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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[ He chuckles softly, hitching Orym a little higher to make sure he has a secure hold on him before heading towards Orym’s room. After visiting every day for a week, he could find his way to that room with his eyes closed. ]

Well, hopefully you’ll like the surprise I have for you, then.

[This works for Orym. He is happy to be carried away from all of this, to his room where they can close the door and pretend there's nothin in the world but the two of them.]

I'm sure I'll love it. [He's confident about this, if it's Dorian.]

[ Finding Orym’s room is easy enough, and once he steps inside he closes and locks the door behind him. Then he heads over to the bed, settling down with Orym in his lap to keep from losing any kind of contact with him. ]

I wasn’t sure what kind of instruments the musicians have available here, besides the lute. [ Reaching into his pack, he pulls out what looks like sheet music. ] So this will would sound best on the lute.

[ As he retrieves the music though, what looks like a couple of stones tumble out of his pack as well and land softly on the bed. ]

[Dorian's lap is precisely where he'd hoped to end up, so there's a fairly smug little smile on his face as he settles. At least until Dorian starts speaking and Orym looks at him in curiosity that quickly turns into wonder at what Dorian has produced from his pack.]

You wrote me a song?

[The question is breathless. This may be the sweetest thing that anyone has done for him. He reaches for the papers to take them carefully in his fingers, though he pauses.]

You dropped something, I think. [He gestures to the stones.]

[ With a smile, he nods and holds out the sheet music to Orym. ]

I got the inspiration that day you showed me the Zeph'aeratam. And even though this is more suited for your routine on stage, I’m hoping the music captures the same feeling.

[ He’d done his best to write the music to compliment Orym’s graceful movements, a drifting melody to help with feeling that he’s floating.

When Orym mentions something else though, he glances to the side and finds the stones. Then he flushes a bit and scoops them up, and suddenly he seems unable to meet Orym’s eyes. ]

A-Ah…right. Thanks.

[Orym looks it over. His knowledge of music is rudimentary at best, but he's certain it will be beautiful. And more important than that, Dorian wrote it for him, was thinking of him even outside the walls of the brothel, and this is proof.

He looks from the sheet back to Dorian with a smile that looks almost awed.]

I can't wait to hear it... and to dance to it.

[But he also notices that flush and the way that Dorian is avoiding his gaze. Hmm. He sets the sheet music aside on the table, making sure it'll be safe there, before he scoots closer in Dorians lap and kisses at his cheek, nuzzling there.]

What've you got there, Dorian?

Well, maybe see if you like it first before deciding whether to dance to it or not.

[ He hesitates a moment, turning the two stones in his hand even as he leans into that nuzzle. He’d purchased the stones on a whim one day when he’d been attending to some business in town, but the part of him that always second-guesses himself wonders if it was a good idea to get them after all. Would it come off as clingy, or even obsessive?

Biting his lip, he then sighs and opens his hand to reveal the stones in his palm. Might as well let Orym decide for himself. ]

These are…Sending Stones.

You wrote it. I'll love it.

[That's just the way this goes. Orym has realized this much as true and has accepted it.

But he's distracted now by watching Dorian, that bite at his lip before he shows the stones in his hand. The halfling looks curious before the other man explains.]

I've never seen those in person before.

[His fingertips brush along one of the stones in Dorian's palm, making no move to take it because it can't possibly be--]

Are they for us?

[There's that hopeful note in his voice once more.]

I hope so.

[ Even with the one time Orym had heard him play his flute earlier this week, he hasn’t played any of his original songs. So he can only hope the halfling will like what he’s written for him.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nods and takes one of the stones to hold out to Orym. ]

If…If you’d like it. I thought maybe, since my schedule will go back to being so unpredictable, we could use these to keep in touch. I can let you know when I’ll be able to come by. Or we can even just…talk…if you want…

[ His voice trails off as the blush returns, and he once again can’t meet Orym’s eyes, worried that it might seem a bit…possessive? Like it would seem as though he’s keeping tabs on Orym, and that it would come across as kind of creepy. ]

[Orym reaches and takes that stone that Dorian is holding out to him, fingers closing around it. If it were anyone else it might have seemed like some controlling gesture, but it's nothing like that with Dorian. The other man has always only ever wanted Orym to be himself. And oh Orym has fallen for him, and he knows it. And the idea of having this connection even when tonight ends, when Dorian goes back to his life and he won't know when he'll see him again? It eases some of the turmoil that has been roiling in him.]

I want.

[Orym assures him, holding the stone tightly even as he wraps his arms around him securely, molds himself up against Dorian.]

I'd like that, to talk to you, even when you aren't here. Might help with missing you.

[ He’s finally able to lift his gaze when Orym takes the stone, his heart jumping into his throat in hope that the other man would want to keep in touch. This past week has been more than Dorian could have ever dreamed of, and he knows that he’s fallen so hard for the halfling.

And thinking that Orym still might want to stay connected after all this sends a wave of affection rushing through him. ]

Y-Yeah…? O-Okay, yeah…! I’d…I’d really like to keep talking with you too.

[ Because he will absolutely be missing him until he has the chance to visit again. ]

[Moments like this are the most dangerous, he thinks, because he feels like he might be more than just a pleasant distraction for Dorian, that maybe the other man really does see him as something more than a whore.

It makes him want to wrap himself around Dorian, to beg him not to go, or to take Orym with him, away from this place. Dangerous ideas when his heart is already lost to Dorian. To distract himself from those thoughts, he leans in to kiss him.]

Good. Then we will. [And then another kiss before Orym goes and says something stupid.]

[ Dorian’s breath hitches softly at the kiss, and his arms wrap around Orym’s waist to hold him closer.

If he thought that he could, he would absolutely whisk Orym away from this life, take him someplace where he could be safe and loved as he deserves to be. But until he can figure out his own life, he wouldn’t be able to provide for Orym.

Not yet, at least. But maybe he could work up to that someday.

It’s a thought at least, but something to consider for later. Right now, the halfling in his arms is very distracting, as he tilts his head to seal their lips together for a deeper kiss. ]

[Distraction is exactly what Orym is going for right now, both Dorian and himself. If he's distracted by kissing him, by touching him, then he can't think about tomorrow coming, about this little fantasy they've been living coming to an end.

So he moans as the kiss deepens, fingers gripping at Dorian's clothes.]

Dorian...

[He breaks from his lips with a breathless moan of his name, a plea in and of itself, unspoken. Make love to me. But no, there are things he can't ask for, and he knows it.]

Fuck me, Dorian.

[He can ask for that though.]

Make me yours tonight.

[As if I'm not already.]

[ Dorian shivers, the sounds Orym makes and the feel of him sending heat rushing through his body. The soft plea in the other man’s voice shoots straight to his heart, and with a nod, he swallows the request with another kiss, guiding him down onto the bed.

Lying over him and caging him between his arms, he finally pulls back to look down at him, taking in the sight of this gentle man that captured his heart. ]

All right, Orym. I’ll make you mine.

[ For tonight, no matter how much he wants it to be for always. He can give Orym this at least, to last until his next visit.

Whenever that will be. ]

[Orym murmurs a low sound as he finds himself kissed and laid back against the bed. He's breathless as Dorian breaks the kiss, looking up at the other man with a smile, desire and affection tangled together in his expression.

Tonight is enough, he tells himself. Tonight will have to be enough.]

Yours...

[He agrees, a promise, a vow, truer than Dorian can know. He arches up against him, hands finding their way to start unfastening Dorian's clothes.]

[ He swallows thickly, the single word piercing his heart more than Orym might realize, more than he probably intended. If only it could be true.

Pushing the thoughts down, he kisses Orym again, deeper and hungrier than he’s let himself be during their time together before. But he wants to let Orym know how much he wants him, even if he can’t say it out loud.

As Orym starts to work open his clothes, Dorian’s lips trail down his jaw to his neck, kissing along the column of it. Then he nips softly, though a bit tentatively, as if silently seeking permission to do more. ]

[Orym will have to wrestle with this in himself, in the place where his heart used to be since he has gone and lost it entirely to this beautiful man that he knew could never really be his.

He focuses on this moment, on the kiss that finds his lips, surprised -- but oh so pleased -- by the hunger that he finds there, the overwhelming sense of being wanted enough to have the halfling arching up against Dorian already, losing a soft moan to those lips before the kiss breaks.

He manages to unfasten as much of Dorian's shirt a she can, hands finding their way beneath fabric now, over soft skin, the angles and contours of a body that he has spent this past week learning by heart.

Those teeth have his breath catching, and he lets his head fall back, baring his neck to that attention.]

Please, Dorian... [A ragged breath before he exhales another plea.] Mark me.

[ Dorian wants to commit this moment to memory; of Orym’s body pressing into his own, the feeling of the halfling’s hands across his skin, the delicious sounds he makes. If this was going to be the last they could have for a while, he wanted to make sure they would both look back on it fondly.

And hearing those words on Orym’s lips has him shivering, and he works the spot more firmly with his teeth until a mark blossoms, before running over the spot with his tongue.

Then his hands briefly draw away from Orym, just enough to shrug out of his shirt before they return, rucking up Orym’s shirt now as his hands explore the plane of his body. ]

[Orym's voice catches and his eyes flutter shut almost as if the pressure of those teeth is more than his senses can handle in the moment. It's good, so very good, and he knows he'll have that mark to remind him of this for at least a while longer, after Dorian has returned home.

He opens his eyes in time to watch the other man strip out of his shirt, not bothering to hide the sheer hunger in his eyes that Dorian stirs up in him.

Those hands on him are deliciously distracting though, and he arches into the touch, arms stretching above his head long enough to strip his own shirt off as well.]

[ Orym is too beautiful. As Dorian gently pulls the shirt over his head, he can’t help just gazing at him for a moment, taking in the sight of the halfling laid out before him, tanned skin and lithe muscles in such a compact form. And those eyes, meeting his own so full of desire that Dorian’s mouth goes dry.

Then he lowers himself again, his lips trailing across the newly exposed chest, his fingers teasing at the buds of his nipples as he kiss across the raised flesh of some older scars, following the path he’d learned after getting to know Orym’s body this past week. ]

[Orym reaches for him once his arms are free once more, like keeping his hands away from Dorian is impossible to do, needing to touch him, to be touched by him, for this to be real while it's still real.

His eyes fall shut as those lips move over his chest.]

Ah... Dorian...

[He exhales the name in a moan, a prayer more than anything else. His fingers found their way into his hair, working it loose from its tie.]

[ Hearing the way Orym breathes his name sends a surge of heat through him, pooling straight to his core. With a groan of his own, he gently pinches the hard buds between his fingers before his hands trail down lower, teasing at the hem of his pants as he continues to kiss across his stomach.

Feeling his hair loosen, he shivers, the strands brushing over Orym’s skin. ]

[Orym squirms against the bed as Dorian continues that attention, voice catching at the pinch to his nipple, the faint sting of it going straight to his cock. Those hands are so close to where he oh so desperately needs to be touched, his arousal already fully hard, from the sheer overwhelming desire he feels for Dorian.

All other thoughts have slipped away, and this man, this moment, it's all that matters. The silken brush of that hair over his skin sends a thrill through him, a shiver racing over his skin like lightning skimming across the surface of water.

His fingers bury properly into his hair, tugging before soothing his fingers through soft strands almost apologetically.]

[ He moans at the tug to his hair, and presses up against Orym’s hand even as he works the ties of Orym’s pants open. Gently tugging them down over graceful legs, Dorian deliberately avoids his straining arousal as he instead kisses the inside of one of Orym’s thighs, before giving the other the same attention. ]

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