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 is grateful for that arm around him, not entirely trusting his legs to hold him up the more that Dorian's fingers ply at that spot inside him, pushing closer and closer to that edge before withdrawing at that last moment.

The halfling cries out in loss, feeling his hole clenching at nothing now, feeling empty and needing and the first touch of that blunt, heated cock against his entrance has him gasping, exhaling that breath in a string of whimpered pleas.]

Gods, yes please, Dorian. Need you inside me. Fuck me now. Please!

[ His heart skips, hearing Orym begging so desperately for him. He kisses him at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. ]

Well, since you asked so nicely.

[ With that, he doesn’t waste anymore time, pressing into Orym’s tight hole. He chokes back a sound at the way those walls immediately grip at him, a familiar but still incredible feeling. He moves slowly, but doesn’t stop until he’s entirely hilted into Orym’s passage, taking a breath when he’s flush up against him to give them both a moment to adjust. ]

You feel so good for me, Orym…

[Orym can feel himself blushing at those words, but there's still a thrill racing through him at the sound of them and at the feeling of Dorian finally sinking inside him, his cock stretching him open and filling him up with his cock.

He's panting softly, each breath exhaled in a low whine until that moment that he can feel Dorian's hips flush to his ass, knows the other is fully buried inside him.]

So do you... so good... so full of you...

[The words are just tumbling past his lips now. He glances back over his shoulder at the other man.] Dorian...

[ A groan rises from his throat as he takes a moment to enjoy the feeling of Orym around him; the tight heat that grips at him sends a ripple throughout his body, and the arm around Orym’s waist tightens its hold slightly, keeping him close.

When the halfling looks at him, though, he can’t help a soft smile; something still burning with heat, with lust, but at the same time achingly tender that he doesn’t even realize how his expression looks. ]

Orym…

[ Keeping his arm around the other to hold him steady, Dorian braces his other hand on the bed as he slowly draws out of Orym with a shudder, pulling out almost his entirely length before thrusting back in, slow and deliberate, wanting to draw this out as long as possible. ]

[Orym wonders if he's imagining it, seeing what he so desperately wants to see, when he sees that tenderness in Dorian's expression, when he sees the other man looking at him like he's something worth looking at.

His breath hitches at the sound of his name, and his head falls forward as Dorian begins to move, at the feeling of that shaft drawing out of him. He can feel every inch of him, and his back arches sharply as Dorian presses back inside, filling him again, like Orym was made for him, for this. Like they were made for each other. Another dangerous thought, but he isn't thinking the clearest right now, at all, too wrapped up in everything about Dorian, about this man that he has fallen so hard for.]

Please... yes... gods...

[ Dorian can’t help as his thoughts run along a similar track; how Orym’s passage seems to perfectly mold to his length, how they just seem to fit so well. Like they were meant to be together like this.

He can’t help a groan, as dangerous as the thoughts are he can’t help wanting them so much. Wanting Orym so much, which he tries his best to convey with each thrust into the halfling, wanting him to know the effect he has on him. ]

Ooooh…Orym…

[In this moment at least Orym has forgotten that this is, in many ways, a goodbye. He does not know when Dorian will return to him, after all. But for now, all that is gone, and it's only this moment, it's only Dorian moving inside him, over him, the arm holding him close, keeping him from falling down to the mattress.

Orym loves him, gods but he loves him. Being with Dorian feels so right. He'd almost forgotten that sex could feel this way, like two souls joining rather than solely a physical act.]

Dorian... please, harder! [He needs it, needs everything that Dorian can give him until the other man has carved himself into him, leaves him forever changed by him.]

[ A soft growl rises from Dorian’s throat, his heart somehow still skipping just hearing Orym’s desperation, for him, for how much he wants him.

And oh, how much he wants Orym too. Wants to be able to be with him, to love and take care of him. Even though he knows he can’t…but he can give Orym exactly what he asks. ]

Anything for you, Orym…

[ He tightens his hold on Orym, holding him as still as possible as he increases his past, his hips moving faster to thrust into Orym harder and hitting into him deeper. ]

[Anything. Oh the things Orym would ask him for if he thought that he had any right, if he thought it was a possibility. But even lost in the throes of passion, Orym knows better than that.

So he will take this, gods he'll take it gladly, anything that Dorian can give him, is willing to.]

Just you... that's all I need.

[But those words slip free, past his best efforts and walls. He arches back against him, neck arching, craning to look back at him, up at him. He's crying out with each deep thrust, wordless but clearly pleading for more.]

[ There really isn’t anything that Dorian wouldn’t give Orym. If only he had the courage to say so.

But his heart is in his throat at those words, at seeing the way Orym looks, hearing those cries. ]

You have me, Orym.

[ It’s the best he could ever admit the depths of his true feelings for this other man, as he continues thrusting deep into him, searching for that spot to bring him even more pleasure. ]

[Those words undo him. For the briefest moment he allows himself to believe they're true, to imagine for just a moment that Dorian is truly his, and that alone is enough to throw him headlong into his second orgasm.

He sobs out a pleasured sound, an attempt at Dorian's name, as he spills his release across his own stomach. His hole clenches around the length still inside him, as if trying to milk Dorian's climax from him as well.

And that brief, momentary fantasy -- that he is with his lover, not a customer, that he belonged to Dorian, and Dorian to him -- lingers as the pleasure rushes through him, as his body trembles in the aftermath.]

[ Dorian groans as he feels Orym tighten around his length, feels his climax rock through his smaller frame. His thrusts become shallower as he chases his pleasure, until he eventually tumbles over the edge after Orym, biting into Orym’s shoulder - hard enough to leave a mark - as he fills the other man with his seed.

And even through it all he holds Orym close, desperately clinging to the fantasy that this is more than it actually is. That they were actually making love instead of just fucking, and that they could continue to stay this way afterwards.

The thought that they could truly be together makes the orgasm even more intense, and he takes ragged breaths as he’s lost in the haze of the afterglow. ]

[He tries to hold onto it, the lingering shivers of his pleasure, not wanting the moment to end, not wanting the fantasy to end with it. The halfling is usually so much more pragmatic, but he can't help it. Everything in him has fallen so completely for this other man.

His voice rises in a sharp pleased sound at the pressure of those.e teeth. But eventually Orym goes more or less boneless against Dorian, held up by nothing more than the arm around him.]

Dorian, I... [The words he wants to say remain unsaid, but they echo again and again in his mind I love you I love you I love you] ...so good. You're so good for me.

[ As he slowly comes down from his high, he gently eases Orym down onto the bed, settling behind him and spooning him with more tenderness than he knows is likely appropriate, but he can’t help himself. He doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want this to end yet. Or ever.

He just wants things to stay like this, just the two of them. ]

Orym… [ I love you, come with me, let me take care of you for the rest of our lives ] You are…amazing.

Thank you. For…for all this.

[Oh. Oh that is quite perfect, being spooned by him. Dorian is solid and warm behind him, the strong arms around him secure and welcome. So welcome. There's that dangerous feeling of this is how it should be, always as Orym settles back against him, his arm coming to settle atop the one of Dorian still around him.]

So are you. [Take me with you, let me love you, let me be yours.]

I should be the one thanking you.

[And then, softer, almost like he's afraid to ask.] You can stay the night, cant you?

[ It really does feel like they were made for each other, with how well they seem to fit together like this. How easy they can just come together like this.

If only they could. ]

Thank me? For what?

[ He can’t help wincing at the question. There it is. There’s the moment where all this finally has to end. ]

I…wish I could. But I…have a bit of an early morning tomorrow.

[ His parents would be back first thing in the morning, and he had to be ready to greet them with his progress of work while they were away. ]

[Orym is grateful for the way that he's being held, for the fact that Dorian can't really see his face right now. His expression falls at that answer. Of course Dorian has to go. He has so much in his world waiting for him, Orym knows that.

It's been a sweet, pleasant fantasy this week, but nothing more than that. As much as Orym wishes it were different, wishes it was something, that he was something more, he's nothing more than a whore who caught the attention of a gentle, sweet nobleman for a time.]

Thank you for everything, for being here. For coming back. It's been nice.

[It's been so much more than nice. But Orym is mostly just grateful that his voice isn't shaking as he speaks.]

[ He may not be able to see Orym’s face, but he can almost feel the shift in mood, the way the air suddenly feels heavier. He sighs softly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Orym’s head. ]

Honestly…you’re more than worth coming to see.

[ There’s so much more that he wants to say, so much more that he wants Orym to know. But he can at least let Orym know how important he is…even just a little bit. ]

[His eyes shut at that sweet gesture of that kiss through his hair. Oh. There is Dorian being tender with him again, like no one else has been. Despite himself, the tension in him eases. He surrenders to it, the inevitability of this moment ending and his heart aching for something he can never have.]

And you're worth waiting for so... come back again someday, all right?

[Lie to me, tell me this doesn't end here.]

Of course…I’ll come back as often as I can. And we have the Sending Stones too…anytime you want to talk, just reach out to me on the stone. Whenever you want.

[ His arms tighten around Orym, holding him close. ]

This isn’t goodbye…I promise.

[ And maybe he’s trying to convince himself as much as Orym, but he’s desperate for it to be true. ]

I will. I'd miss your voice too much otherwise.

[He will. He wants to keep this connection with him, some piece of it. It's that selfish little impulse in him to hold on.

His arms settle atop Dorian's one hand moving to lace their fingers together. It isn't goodbye. He nods, repeats that to himself. Dorian promises. He'll cling to that.]

Not goodbye.

[ Dorian nods. ] Good. And I’ll call too, and let you know when I’ll be able to visit.

[ He takes in a soft breath as their fingers entwine together. Despite their positions, despite having just had sex moments before, somehow this seems even more intimate. What he wouldn’t give to just stop time even temporarily, to let this moment linger for a while longer.

But all he can do is tighten his hand with Orym’s. ]

We’ll see each other again.

[ He’ll make sure of it. ]

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for Dorian (makingmyway)

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