Orym of the Air Ashari (
bigmoonlittlemoon) wrote in
formmusebox2023-03-28 01:14 am
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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?]
[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’s naturally an early riser himself, and that should give him enough time to get back before anyone realizes he’s gone.
The question has him blushing a bit, and he avoids Orym’s gaze sheepishly. ]
Ah…sort of? Aspiring, I suppose you could say. [ He winces, because that still doesn’t feel right. ] It’s…more of a hobby, really. I’ve written some music, but haven’t…played anywhere or anything.
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[This is excellent news, so far as Orym is concerned. It means that he will have Dorian's arms to stay in the rest of the night. It's a very pleasant idea, one that is dangerous in how appealing it is.
He's going to get his own heart broken, and he knows it.]
Could I hear it sometime? I'd really like to. [He gets the distinct impression that Dorian is the type to undersell himself at every opportunity.]
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The request does cause his blush to darken, and he ducks his head, burying his face in Orym’s hair in an attempt to hide. ]
Um…I-I guess, if you…if you really want to.
[ He is already turning around ideas for a song that could accompany Orym’s dancing, though he won’t say that out loud. ]
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He smiles at the darker blush he sees there before Dorian goes and hides. Cute. Very cute.]
I really want to.
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A-All right. I can…bring my flute next time, if you want.
[ The flute should be small enough to bring with him. ]
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[The flute, the chance to hear Dorian play, to have a next time. All of those things.
His arm settles more securely around Dorian. In another life, maybe, where their circumstances weren't so drastically divergent, Orym thinks maybe this could really have been something.]
Especially the next time part. [He admits, voice a whisper, like it's a secret.]
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Next time could be sooner…if you like. I, uh…I have a lot of time this week, kind of like a vacation of sorts. So I can come by a few times this week, if…that’s okay.
[ Maybe not everyday this week, not wanting to seem desperate or take up too much of Orym’s time. But pretty often
(though he’ll likely be back everyday anyway). ]no subject
[Orym lifts his head to look at Dorian better. He fails utterly at keeping that breathless hope from his voice. But how could he help it? Dorian is a breath of fresh air, kind and beautiful and safe and warm.]
That's so much more than okay.
[He'll keep his time clear as best he can.]
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Y-Yeah? Okay uh, great! Yeah, uh, I’ll make sure to be here. Hopefully around the same time as tonight.
[ Maybe he should find a way to get in touch with Orym, to let him know when he’d be able to come by… ]
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[Genuinely and fully looking forward to it. Already he seems brighter than he did when Dorian arrived. And yes, okay, the healing spell helped with that, but it's more than that. The healing spell can't be the reason his heart feels so much lighter.
He's very certain it has a lot to do with Dorian just being here.]
I'm glad I met you, Dorian.
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With a smile and a nod, he gently runs his fingers through Orym’s short hair, before gently kissing the top of his head. ]
I’m really glad to have met you too, Orym.
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If we're getting up at dawn, we should probably sleep.
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That might be a good idea. [ He’s certainly in favor of Orym getting more rest. ] Will you be able to get up at dawn?
[ He gets up pretty early, but he still has to make sure he has time to get back home before he’s missed, and it’s all too tempting to just sleep wrapped up in Orym’s arms. ]
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[Orym assures him. Even if lingering in Dorian's arms is tempting as all hell. It's ingrained in him by now that he wakes with the sun and starts moving. Most nights it means he gets very little sleep given that the job often keeps him up late.]
It's old habit by now.
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[ Another nod as he settles more against Orym, holding the halfling closer. ]
Is…this okay?
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[Orym murmurs, thoroughly content and sleepy. He tilts his chin up to graze a kiss along Dorian's jawline, soft and tender, all affection. Settling an arm around Dorian in turn, he tucks himself up against the other man and lets his eyes fall shut.]
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The first rays of the sun do still wake him, even if as he opens his eyes to see Dorian's face there's a wash of temptation to linger. No, Dorian needs to leave. Orym knows this.
He leans up to press a kiss to his forehead, to each closed eye, the tip of his nose, and finally his lips.]
It's morning, Beautiful. The sun is rising.
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And maybe it’s due to his own fatigue after the past couple of months, or maybe it’s because of the warm company, but he sleeps deeper than any time he can ever remember.
So much so that when Orym gently starts to rouse him in the morning, he murmurs in sleepy protest, snuggling closer to Orym while trying to cling to the last bit of slumber, even as the light kisses cause a shiver to travel along his spine. ]
Mm…?
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For now though, he'll enjoy every moment of it.
He exhales a soft laugh, pressing another kiss to his lips, then another.]
While I would love to keep you in my bed all morning, I don't think we have that luxury. So wake up and kiss me.
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If only he could wake up like this all the time.
Pushing that thought aside, he smiles and does as asked, catching Orym’s lips in a gentle kiss. ]
Good morning.
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Good morning.
[He echoes with another quick kiss before informing Dorian.] You make it very hard to want to get out of bed.
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Mm…you’re pretty distracting yourself, honestly. It would be nice to just stay like this for a while.
[ Just the two of them. ]
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[Orym murmurs, a note of longing that he can't keep out of his voice. He really could pretend. He could pretend that outside the curtained window there was nothing but a flower filled garden glowing in the early morning sunlight, that beyond the door a small kitchen where he could make tea and cook breakfast for this beautiful man in his bed. He could pretend the door doesn't lead to a dimly lit hallway in a brothel, that Dorian didn't have to leave, that Orym wouldn't be taking other men to his bed over and over again and pretending they had impossibly bright blue eyes and a gentle smile.
But it would only be pretend. He knows that. He really does.]
But you'll be back soon.
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It was a nice dream, but…that’s all it would ever be. ]
Yeah, I’ll come back soon.
[ He brushes his lips over Orym’s again before finally - reluctantly - drawing away to sit up in the bed. ]
But for now, you were going to show me you practicing with your sword?
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