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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[Ory arches towards that touch, like some magnet behind his chest is drawn to those gentle hands. This man can play him as expertly as any instrument, and Orym's body and the halfling himself have learned to sing for Dorian.

The words draw the start of a blush rising in his face. Somehow those words do make him feel shy, more so when Dorian says them, like he means them. He busies himself with undoing Dorian's shirt.]

You really think so...

[He murmurs softly.]

And what about you? [Now that Dorian's shirt is open, he lets his fingertips drag down the center of his chest.] Ever since that first night I saw you, can't take my eyes off you.

[ Gently running his fingers over Orym’s chest, Dorian then leans up a bit to brush a kiss over Orym’s heart. ]

Mm…I do.

[ More than just his appearance though, even if Orym is incredibly handsome. But the halfling’s gentle and caring nature is what really drew Dorian’s attention, why he kept coming back to see him.

He draws in a breath as Orym’s hands move over his chest, the sensation of the calloused fingers across his skin sending shivers down his spine. And he can’t quite stop the blush that spreads across his cheeks as Orym returns the praise. ]

A-Ah…thank you…I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of pretty faces, though.

[Orym's breath catches at the feeling of those lips at his chest, half from the sensation of it and half from the way his heart leaps in his chest at it. Again he wrestles with feelings, with the words he knows he can't say that want to spill from his lips. I love you, you know. I'm yours, if you want me, if you say the word, however you want me. A partner, a lover, a dirty little secret.

He swallows them back, hands rising up to cup at Dorian's face, so he can look at him.]

Not like yours, not anywhere near as handsome.

[And part of that is the kindness, the shy uncertainty and earnest, gentle soul he's discovered in the other man.]

[ As his gaze is lifted to meet Orym's eyes, he feels more heat rising to his face, his heart stuttering in his chest at those words. They seem so simple, yet coming from Orym they seem to mean the entire world.

And the words are on the tip of his tongue, and they would be so easy to say: I love you, I want you so much. I don't want this to just be sex, I want to be yours, I want you to be mine.

Instead he rests his hand over Orym's, turning into his palm and brushing a kiss over his pulse. ]

[Entirely unaware of the fact that his own unspoken pleas and promises are echoed in similar silence in the other man, Orym just watches him, gaze roaming over Dorian's face as if taking all of him in in this moment.

His breath catches at the touch of those lips at his wrist, pulse immediately quickening, heart thundering away in his chest.

It's too much. If he's not careful confessions are going to start spilling from his lips like a fount overflowing.]

Dorian...

[And afraid that it may be starting, Orym shifts to distract himself, to distract Dorian, moving so that rather than draped over Dorian, he's straddling him, deliberately settling himself so that his ass is pressed to the other man's arousal, rocking down against him, a still-clothed pantomime of what he very much wants to do.]

[ Dorian meets Orym’s gaze, still pressing that hand to his cheek. The stillness in the air feels heavy, like they were waiting for something. ]

Orym -

[ But whatever else he’s going to say is cut off as Orym presses himself against his hardened length, straining agains the prison of his trousers, and with a sharp gasp his head falls back against the bed, his hips jumping up to grind against him. ]

[A shiver at the sound of his name alone, and Orym summons a smile as he hears Dorian gasp for him, feels the way the other man rocks up to meet him, the press of his hard cock grinding against him, even through the fabric of both their pants, sending another heated rush of desire through him.]

I need you inside me... think I might go mad otherwise.

[He slips his hand into a pocket, drawing out a small bottle of oil. He's clearly come prepared, and optimistic. And it was something he'd been made aware of being in his room, since the other staff in the household did not seem to have any pretenses at all about just what sort of servant Orym had been brought in to be.]

[ Dorian groans softly, his hands gently gripping Orym’s waist as he rocks his hips, searching for what he needs for relief. But he knows he can’t get it this way, so he whimpers at Orym’s words, even as he flushes a little seeing that he is indeed very prepared. ]

Y-Yes…please, Orym…wanna be inside you, wanna feel you.

[No this won't be enough, not for the need that is roiling in Orym, but that doesn't mean it isn't absolutely exquisite to feel Dorian rutting up against him, to rock back down towards him even as he sets that bottle aside, moving to start reluctantly shifting back so he can work Dorian's trousers open and then down his legs.

His fingers tremble with need and impatience, and he's never known that to happen with anyone else, unique entirely to the mess that the other man makes out of his body and soul.]

[ Dorian can’t help the whine that rises from his throat as Orym starts to move back, even as he shivers in anticipation for what’s to come. When Orym starts to remove his trousers, he lifts his hips to help make it easier, too eager and desperate for the warmth and feeling of the other man’s presence.

He had never expected to feel this way, before Orym. To be so overcome with need for someone, so full of desire like this. But being with Orym has changed all his expectations for what he imagined for himself. And he wants all of it, wants everything he can have with this man who had opened his eyes - and heart - to so much more. ]

[Orym takes full advantage of that help to ease his trousers away, tossing them vaguely in the direction of off the bed. He'll pick everything up later. Right now all that matters is Dorian, and not going too far from the other man's reach.

He stands on the bed to shimmy out of his pajama bottoms before moving to straddle the other man's hips once more. They're bared to each other again, a familiar state of things, and Orym takes comfort in that. Like this, at least, he knows Dorian wants him at least this much. And oh he wants to be wanted.]

[ His mouth goes dry as he watches Orym bare himself; an almost comforting feeling if not for the looming state of wrongness that still hangs over the whole situation.

But he ignores that for now as his breath hitches when Orym straddles him, feeling the heat of Orym’s length against his skin. He reaches up to slowly run his hands along the inside of Orym’s thighs, almost reverently. ]

…I missed you.

[ Whether he means since his last visit at the brothel, or just since he’d seen Orym earlier that afternoon, it’s the truth. The halfling always occupies his thoughts, and he never feels more himself than when he’s with him. ]

[There is so much that Orym is trying not to think about right now, and it is easier at the moment with as distracting as Dorian is. How can he think about anything but the other man when those hands run up his thighs. He shifts his thighs wider apart to bare himself further to the attention.

His hands move to settle against Dorian's chest, one sliding up to settle against his neck.]

I missed you too.

[Since the last time they were together like this. Since earlier today, whateer it meant. Orym thinks about Dorian, about being in his arms, far more often than he knows he should.]

We don't have to miss each other tonight.

[ Dorian releases a shaky breath as Orym leans into him, and despite everything he manages a small smile. Then he moves one hand from his thigh to cup Orym’s cheek, tilting his head up to capture Orym’s lips. ]

[Orym lets his eyes fall shut as he's drawn closer, surrendering entirely to that touch, to the kiss. He knows that the longer he's with Dorian, the more likely he is to slip up and say things he knows he shouldn't.

It's a risk he's willing to take.

He winds one arm around Dorian's neck to hold close, his other hand slipping between them to seek out Dorian's cock.]

[ Dorian gasps softly against Orym’s lips when that hand brushes against his length, distracted from his own thoughts as the world focuses in on the heat of their bodies. His hips rock up for more of the touch, the hand still on Orym’s thigh gripping gently. ]

O-Orym…

[Orym grants Dorian what he's asked for without words, fingers dragging down along his length, tracing the shape of his arousal. He breaks from the other man's lips with a wet, breathless sound, leaning his forehead against Dorian's, panting softly, close enough that their breaths mingle.]

Dorian... [He strokes over him slowly, his other hand resting at the side of the other man's neck.]

Help me, beautiful? Get me ready for you?

[ He groans softly, nails lightly digging into Orym's thighs as his cock jumps at the touch of those callous-rough hands. Swallowing thickly, he shivers a little as Orym's warm breath ghosts across his face. ]

Y-Yeah...Yeah, of course.

[ Stealing another quick kiss, he then feels around the bed, searching for the vial of oil. ]

[He smiles at the way Dorian reacts for him, at the stutter in those words. It's gratifying to know that the other man is as swept up in this as he is, as affected and wanting. If in the end he can't be anything else for Dorian, he can at least know that the Genasi wants him, like this.

He lets his hand roam over Dorian's length, not stroking or wrapping around him so much as running his fingers over him, letting the head of his cock rub along his palm, spreading the precome he finds there, slick and heated.]

Good... I need you. Soon.

[ He swallows back another groan, his body shuddering under Orym’s almost lazy touch along his length that still sends currents of electricity pulsing through his veins. ]

Me too…need you. So bad.

[ Eventually his fingers brush against the vial and he grabs it, almost desperately, before opening it up to pour some oil into his other hand. Making sure his fingers are completely coated, he then reaches around to lightly circle one around the rim of Orym’s entrance. ]

[Orym doesn't hold back the soft whimper of sound as he feels that touch at his entrance, so close but not there yet, not enough. It won't be enough until he's sinking down on Dorian's cock, until they're moving together and every other thought or worry is swept away.

He wraps his fingers more securely around that arousal, leaning close enough to ghost his lips along the other man's, like he's chasing the taste of the groans that he hears.]

Please...

[ Dorian’s breath hitches as Orym’s fingers wrap around him, and the sweet sound of that please has him leaning up to swallow it in a kiss as his finger finally slips inside that hot passage, slowly working him open. ]

[Orym voices a groan to Dorian's lips as that finger presses inside, and gods it's good, a promise of things to come, of what he wants. But it also adds to that need, that impatience.

His fingers continue to move over Dorian's length, and his free arm wraps around the other man's neck, holding close.]

[ Dorian drinks in that groan, answering with one of his own as his hips stutter, shifting up into Orym’s touch.

Then he slides his finger in and out of Orym’s entrance, adding a second finger and scissoring them to stretch him open, searching around for that bundle of nerves to bring the other man more pleasure. ]

[When those questing fingers find their target, Orym breaks from the kiss with a soft cry. His hips rock back, riding the fingers probing inside him. It does nothing to help his impatience to have Dorian completely.]

Please, I'm ready. I can't wait any longer. Need you now.

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