian paused to look out the windows, taking in one last proper look at the view - the skyline of the city. Their new place was two stories, but it wouldn’t be the same. They would have a neighbourhood, a boulevard rather than skyscrapers and constant traffic. He wasn’t sure yet if he would miss it, but in the end, it would be worth it, he knew that. They could have anonymity again. They could live without constantly feeling like they had to look over their shoulders. Well, Dorian still probably would for a while until he was settled again but that was a bridge they could cross when they came to it. And he would have Orym there the whole way.

He wandered through the kitchen, trailing a hand over the bench before making his way down the corridor. He took a glance into the bathroom, double-checking that all the boxes in there were properly closed and that only the things they still needed were the things left out, before moving along into the space that used to be his office. Almost everything had been moved out of it, the bed dismantled and in the lounge room ready to be taken with the first load. They’d decided to keep it and turn it into the bed for the spare room and not tell anyone what it had been used for previously. The only thing left currently was the desk that he’d have to get Ashton to help him move in the morning and a couple of boxes of his camera equipment, which he’d insisted were too delicate to go in the van and he was going to take in his car.

He kneeled down in the space that had once been his recording corner, feeling strangely nostalgic about it all as he looked at the places where his cameras and lights had left grooves in the carpet. There had been times when he’d hated his work and times when it had been the highlight of his day. He found, however, he didn’t regret the thought of leaving that life behind him in this space. This was where BabyBlue was created and it was kind of poetic that this is where he would forever stay. Instead, Dorian Storm was the one moving forward from this place, out of the shadows. He smiled a little at that thought.

That was when Orym wandered in, took a glance at him and paused.

“You good?”

“Yeah. Just a lot of memories.”

Orym gave him a once over then nodded and continued his journey over to the window, pulling it shut and locking it tightly.

“Hey, Orym?”

“Yeah?”

“…when we get married, I just want you to know that I don’t expect you to change your name or anything.”

Orym blinked. “...what?”

“Well, Ashari was Will’s last name that you took when you married him, right? And I wouldn’t ever want you to give up that connection with him, so I did some thinking and it really doesn’t bother me if you decided to keep it-”

Dorian cut off as Orym collided with him suddenly, hugging him tightly. He hugged him back and was wildly concerned for a moment, realising Orym’s shoulders were shaking. When he pulled back, however, Orym was thankfully laughing, not crying.

“You really are the sweetest man on the face of Exandria.” Orym double tucked Dorian’s hair back behind both of his ears, away from his face. “Only you would be thinking about something like this so far in advance, when we’re moving downtown in literally less than 12 hours.”

Dorian felt himself flush and twisted his hands together. “I thought it was important that you knew so you could have all the facts when deciding.”

“It’s very sweet of you, but I already made up my mind months ago.” Orym cradled his face in his hands. “Will is a part of me that no matter where I go, or what I do, he’ll always be with me. Even when I don’t carry his name anymore.”

Dorian’s eyes widened. “Wait so...”

“Yes. When we get married, I was planning on taking your name.” Orym was blushing now, as if a little embarrassed to be saying it aloud. “I…was going to tell you soon when we settled in for wedding planning but…yeah…that was my plan. I think Orym Storm has a rather nice ring to it, don’t you?”

Dorian could only gape wordlessly for a moment before he pulled Orym into a lingering, searing kiss.

“I can’t wait to marry the shit out of you.”

Orym snorted. “That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“Doesn’t have to.” Dorian scooped Orym up and flung him over his shoulder like a sack before marching for the door. “In the meantime, however, I’m going to blow your mind one last time in this apartment.”

“Dorian, we need to sleep!”

“You’ll sleep better afterwards; trust me, I’ve spent time as a nurse.”

Orym’s fond laughter carried them all the way back to the bedroom for the last night they would spend in this apartment.

--

By this point, they’d done more than a few walkthroughs of the new place and Orym knew the entire layout from top to bottom. That still didn’t make it any less strange, the sensation that ran down his spine as he stepped into the front entranceway of the house with the first of the boxes he could carry in from the van. They had the whole day ahead of them, doing trips back and forth, putting together furniture and organising what would go where but for the moment he paused in place, looking at the big empty living room before him.

He still remembered what it was like the day he and Will had first moved in together. The house that they’d shared back in Zephrah. It hadn’t looked anything like this one; it had been smaller, cramped, and most weeks, until his work had proved fruitful, they’d barely made rent. But it had been solely theirs to make do of and now this place was his and Dorian’s to do the same. And he was grateful, even if the feeling of sadness ran heavily in his veins as well. He placed the box he was holding down in front of the little faux fireplace that was actually just a heater and absently brushed a hand across the stone.

Voices echoed in from the doorway behind him and by the sound of it, Ashton and Dorian were arguing over the best way to bring in the couch. Dorian thought it would be easier if they brought it in through the back double door from the patio while Ashton argued they should attempt to jenga it in through the front door, seeing as the living room was right there. Orym turned as they entered, both carrying boxes the size of him, and they both paused at the sight of him.

“Orym, you’re crying,” Dorian said and when Orym touched his cheeks, he was surprised to find them wet.

Before he could respond, Ashton quickly made themselves scarce by putting down their box and remarking about getting another from the van before vanishing. Dorian abandoned his box by the door, crossing the room in order to kneel down in front of Orym and take his head in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

“What’s going on?”

Orym shrugged and sniffed. “Just…a little overwhelmed, I guess. I didn’t think I would be.”

Dorian nodded and then leaned in to kiss his forehead. “If you wanna swap roles and go back to the old place to coordinate there when the truck goes back, I’ll stay here with Ash.”

“Na, it’s…” He shook his head. “I’ll be right.”

“You sure? I don’t mind. Ashton and I will be here a while arguing over the couch anyway.”

Orym chuckled. “I measured the door the other week with Chet; Ash is right. It will fit in through the front if you want to avoid carrying it all the way around the side.”

Dorian shushed him hurriedly, covering his mouth, which only made Orym laugh harder. “Don’t tell him that! I will never hear the end of it!”

“Sorry, Sweetheart,” He said, tugging Dorian’s hand down off his face. “But the math doesn’t lie.”

“Ugh! They’re going to be insufferable the rest of the afternoon.” Dorian sighed softly before turning back to Orym. “But, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” Orym nodded. “Just, was thinking about when Will and I first moved into our first place together and how different it is now with you. Not bad different just…different.”

“I understand.” Dorian pressed another quick kiss to his forehead before standing up. “If you need a break, just let me know. Ash and I can handle things for a while…at least until we get on each other's nerves and then you may have to come to break up the fight.”

Orym chuckled and patted Dorian’s hip. “I’ll be alright. Promise.”

He took a deep breath and then shook out his whole body, recentering himself. “Okay, let’s get this done.”

“Right!” Dorian grinned.

--

Between their circling pool of helpers - Ashton, Chetney, FCG, Dariax and the van driver - they managed to bring everything from the apartment across town and into the new house before nightfall. Granted, the house looked like an explosion had gone off; open boxes and miscellaneous items were strewn about everywhere due to the sudden need for tools in order to put together beds and furniture to make room for the rest of the boxes. However, that also meant that when the time came for their helpers to leave, the beds and the couch were already put back together and it was one less job they had to worry about tonight or tomorrow. After seeing their friends out, Orym collapsed down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Dorian watched him for a moment, considering. He could join him in relaxing, taking a break to just cuddle. Or…

Orym let out a startled laugh of surprise as Dorian suddenly hoisted him up off the couch and flung him up over his shoulder, turning on the spot.

“Dorian!” Orym chuckled, clutching onto the back of his shirt. “What are you doing!?”

Dorian hummed thoughtfully. “I’m deciding which room we ought to christen first.”

“What?”

“This is a brand new house for us, Orym! And I intend to defile you in every single room for the next week or so.”

Orym laughed loudly. “Maybe we should start with the bedroom then?”

Dorian scoffed. “That’s so boring and predictable, though. I was thinking instead…”

He marched them into the laundry and sat Orym down on top of the washing machine. Orym snorted.

“You couldn’t have picked a less sexy room if you’d tried, sweetheart.”

“Well, I’d argue, as the sexiest thing in this house, we can make it work.” Dorian grinned wickedly and leant down to latch onto Orym’s neck, sliding his hands up under his shirt as Orym gasped and leant into it. He was just in the process of working Orym’s shirt off when the doorbell rang and they both paused.

“Were we expecting anyone?” Dorian asked, looking down at Orym, who shook his head.

“Not that I know of.”

Dorian led the way to the door, Orym trailing along curiously behind him. He paused, hand hovering over the knob before he pushed through the hesitance and opened the door, peeking around to glance at the figures on their doorstep, lit by the overhead porch light. A middle-aged elven woman with light auburn hair stood holding a plastic container. Beside her was an older orcish man with greying hair and spectacles, who was leaning heavily on his cane, hand raised as if he’d been about to ring the doorbell again, just as Dorian answered. They were both dressed warmly against the chill of the Duscar air and sensing no immediate threat, Dorian opened the door completely.

“Good evening,” The orc rumbled. “I hope we aren’t disturbing you?”

“Oh…uh…” Dorian felt Orym touch lightly at his hip, silently comforting him. “No, we were just settling in.”

“Excellent. My name is Ariks Eshteross and this is Evelyn, my caretaker. We live in number eight, just across the way.” He pointed to one of the houses across the boulevard.

“Ariks saw you two moving in today and wanted to drop in on our evening walk to bring you these,” Evelyn explained before offering out the plastic container, which Dorian now realised looked to be filled with cookies of some kind.

“They’re maple ginger,” Ariks said, stroking his goatee proudly. “Freshly made this afternoon.”

“Oh, thank you,” Dorian said as Orym accepted the container. “Uh, I’m Dorian, by the way, and this is my fiancé, Orym.”

Ariks nodded to them once, each in turn. “I suspect you will be visited by a few of the other neighbours in the coming days. They’re good folk around here and many will be curious about newcomers such as yourselves.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Orym said before looking up to meet Dorian’s gaze. “We’ve just moved out from an apartment in the city, so we’re not exactly used to the neighbours being the friendly sort.”

“Of course. Well, you are always welcome to come around to our home for tea and baked goods if you wish. It is the same courtesy I have offered others on the street and would be remiss if I did not invite you as well.”

“That…actually sounds really lovely,” Dorian said with a small smile. “Thank you. Maybe after we’ve settled in properly, I’ll take you up on it.”

Ariks nodded. “I look forward to it. However, we shall leave you to your evening and continue with our walk.”

“Have a wonderful evening,” Evelyn said as the two turned and slowly made their way back down the path to the gate, latching it behind them.

Dorian watched them for a moment longer before closing the door and turning to Orym.

“Did we just get adopted by the neighbourhood grandpa?”

Orym laughed. “I think we did. You know you’ll have to go around for tea sometime now though?”

“Oh I know, I fully intend to. A man like that knows all the gossip on the street and I intend to pick his brain. But first, let's see how good these cookies are.”

Orym cracked open the container and they split a cookie between them. Dorian chewed on his half thoughtfully.

“It's…definitely ginger.”

“But…they’re not bad though. Just strongly flavoured.”

Dorian finished off his cookie before dusting off his hands. “Maybe I’ll take some of my own baking around when I get the chance.”

Orym hummed and smiled up at him for a moment before closing the lid on the container and wandering towards the kitchen.

“What?” Dorian asked, following after him curiously as Orym tucked the cookies away in the pantry. “What was that look for?”

“I’m just proud of you,” Orym hopped up onto the counter and coaxed Dorian over in front of him. “The young man I met two years ago never would have considered going over to a stranger's house for afternoon tea; not in a million years.”

Dorian flushed as Orym took his head in his hands. “He just seemed very nice and he’s got a carer Orym so how dangerous could he be?”

“And that’s exactly why I’m proud of you. Of how far you’ve come.” Orym pressed a kiss to his cheek. “So yes, I think you should take some of your wonderful muffins over to them sometime next week and have a very long discussion with Ariks about the merits of baking. And of course get all the good gossip about our new neighbours.”

Dorian smiled softly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Orym drew him down into a sweet little kiss that very quickly turned longingly demanding. “...I thought we were going to defile the laundry first?”

“I changed my mind, a snack like you deserves to be savoured and where better to do that than the kitchen?”

Orym’s laugh quickly shifted into a moan as Dorian nipped at his neck and worked his shirt up and off of him. Dorian then tugged him to the edge of the countertop and sank down to his knees to make short work of Orym’s shorts, leaving him sitting naked on the bench. A hand then gently tangled into his hair and held tight, so he turned his face to look up at Orym, who was flushed a delicious shade of red all the way down his chest. Dorian’s heart threatened to burst out of his chest with the wave of affection that washed over him, looking up at the man he loved.

“You gunna be good for me, baby?” Dorian asked, smoothing his hands up over Orym’s thighs.

“That depends, you gunna actually get me off tonight?”

Dorian swatted him and nipped at his thigh. “Brat.”

Orym tugged on his hair. “Menace.”

Tomorrow they would begin the proper unpacking of their house before going and cleaning the old apartment. The day after that, they would have a constant cycle of friends dropping in to lend a hand with making their new house a home. And within the next week, Orym would discover a jogging buddy in their neighbour while Dorian would take a batch of freshly made muffins across the boulevard to number eight and be welcomed into Ariks and Evelyn’s home with open arms and a cup of warm tea.

The End