formmusebox | for Dorian (makingmyway)

for Dorian (makingmyway)

(( continuation of this au ))

[It has been a hell of a night. This isn't exactly unusual, really. Orym realizes he's lucky enough to have a roof over his head given the debt that he owes, and if he doesn't work, that debt won't pay off itself. But he's still ready to call it a night and deal with the repercussions of that come tomorrow.

His last client had been... unkind. He has a reputation for being able to handle himself, despite his size, so it's not a surprise that he winds up with clients who have a taste for rough. And he can handle himself, but that doesn't mean he isn't sore and exhausted and worn down by it.

There's a large bruise in the shape of a hand at his throat, that he has tried to hide with a collar of ivy and flowers, bitemarks and other assorted bruises that are only mostly hidden by the scant clothing that he's currently wearing. He had to come out long enough to be on stage or he might have stayed in his room after the man left. But dancing is fine; he likes the dancing. He can fall into the music, into the feeling of letting his body move to the rhythm, let the rest of his thoughts fall away. It reminds him of combat in a way, and there's some familiarity in that.

But dancing done, he hops down from the stage and looks around, very ready to stealth off, when a flash of blue stops him in his tracks. Is that..? Did he actually come back?]

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[Orym lifts a hand to his own neck, and the collar of vines and flowers unwinds and falls away so that Dorian can see the extent of the bruise there, a perfect hand shape.]

I mean, not a great time. [A shrug of one shoulder.] He paid at least?

[So that's... something. Besides, it's nothing he won't heal from before all that long.] It's only a bruise.

[One of a number of bruises, but still, only bruises. The annoying part is that he could have taken the asshole down to the ground in an instant if he'd tried, but he's not a fighter anymore, and the job is more dealing with it.]

[ Dorian sucks in another breath as the collar falls away, revealing the entire shape of purple mottled skin around Orym’s neck, looking much worse than he’d thought.

And as he’s inspecting it, he can’t keep his eyes from trailing down, once again reminded of some others he’d caught sight of under his clothing. ]

Not just one bruise. [ His hand trails down, fingers lightly tracing over some of the darker ones that could be seen through Orym’s top.

And he can’t help a rush of sudden anger, thinking of someone treating Orym in such a way to leave such marks on his skin. ]

Dorian... [Murmured softly as he lets his hands come to settle at Dorian's cheeks, thumbs brushing there, soft and soothing. He leans close to brush their noses together before resting his forehead against Dorian's.]

It's all right. You don't need to worry about me.

[Dorian isn't here to worry about him, and the last thing Orym wants is for this to ruin the other man's time here, especially when he's come back after such a long time.]

That's not why you're here.

[ Dorian can’t help a frown, even as he leans against Orym in return, his hands gently stroking the front of Orym’s chest. ]

I’m here to see you, Orym. It doesn’t really matter to me what we do. And I don’t want you to force yourself to do anything if you’re hurt.

[Orym is the one to lean back this time, eyes widening at the words like they don't entirely make sense to him. Dorian can't actually mean that. But oh the warmth that's spreading through his chest is overwhelming, an ache that is so much more distracting than the lingering pain from the bruises.]

I... [He won't tear up at that. He won't. Fuck he is.]

It's not forcing anything if it's you. [There's not even pretense if it's Dorian. But, still, he ducks his head so that Dorian can't see the shine in his eyes.]

Will you still stay?

[ Dorian doesn’t quite notice the tears in Orym’s eyes, though he still looks on with a worried expression. But the question gets a small smile, and he can’t help placing a gentle kiss to Orym’s temple. When he answers, his tone is entirely fond. ]

I told you, I’ve got all night.

[ Then, glancing around for a moment, he gently bounces his legs to draw Orym’s attention back to him. ]

Here…let me up a minute?

[Orym looks back up at Dorian at the kiss to his temple. Good. He's glad at least he hasn't frightened the other man off just yet.

A soft surprised squawk at the bouncing, but he nodded, and slipped off Dorian's lap to his feet.]

Of course. Do you need something?

[ Dorian chuckles softly, gesturing towards the bed as he gets to his feet. ]

All I need is for you to sit back down.

[ He doesn’t wait to see if Orym does, though, as he walks over to a table where he’d noticed a pitcher, and as he peeks into it he’s pleased to see it filled with slices of citrus along with some water. So he busies himself a moment to pour some water into a cup before returning to Orym and holding it out to him. ]

Here…drink.

[Orym fits Dorian with a skeptical look but does sit himself back on the bed, hopping up, his legs dangling, not quite touching the floor. He watches Dorian curiously, trying to hold himself back from getting up to help him with whatever he's looking for.

He blinks in surprise as he's handed a cup of water.]

Thank you.

[Taking it from Dorian's hand, he looks at him in plain confusion now. What is this what is going on? Orym is in no way used to being cared for.]

[ While Orym drinks, Dorian removes his cloak and drapes it over a nearby chair, then sits on the edge of the bed again next to Orym to remove his boots.

Whenever Orym finishes the water, Dorian will take the cup from him to set it on the bedside table. ]

There is something I’d like to do, if you’ll let me. [ He glances at Orym with a shy smile. ] Do you trust me?

[Orym drinks the water, but he's still watching Dorian over the rim of the glass like he's still putting this together in his mind. He finishes and lets the cup be taken, turning a little where he's sitting on the bed, hitching one leg up.]

I... yeah, of course I do.

[He trusts him probably more than he should for someone he's only met twice. Something about him is... well. No need to chase down that path right now.]

[ With another smile, Dorian nods and leans in to press a gentle kiss to Orym’s lips. When he draws back, it’s just enough space to breathe between them. ]

Lie on the bed for me?

[Orym leans into the kiss, chasing it as it breaks. He nods and settles back onto the bed, lying back into the pillows and watching Dorian curiously.]

What've you got in mind?

[ He waits until Orym is settled, then crawls up after him. But he sits next to Orym, legs folded underneath him as he gazes down at the other man. ]

I…I’d like to see…where you’re hurt. Everywhere that he…he marked you.

[ He needs to know how many bruises and marks there are, to be able to judge how much healing magic he’ll need to use. ]

Oh.

[Orym looks up at him once more, considering protesting that he really is okay and Dorian doesn't need to worry. Again. But something that he sees in the other man's gaze stills the protest.

So instead he sits up and pulls his shirt off and over his head. He sets a hand at his throat lightly.] You saw this one...

[He will let Dorian see the others. A bruise at a shoulder blade from being thrown against the floor, an unkind bitemark bruising one pectoral, another visible on his untattooed bicep. He hesitates another moment before shifting his pants down just enough to show the start of two hand shaped bruises at his hips.

He's not sure why Dorian wants to see them, not sure if the very clear evidence that he's been with someone else tonight bothers him.]

[ Dorian’s expression tightens as Orym reveals the extent of his injuries, the worried lines in his brow growing with each new bruise and bite that’s shown.

He has to swallow down the angry lump forming in his throat. He knows that some people enjoy this kind of thing, but the way Orym acts about them tells him that these marks hadn’t been wanted.

When Orym finishes, Dorian finally leans over him to press another gentle kiss to his lips, lightly tracing the bruise at his throat with careful fingers. When he draws away this time, he hums a gentle song against Orym’s lips, sending a rush of cool healing magic to soothe the angry marks in his skin. ]

[Orym can't read the expression on Dorian's face, and it worries him. He starts to speak again but the other man is leaning close and Orym relaxes at the kiss. Then it'll be all right.

He's not expecting the cool, soothing wash of magic that flows through him, over his skin, coaxing bruises and aches into dissolving into nothing. His breath catching at the realization of what Dorian is doing.]

Dorian... [A soft murmur of his name. He didn't have to do that. They were bruises, and they would have healed with time but somehow the realization that the other man did this for him, used his magic for him...

He winds his arms around Dorian's neck and kisses him again.] Thank you.

[ The arms around his neck surprises him a little, but he smiles as he finally settles to lie down besides Orym, resting an arm over the halfling’s waist as he returns the kiss. ]

You’re welcome. You took such good care of me last time, so I just…I wanted to do something for you this time.

[Orym seems to go utterly boneless when that arm comes around him, relaxing into Dorian with a soft hum to his lips.]

That's...

[Honestly that's unheard of is what it is. No one takes care of him, and it feels strange... but it also feels kind of wonderful. Really wonderful. His chest feels warm. And now Dorian is holding him again.

It's nice, being held by someone this gentle and kind, someone who genuinely makes his heart flutter.]

[ He watches Orym for a moment, trying to take in his expression as doubt somehow starts to creep in to his mind once again. ]

…I-I mean…I suppose I should have asked first. You’d said it was a bad time, but I’ve heard some people like that? Or, um…I’m sorry if I overstepped or anything…

[ How he manages to second-guess healing someone will probably remain a mystery. ]

[Orym finds himself blinking at Dorian. Is... is he apologizing for healing him?]

Dorian...

[Just his name soft and almost painfully fond.]

Thank you for doing that. I'm not used to anyone caring that much, that's all. It's really nice.

[He leans in to steal another kiss.]

I don't mind things a little rough, sometimes. [He admits, but his voice falls quiet.] But not like that.

That was... [Well, the chokehold had been the worst of it, especially since he thinks he blacked out a little at some point.] It wasn't good. So I'm really glad it's gone... [The proof of it, the bruises, the bites, all of it.]

[ His mouth snaps shut at the way Orym says his name, abruptly halting his rambling thoughts. The kiss relaxes him a moment, and he makes a soft sound as he returns it.

But as Orym continues, his expression saddens, and his fingers gently stroke over Orym’s throat, where the worst of the bruises had been. ]

I’m glad I could help with that at least. But I’m sorry that happened to you at all.

[There's Dorian caring again. He shakes his head.] It's fine, really. It happens sometimes.

And besides, I'm much better now.

[His skin tingles beneath that soft touch.]

[ Dorian hums, an unhappy sound just thinking of how often something like that can happen. But he tamps it down for now, as his fingers drift up to caress Orym’s jaw. ]

Well…I’m glad you’re doing better. But maybe you should get some more rest. It looks like you could use it.

You're here.

[Orym shakes his head.] I don't want to miss this.

[It's been months, and Dorian is finally back here. How could he do something like sleep when he's just now back in Dorian's arms.]

I feel much better anyway. [He turns into that touch, nuzzling into those fingers.]

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