[ is there anything to explain? larus shrugs in response. ]
I follow my instincts. [ as if that's all, but he pauses to consider before leading with: ] There's something easy about being with you. I don't know what it is. I don't even know if I like it. But it's there. I've only met one other person I can say that about, and he isn't here.
[Part of him unabashedly enjoys listening to people talk about him favorably-- or at all, really. But he is curious about why Larus drew a distinction. What he's done is listen and extend sympathy to someone who feels deserving: the cornerstone of any friendship.]
So it doesn't concern you that I said I could have used and discarded you, if I so chose? [Rather than judgmental, he's... impressed.]
Why would I care about something that hasn't happened? If you had, we wouldn't be speaking now. If you do —
[ larus pauses, considering. would he try chasing after whatever this is between them? a friendship, a convenience. he looks at dorian steadily for a while, trying to decide what else to say. there's not much else he wants to talk about, but there has to be a reason he's still there. ]
I don't know. I suppose we'll find out how I feel if you decide to try.
[So Larus either doesn't see him as a bad person, or doesn't think about people in black and white terms like those to begin with. Dorian isn't sure, but either sentiment is something he feels an affinity with. People aren't simple, and it is very easy to imagine meeting others who would be disturbed by a pronouncement like the one he made. In most places he's been, it's more the norm to come across people who would feel that way.
(Because they have the circumstances that allow it.)
Dorian doesn't need to press any further about what he's heard.
The open-endedness and acceptance of the vampire's last comment brings a smile to his face.]
Do you want to spend the night, when the time comes? [Dorian suggests, abruptly.] My suite has a guest room that you're welcome to, and that may be more comfortable than the room you were given. It doesn't have a roommate, at any rate.
[ it is abrupt, and the invitation is just as surprising as the shift in conversation, looking at him with a somewhat unguarded expression. it's not as if dorian's offering him anything substantial, but it's very different from the first time they met, from the words they exchanged. he's starting to understand bits and pieces of this man, though he believes there's more to what dorian presents to the world.
larus is straightforward and not so mysterious. dorian, however, is someone he wants to slowly unravel and piece together. ]
That would leave me here all day. [ not that he's saying no. ] What do you suggest I do to pass the time? Unless you're planning to keep me company.
[ and it's not as if there's nothing to do. he could read, he could message people or browse more of the network. but larus prefers to be out and about among the city, in the thick of it. he'd grow bored and restless sitting still otherwise. ]
I wasn't planning on going anywhere tomorrow, honestly, [he admits. After several straight days of exploring the Up, Dorian finally feels more situated to this part of the city. On top of that, there's the very necessary coordination that needs to happen for the sake of his portrait.
As long as he hasn't met anyone who truly knows him (an ongoing risk, given the randomness of who seems to end up getting pulled into the city) the portrait has been safe hanging up in plain view in the room opposite his kitchen. Experience has taught him that most people, when faced with what looks like a dramatic (disgusting) and avant-garde (reprehensible) piece of artwork, will simply assume that its owner has eccentric tastes. But that won't be the case for long-- particularly not with the vampire seated next to him now if their friendship keeps deepening at the pace it has been.
He needs to find a bank, or some other form of impenetrable safekeeping for it, and that will take probing the network.]
I'd be pleased to have your company, or to let you sleep if you have any need during the day. If you get bored, I'm sure we'd be able to figure out something to pass the time.
[Also, part of him appreciates knowing that being here means Larus won't be getting jumped in the Down. He's not bothered that his roommate will be forced to cope with the loss.]
[ the daylight hours are better spent honing connections and looking elsewhere to aim his interests while avoiding the sun. he should think about a contract that will likely come months from now, perhaps sooner rather than later to give him more freedom. he should think about the quota and everything else that's been laid in front of him. the choices he'll have to make and the things he does not yet know about dorian—whatever it is he doesn't say in the silence.
yet, he doesn't waste time on any of that. not yet. instead, finally remembering to move, he shifts forward in his seat and perhaps just a little closer to the other. ]
So I'd like to hear some of your other suggestions. Maybe any that don't include journaling.
[Dorian breathes an appreciative laugh at the callback to journaling. Clever.]
I have a piano arriving tomorrow. [A very appropriate use of the limited pre-job funds he's been allotted, yes, thank you.] I'll play you something. I have a ready catalog of music at my fingertips, along with most of the body of Chopin's work. [A beat, and then he explains:] He's a famous composer from my world.
[He's trying, for once, to be good. There's a temptation to offer more, but he isn't certain yet-- if Larus is susceptible to his influence, as a young vampire just having gone through (by his own terms) the trauma of his own death. Some part of him still seems to believe he can exist without manipulating others, and without that abstention leading to his own suffering. Dorian isn't sure he wants to impede upon that in a more personal sense yet.
Being good is always a vanity project for him and he's aware of that, but at least it still pays off in positive ways for the people around him. Harm reduction may be the least that he can do, but in this case he likes to think that Toby would approve.]
[ it sounds like something his sister would have appreciated, feeling an intense longing that he just swallows down and frowns around. there are parts of himself that he should finally process and accept, but the fact that he'd died and left her alone – and has for years now – is something he'd rather ignore for as long as possible. if dorian wants to entertain him with music, then the least larus can do is listen. ]
I've never had an ear for music, but I'd like to know more about the things in your world. [ some of it feels similar to him, like he's stepped into an alternate version of his own. larus' expression lightens, almost amused. ] Are you an artist too?
[ meaning did he paint or draw. since he writes and is also musically inclined. those particular things larus never had too much interest in as a boy and still hadn't by the time he'd come of age. not that his parents had really cared about that, but it had left him with a lot of time on his hands to fill in his own way.
if larus is thinking of more or even suggesting more, it might not come for a while. no matter how intensely he listens to the steady thrum of dorian's heartbeat. ]
I can paint, but I haven't in years. [Even the idea of picking up a brush again still stings after the terrible fallout from the last time he painted.] Music and storytelling have always been more of my avenues of self-expression-- that and indulging in the works of others.
[Thinking about it does send an odd shock through his system that he hasn't had time to realize yet: none of what was once readily available to him is accessible here. Whole volumes of words, entire collections of illustrations, and all of those copies of plays and poetry gifted to him by dear, long-dead friends. Everything's trapped back in his own world and gathering dust in his home. All of it he can live without, but in time he knows he'll miss and crave it.
He'll have to start searching for new art and elevated words to fill in the chasm.]
If you aren't that interested in music, what's something you like to do?
['I don't care' is a common refrain from Larus, so it'll be interesting to see if he does have some kind of passion tucked away like a buried treasure.]
[ larus is silent for a moment, digesting what dorian's said about his likes. it would make finding things to fill this apartment with a lot easier, especially if he saw something that larus thought he might enjoy. his lips thin in response to that question though. ]
I haven't thought about it in a long time. [ it's not an 'i don't know', but it's close. ] I liked swimming though. Being outdoors. I used to scale the cliffs by the seaside with a friend of mine before my family moved to the Dusk.
[ he wasn't so wild as egil, only choosing the freedom of being away from his parents when he could, but it's something he had liked. it reminds him just how different the dusk is, how bleak and drenched in crime the further one crawled into the district. but larus can't afford those memories now, meeting dorian's eyes with just a hint of a smile pulling at his mouth. almost fond despite the particular heaviness of what he says next. ]
My sister would like you. You have a lot of the same interests.
[Swimming, cliffs, and being by the seaside. How he keeps finding vampires with nature-oriented bents, he doesn't know. The little offering tugs hard at Dorian's heart in a way he wishes it wouldn't.
So he pushes the thought away. There's a deeply tempting self-indulgence in reaching for shreds of an old lover in someone new, but it's not the same, and never will it be. As long as he's dwelling, he'll stay as frozen in place as he has been for months.
And isn't that the whole point of a new start, regardless of whether it's forced upon him or not? To try and make something new against all odds?]
Let's do that, then, [Dorian decides. He's insistent, suddenly invigorated.] I'm sure this place has something approaching a body of water. We could go there at night, and bring candles and a blanket to make it day under the stars.
[Paper over, in part, the aching wound in his heart with something different, with someone he's coming to trust.]
And you can tell me about your sister. [His voice evens out, softening in response to what's clearly a painful topic.]
[ he doesn't like this. the suggestion of intimacy, of things that he hadn't ever considered giving himself after he'd been turned. dorian seems oddly eager for it, searching what he knows of this place and wondering if there's somewhere they could go. a body of water—a lake, the ocean. larus runs the edge of his tongue against the sharp point of one of his fangs, frown deepening the longer he watches dorian. there's more to all of this that he isn't seeing, but he can't ask.
not right now. maybe not even later. ]
It's sounds like you're asking to take me out.
[ his tone might imply a tease, but it's much too soft for that. larus would rather deflect to anything else other than talking about sofie. how much he misses her, how he'd forced himself to stay away with the thought that mourning his death would be better than knowing what had actually happened to him. it is painful, and he's not quite there yet to even begin to speak much on it. ]
[ but he only thinks it because it's not something he's used to. this kind of attention, the earnest way they always seem to meet and come together. there's something there, something larus can't put his finger on, and it's going to consume him the longer they're around one another.
his voice is softer still. ] Is that something you want?
[Reaching out a hand, Dorian brushes strands of thick, wavy hair out of Larus' face as they slide to cover his cheek when he dips his head slightly. A smile curving his lips, Dorian leans in to press his lips against the vampire's cool forehead. Like any creature preserved eternally in a moment of youth, his skin is soft.]
Come with me. I haven't seen the ocean in some time, either. We'll visit it again together.
[ the heat that radiates from dorian is like an inferno, desperate to draw him in just to consume him, and larus sits uncomfortably still as the rush of dorian's pulse slides over him. he can feel his breath across his skin, the familiarity of him that he hadn't been able to get out of his mind since the first time they met. perhaps it's just the desire to be close, to feel something outside the stark memory of pain that had accompanied arriving in duplicity, but larus finds himself moving, palm pressing against dorian's chest as his fingers curl into his shirt. ]
You only have to tell me when.
[ it's quiet agreement, turning his face ever so slightly and conscious of the position of his mouth near dorian's jaw. all of this is dangerous, and he shouldn't allow himself to want any of it. still, it doesn't keep him from encouraging it, like he has something to prove by not pulling away. ]
[Dorian registers that moment of stiffness, but in the heat of wanting, writes it off as uncertainty.
It turns out to be the right choice, as cool fingers weave into the fabric of his shirt. That little touch is all it takes to tip him over the edge of reaching for a temptation that's burned in him on and off in Larus' company. Whether it's a good choice or not --aligned with his desire to be good around this young immortal-- is a thought that's shrugged off in favor of impulsive need the same way so many similar ones have been over hundreds of years.
Dorian slips his fingers more deeply into Larus' hair, his hand eventually falling to the back of the vampire's neck to draw him in. He tips his head, exhaling a warm and silent breath, and finding Larus' lips for a kiss-- not deep, but wanting.]
[ there's the immediate taste of dorian's drink when their mouths meet, the heat of his lips and skin soaking into larus and warming him in a way he hasn't experienced in so long. not since those nights spent tangled up in casimir's bedsheets and the fragrance of the incense he keeps tucked away in a safe place—the only memory of home he'd somehow brought with him aside from his sister's photo.
it pains him to think about it, to think about any of it. so, he doesn't. he buries it away somewhere else and presses into the contact to deepen it, to urge dorian to kiss him the way they've both obviously been thinking about. the hand in his shirt only tightens, his other used for balance against dorian's knee as he leans into him. he could overpower him, push him down into the cushions of the sofa they sit on and touch him. see what lies underneath all of his purposeful words and actions, but he's slow to do much just yet, wanting to savor this moment for what it is.
[Larus doesn't have to push hard. This is the sin Dorian indulges in most often, and there's a familiar thrill and outpouring of desire as lips part and he tastes the sweet chill of the other man's tongue. At the same time there is, too, a sudden warmth that passes over the ice that's encased his heart for months: a spark of a reminder that he's still alive, even if it's not enough to sustain him. But the ready acceptance is stirring, and Dorian meets the passion he feels emanating from the other man in equal measure, taking the hand on his knee at the wrist and putting it on his body. (Yes, please do touch him.)
His impression of the other man is deepening as he's met with, through the conversation happening between lips and hands, a depth of feeling that's only sometimes apparent in the softening and shifting of Larus' tone when they talk about difficult subjects. It's immediately addictive-- like delving through layers of stone only to find something warm, oppressive, and also somehow tender, encased within.
All of it will be something to stew in later when his mind isn't twisted up in the immediacy of the moment.
When Dorian pulls apart to take a breath, his eyes are darker and hooded with lust. There's no deeper reflection or momentary consideration of what's happening in favor of instinctual response. Without objections, he's going to draw the vampire against him again and into his lap, his lips falling upon Larus' neck in harder kisses interspersed with scrapes of teeth as he makes his way upward.]
[ it's too quick, too easy. larus senses the urgency and desire as soon as that hand is around his wrist, silently giving him permission to touch, and he tumbles into it without missing a beat, drowning in the taste, the sensation of heat and life that pours from him. his fingers seek out warm flesh under the hem of his clothes, flattening his palm against dorian's side so he can curve it around and feel the expanse of his back. but he fumbles when he's pulled forward, straddling him and finding an oddly uncomfortable tightness blooming in his chest with the pressure of dorian's mouth against his neck.
he makes a sound – a sigh, some displeased little thing – in the back of his throat and uses the hand still against his chest to push him backwards into the cushions. it's only a partial display of strength, ignoring the monstrous part of him that grows excited when he turns his head to press a kiss against dorian's jaw. larus follows it to his ear, listening to the rush of his heart hammering away, and it's his turn to mouth at dorian's neck, recalling suddenly that small detail about how he enjoys being bitten.
larus won't. he absolutely will not, but he only has so much control, taking the time to graze dorian's skin with the edge of his fangs like a promise. like he's thinking about it. that line he cannot cross though, not after they've already come this far and larus is all but outright admitting he wants dorian in a way that's not quite so platonic or practical. ]
[Dorian can't help the breath that leaves him at the feeling of fangs teasing against his neck. It's such a familiar and romantically-coded gesture to his body by now that his response is practically written into his nervous system.
He can, however, reach for control of the moments that follow as the rest of him starts catching up to what's happening. He opens his eyes (when did he shut them?), fixing Larus with a hard, but not cold, stare.]
Don't. [He's mastering himself quickly enough, but it's a struggle the entire way through. Taking a breath, Dorian reaches up to wrap fingers around Larus' jaw firmly. There's only a chance that this offering of fangs is meant to be more than a simple tasting of what could be, but it's too much.
As much as Dorian knows himself well enough to know it would sing directly to his rotten and debased core. How achingly bittersweet and pleasurable it would be, to again share himself with someone he feels connected to by being bound through blood.
That's the entire point, and why he's stopping Larus. For different reasons, this is a line too far for both of them.]
[ boundaries, he thinks, and it's good to know where he might have pushed too far. larus looks at him, suspended there like he's been caught. if he had to breathe, he would suddenly find that he couldn't, but all he does is swallow and turn his head away, letting his mouth brush at dorian's fingers before leaning back to sit.
it's such a small motion, his body already aching to be close again. to feel that warmth, to savor the angles and the way their mouths fit together. maybe he could take it again, but larus needs a moment to think, now uncertain if staying there is the best course of action for either of them. they should talk about it, and yet, larus finds that he's already grown tired of talking. at least about those things. ]
I won't. [ the words are rough, a bit pained. there's an apology somewhere that he can't force himself to give. so, he shakes his head, frustrated with himself. ] You know how I feel about it.
[ or larus assumes dorian does. how many times has he said that he doesn't take pleasure in biting? how many times would it take to see just how quickly that becomes a lie if he's hungry enough for it? ]
I heard you. [It's part of the reason why he stopped them from even playing at the idea-- that, and the need to clamp down on his own weakness before it threatened to tear him apart at the seams. The grip on Larus' jaw loosens, and Dorian's fingers drift to the man's hair instead, brushing through it with slow, caring fingers.]
That's why I helped. [Because the only way a temptation ever releases its hold is when someone gives into it. No matter how reprehensible the desire, that is the truth as Dorian understands it, and has understood ever since his true youth.]
[ larus wants to protest – something about not being a child, about having control – but he remains silent instead, eyes drifting closed for a moment to savor the touch of dorian's fingers through his hair. he's still straddled atop him, settled comfortably despite the momentary interruption, and the look he gives dorian is surprisingly gentle as he lifts his hand to lightly stroke his thumb against the curve of his cheek. ]
I like kissing you.
[ an absent thought but an honest one, murmured softly between them like it's their secret alone to have. it's something else for larus to admit it, but he wants dorian to know that he isn't opposed to more of that or even just sitting in his company for a while longer. ]
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I follow my instincts. [ as if that's all, but he pauses to consider before leading with: ] There's something easy about being with you. I don't know what it is. I don't even know if I like it. But it's there. I've only met one other person I can say that about, and he isn't here.
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So it doesn't concern you that I said I could have used and discarded you, if I so chose? [Rather than judgmental, he's... impressed.]
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[ larus pauses, considering. would he try chasing after whatever this is between them? a friendship, a convenience. he looks at dorian steadily for a while, trying to decide what else to say. there's not much else he wants to talk about, but there has to be a reason he's still there. ]
I don't know. I suppose we'll find out how I feel if you decide to try.
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(Because they have the circumstances that allow it.)
Dorian doesn't need to press any further about what he's heard.
The open-endedness and acceptance of the vampire's last comment brings a smile to his face.]
Do you want to spend the night, when the time comes? [Dorian suggests, abruptly.] My suite has a guest room that you're welcome to, and that may be more comfortable than the room you were given. It doesn't have a roommate, at any rate.
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larus is straightforward and not so mysterious. dorian, however, is someone he wants to slowly unravel and piece together. ]
That would leave me here all day. [ not that he's saying no. ] What do you suggest I do to pass the time? Unless you're planning to keep me company.
[ and it's not as if there's nothing to do. he could read, he could message people or browse more of the network. but larus prefers to be out and about among the city, in the thick of it. he'd grow bored and restless sitting still otherwise. ]
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As long as he hasn't met anyone who truly knows him (an ongoing risk, given the randomness of who seems to end up getting pulled into the city) the portrait has been safe hanging up in plain view in the room opposite his kitchen. Experience has taught him that most people, when faced with what looks like a dramatic (disgusting) and avant-garde (reprehensible) piece of artwork, will simply assume that its owner has eccentric tastes. But that won't be the case for long-- particularly not with the vampire seated next to him now if their friendship keeps deepening at the pace it has been.
He needs to find a bank, or some other form of impenetrable safekeeping for it, and that will take probing the network.]
I'd be pleased to have your company, or to let you sleep if you have any need during the day. If you get bored, I'm sure we'd be able to figure out something to pass the time.
[Also, part of him appreciates knowing that being here means Larus won't be getting jumped in the Down. He's not bothered that his roommate will be forced to cope with the loss.]
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[ the daylight hours are better spent honing connections and looking elsewhere to aim his interests while avoiding the sun. he should think about a contract that will likely come months from now, perhaps sooner rather than later to give him more freedom. he should think about the quota and everything else that's been laid in front of him. the choices he'll have to make and the things he does not yet know about dorian—whatever it is he doesn't say in the silence.
yet, he doesn't waste time on any of that. not yet. instead, finally remembering to move, he shifts forward in his seat and perhaps just a little closer to the other. ]
So I'd like to hear some of your other suggestions. Maybe any that don't include journaling.
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I have a piano arriving tomorrow. [A very appropriate use of the limited pre-job funds he's been allotted, yes, thank you.] I'll play you something. I have a ready catalog of music at my fingertips, along with most of the body of Chopin's work. [A beat, and then he explains:] He's a famous composer from my world.
[He's trying, for once, to be good. There's a temptation to offer more, but he isn't certain yet-- if Larus is susceptible to his influence, as a young vampire just having gone through (by his own terms) the trauma of his own death. Some part of him still seems to believe he can exist without manipulating others, and without that abstention leading to his own suffering. Dorian isn't sure he wants to impede upon that in a more personal sense yet.
Being good is always a vanity project for him and he's aware of that, but at least it still pays off in positive ways for the people around him. Harm reduction may be the least that he can do, but in this case he likes to think that Toby would approve.]
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I've never had an ear for music, but I'd like to know more about the things in your world. [ some of it feels similar to him, like he's stepped into an alternate version of his own. larus' expression lightens, almost amused. ] Are you an artist too?
[ meaning did he paint or draw. since he writes and is also musically inclined. those particular things larus never had too much interest in as a boy and still hadn't by the time he'd come of age. not that his parents had really cared about that, but it had left him with a lot of time on his hands to fill in his own way.
if larus is thinking of more or even suggesting more, it might not come for a while. no matter how intensely he listens to the steady thrum of dorian's heartbeat. ]
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[Thinking about it does send an odd shock through his system that he hasn't had time to realize yet: none of what was once readily available to him is accessible here. Whole volumes of words, entire collections of illustrations, and all of those copies of plays and poetry gifted to him by dear, long-dead friends. Everything's trapped back in his own world and gathering dust in his home. All of it he can live without, but in time he knows he'll miss and crave it.
He'll have to start searching for new art and elevated words to fill in the chasm.]
If you aren't that interested in music, what's something you like to do?
['I don't care' is a common refrain from Larus, so it'll be interesting to see if he does have some kind of passion tucked away like a buried treasure.]
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I haven't thought about it in a long time. [ it's not an 'i don't know', but it's close. ] I liked swimming though. Being outdoors. I used to scale the cliffs by the seaside with a friend of mine before my family moved to the Dusk.
[ he wasn't so wild as egil, only choosing the freedom of being away from his parents when he could, but it's something he had liked. it reminds him just how different the dusk is, how bleak and drenched in crime the further one crawled into the district. but larus can't afford those memories now, meeting dorian's eyes with just a hint of a smile pulling at his mouth. almost fond despite the particular heaviness of what he says next. ]
My sister would like you. You have a lot of the same interests.
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So he pushes the thought away. There's a deeply tempting self-indulgence in reaching for shreds of an old lover in someone new, but it's not the same, and never will it be. As long as he's dwelling, he'll stay as frozen in place as he has been for months.
And isn't that the whole point of a new start, regardless of whether it's forced upon him or not? To try and make something new against all odds?]
Let's do that, then, [Dorian decides. He's insistent, suddenly invigorated.] I'm sure this place has something approaching a body of water. We could go there at night, and bring candles and a blanket to make it day under the stars.
[Paper over, in part, the aching wound in his heart with something different, with someone he's coming to trust.]
And you can tell me about your sister. [His voice evens out, softening in response to what's clearly a painful topic.]
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not right now. maybe not even later. ]
It's sounds like you're asking to take me out.
[ his tone might imply a tease, but it's much too soft for that. larus would rather deflect to anything else other than talking about sofie. how much he misses her, how he'd forced himself to stay away with the thought that mourning his death would be better than knowing what had actually happened to him. it is painful, and he's not quite there yet to even begin to speak much on it. ]
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But it is convincing.]
Is there something wrong with that?
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[ but he only thinks it because it's not something he's used to. this kind of attention, the earnest way they always seem to meet and come together. there's something there, something larus can't put his finger on, and it's going to consume him the longer they're around one another.
his voice is softer still. ] Is that something you want?
notifs doing me dirty ):<
Nothing would delight me more.
[Reaching out a hand, Dorian brushes strands of thick, wavy hair out of Larus' face as they slide to cover his cheek when he dips his head slightly. A smile curving his lips, Dorian leans in to press his lips against the vampire's cool forehead. Like any creature preserved eternally in a moment of youth, his skin is soft.]
Come with me. I haven't seen the ocean in some time, either. We'll visit it again together.
they just don't want them to kiss
You only have to tell me when.
[ it's quiet agreement, turning his face ever so slightly and conscious of the position of his mouth near dorian's jaw. all of this is dangerous, and he shouldn't allow himself to want any of it. still, it doesn't keep him from encouraging it, like he has something to prove by not pulling away. ]
too bad for them!!
It turns out to be the right choice, as cool fingers weave into the fabric of his shirt. That little touch is all it takes to tip him over the edge of reaching for a temptation that's burned in him on and off in Larus' company. Whether it's a good choice or not --aligned with his desire to be good around this young immortal-- is a thought that's shrugged off in favor of impulsive need the same way so many similar ones have been over hundreds of years.
Dorian slips his fingers more deeply into Larus' hair, his hand eventually falling to the back of the vampire's neck to draw him in. He tips his head, exhaling a warm and silent breath, and finding Larus' lips for a kiss-- not deep, but wanting.]
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it pains him to think about it, to think about any of it. so, he doesn't. he buries it away somewhere else and presses into the contact to deepen it, to urge dorian to kiss him the way they've both obviously been thinking about. the hand in his shirt only tightens, his other used for balance against dorian's knee as he leans into him. he could overpower him, push him down into the cushions of the sofa they sit on and touch him. see what lies underneath all of his purposeful words and actions, but he's slow to do much just yet, wanting to savor this moment for what it is.
for what it might lead to in the future. ]
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His impression of the other man is deepening as he's met with, through the conversation happening between lips and hands, a depth of feeling that's only sometimes apparent in the softening and shifting of Larus' tone when they talk about difficult subjects. It's immediately addictive-- like delving through layers of stone only to find something warm, oppressive, and also somehow tender, encased within.
All of it will be something to stew in later when his mind isn't twisted up in the immediacy of the moment.
When Dorian pulls apart to take a breath, his eyes are darker and hooded with lust. There's no deeper reflection or momentary consideration of what's happening in favor of instinctual response. Without objections, he's going to draw the vampire against him again and into his lap, his lips falling upon Larus' neck in harder kisses interspersed with scrapes of teeth as he makes his way upward.]
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he makes a sound – a sigh, some displeased little thing – in the back of his throat and uses the hand still against his chest to push him backwards into the cushions. it's only a partial display of strength, ignoring the monstrous part of him that grows excited when he turns his head to press a kiss against dorian's jaw. larus follows it to his ear, listening to the rush of his heart hammering away, and it's his turn to mouth at dorian's neck, recalling suddenly that small detail about how he enjoys being bitten.
larus won't. he absolutely will not, but he only has so much control, taking the time to graze dorian's skin with the edge of his fangs like a promise. like he's thinking about it. that line he cannot cross though, not after they've already come this far and larus is all but outright admitting he wants dorian in a way that's not quite so platonic or practical. ]
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He can, however, reach for control of the moments that follow as the rest of him starts catching up to what's happening. He opens his eyes (when did he shut them?), fixing Larus with a hard, but not cold, stare.]
Don't. [He's mastering himself quickly enough, but it's a struggle the entire way through. Taking a breath, Dorian reaches up to wrap fingers around Larus' jaw firmly. There's only a chance that this offering of fangs is meant to be more than a simple tasting of what could be, but it's too much.
As much as Dorian knows himself well enough to know it would sing directly to his rotten and debased core. How achingly bittersweet and pleasurable it would be, to again share himself with someone he feels connected to by being bound through blood.
That's the entire point, and why he's stopping Larus. For different reasons, this is a line too far for both of them.]
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it's such a small motion, his body already aching to be close again. to feel that warmth, to savor the angles and the way their mouths fit together. maybe he could take it again, but larus needs a moment to think, now uncertain if staying there is the best course of action for either of them. they should talk about it, and yet, larus finds that he's already grown tired of talking. at least about those things. ]
I won't. [ the words are rough, a bit pained. there's an apology somewhere that he can't force himself to give. so, he shakes his head, frustrated with himself. ] You know how I feel about it.
[ or larus assumes dorian does. how many times has he said that he doesn't take pleasure in biting? how many times would it take to see just how quickly that becomes a lie if he's hungry enough for it? ]
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That's why I helped. [Because the only way a temptation ever releases its hold is when someone gives into it. No matter how reprehensible the desire, that is the truth as Dorian understands it, and has understood ever since his true youth.]
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I like kissing you.
[ an absent thought but an honest one, murmured softly between them like it's their secret alone to have. it's something else for larus to admit it, but he wants dorian to know that he isn't opposed to more of that or even just sitting in his company for a while longer. ]
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omg i'm so sorry
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interesting that theyโre hesitant about the exact opposite things
they're honestly ridiculous and i love them for it
800% ridiculous and itโs great
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