for Dorian (makingmyway) - Fuck or die ritual sex

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym doesn't know how they've gotten themselves into this.

They'd found themselves taking refuge in a temple to some minor deity that Orym had never heard of before. Bell's Hells had made their way inside, and for a while that was all the halfling knew. Not more than three steps into the temple and he'd collapsed, struck unconscious without even a moment to react. He'd later learn that the same had happened to Dorian -- though the rest of the members of the Hells had been entirely unaffected.

The appearance of the worshippers in the temple had been met with suspicion by most of their still-awake friends, but by the time Dorian and Orym woke up, it was clear that they had no chance but to take the offered help. The temple, it seems, has been in a sort of stasis, a waiting, for the right people to step inside. Some prophecy that is now being fulfilled with a halfling and an air genasi who did not sign up for this. But they are in it now, and there is only one way to survive this curse.

Orym awakes with a start. He finds himself laid out on a stone altar, though soft, silken fabric has been draped over it -- similar to the frankly flimsy material of the shift that he's been dressed in. There are flowers in his hair, and strewn around him and for once he's not the source of them. He glances to his left and sees Dorian there, still sleeping, dressed and adorned similarly. For just a fraction of a second, Orym feels his breath catch. Dorian looks too beautiful to be real, dressed in the same diaphanous white robes, adorned similarly with flowers. Concern takes over in the next moment and he reaches over to set a hand on his chest, shaking gently.]

Dorian? Dorian, wake up.

[He sounds a bit frantic, looking around and immediately noting that his weapons are nowhere nearby. He doesn't recognize this place, the chamber large and lit by firelight and moonlight. And they're alone. Where are the others?

What Orym, for all his perceptiveness, has not noticed, is the thin band of gold that circles his neck, nor the identical one around Dorian's. Those will be a problem he'll learn about shortly.]

Comments

[makingmyway]

Right…you too.

[ Dorian slowly slides off the altar, though it takes him a moment to keep his balance. As he steadies himself, he can’t help glancing towards Orym, seeing the way the robes billow around his lithe form. His throat goes dry, and he quickly looks away to step down from the raised platform that the altar is on.

He doesn’t get much of a chance to look around though when he hears the dull thud of Orym hitting the ground. ]

Orym…!

[ He rushes over to the fighter, kneeling down beside him. ]

Are you all right?

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym finds himself looking up at Dorian. And like this, with the soft light reflecting behind him, dressed in white and adorned in flowers and gold, Dorian looks like something out of a divine vision.

Orym's breath catches, and he tries to pass it off as just having had the breath knocked out of him.]

Yup. I'm good. We can't go that way.

[He's just. Going to lie here for a second.]

[makingmyway]

[ Despite the situation, Dorian can’t help a vaguely amused smile at Orym’s assessment. ]

So I see.

[ The smile quickly fades though as he glances towards the hallway, then back to the altar and the space they’d come from. ] There’s nothing back that way either.

[ The chamber is well-lit enough that he’s able to get a good look even from his current position, but it only makes his stomach twist even more. ]

Orym, I…I think we really are stuck here.

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym props himself up sitting, looking around as well. He's pretty sure that Dorian is right. They really are stuck.

It's fine.]

Yeah, I think you're right.

[He hops up onto his feet and turns to look at Dorian.]

It's fine. We'll figure this out. Let's get a drink.

[There's food and drink set out for them. They can start there. Orym lifts a hand to his neck without realizing it, the first less-than-subtle constriction of the collar beginning.]

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian remains where he is for a moment, watching as Orym walks away. The shimmering robes flowing around the fighter’s slender frame is quite a sight, and it almost feels like his heart is leaping into his throat.

It doesn’t occur to him that that might be something else entirely.

Regardless, he tries to clear his thoughts with a shake of his head before finally getting up himself, walking to join Orym where the food and drink is spread out. ]

It was courteous of them to provide such a variety of sustenance, at least.

[ Said with as much sarcasm as he can muster. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym can't help but laugh at that, shaking his head.]

Yeah, they're really great hosts.

[Just as much sarcasm, but he settles to a seat and reaches for something that looks like wine. He pours too glasses. He needs this right now, he thinks, because his mind is racing too fast to keep up with.

He slides one over towards Dorian.

Fuck. They need to talk about this.]

What the priest said...

[makingmyway]

[ Lowering himself into a nearby seat, he accepts the glass with a murmured thanks. And he’s taking a sip when Orym begins speaking, which has him nearly choking on the bit of wine he had.

Fuck. ]

About this…supposed prophecy?

[ No no no, he isn’t ready for this. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym nods. That, yeah. He takes a long sip of his wine. Then another.]

I don't really put a lot of stock in prophecies or anything.

[Another tightening around his neck, more noticeable this time as if he's being chastised for the words.]

I don't know why it decided to pick us...

[And another constriction. 'Liar.' The halfling can hear the soft, amused accusation echoing in his head. And he can't fault it. Because Orym knows why it picked him. He can't speak for Dorian, but he knows his own heart.]

We'll figure this out. [His voice is starting to sound strained now, breath starting to be a struggle.]

It's fine. [It's not. And the voice of a goddess he never asked to catch the attention of echoes in his head in that same soft amusement. 'It could be, stubborn boy'.] Maybe we can talk some... some sense... into.

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian nods as he tries to clear his throat, feeling it tighten just a bit. ]

Y-Yeah. It…It seems crazy, right?

[ And it does to him, if only because it makes no sense that Orym could ever feel the same way that he does for the halfling. He had been holding these feelings for so long, because there was no way he could tell Orym how in love with him he’s been.

‘Why can’t you?’ a voice in his head asks, and he tries to clear his throat again.

Trying to ignore the storm of emotions coursing through him, he instead focuses on the way Orym is suddenly sounding, worry creasing his brow. ]

…Orym? Are you…?

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

Maybe... maybe not... that crazy.

[He is starting to sound like he's been running, though he is trying very hard to ignore it, to pretend it isn't happening. But that's distracting him from little things like paying attention to what he's saying.]

It's... f...fine. I'm fine.

['Wrong again.' And as if to prove herself right, the collar constricts again, enough that the halfling is starting to feel light headed, and he wavers where he's sitting, looking like he might tip over all too soon.]

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian can’t help tensing a little, drawing in an admittedly labored breath.

Not that crazy…? Surely he couldn’t mean…

The thought doesn’t get too far though as he feels the collar constricting around his neck as well, starting to obstruct his own breathing. In a moment of panic he stills his breath in his chest, and it certainly helps with the pain, but it doesn’t ease the feeling as he realizes what’s happening with Orym.

Sliding out of his seat, he kneels in front of Orym, one hand cradling the halfling’s cheek as he checks on him. He can’t say anything and risk trying to breathe, but the concern and fear clear on his face. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

This... this wasn't how I wanted... wanted to tell you..

['Oh just kiss him already. This is getting painful to watch.' Orym is beyond worrying about that voice in his head right now. His vision is starting to blur, eyes not quite focused as he looks at Dorian's handsome face.

Then there's that hand and he doesn't have it in him not to turn into the touch. He can see the concern there, wonders at the silence before realizing what Dorian has done with his breath. Oh, oh good, that's right. That's smart. A smile flickers over his lips as he realizes that the bard will be okay. That's a relief.

This is about when consciousness decides it's done with him, and the halfling tips forward into Dorian.]

[makingmyway]

[ This is too much for Dorian to process, as he catches Orym in his arms, a cold wash of fear coursing through his body as he tries to rouse him.

Dammit, shit, fuck!

‘You know what you have to do to help him’ the voice echoes in his head again, and Dorian remembers how much he hates hearing strange goddesses speaking to him in his mind like this.

The worst part is that he does know what could help Orym, or at least he has an idea. Compared to what they’re being asked to do, it’s relatively small, enough to buy them some time to figure the rest out. But he hates this, because it isn’t fair.

This isn’t how he wanted to let Orym know either.

Still, he knows he has no choice now, not if they’re going to survive this. So, steeling up his courage, he carefully arranges the halfling in his arms in order to tilt his head up.

And, after a moment of hesitation, he leans in to press a gentle kiss to Orym’s lips. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

['So, so stubborn.' A mental tsking that Orym is only barely aware of given that he's on the very fringe of consciousness, breath less strained now but only because he's barely breathing at all.

The next thing he's aware of is the touch of Dorian's lips to his, soft as a breeze. The collar eases its stranglehold, still tight, but enough that Orym can draw a shaky breath as his eyes slowly open and Dorian's face comes into focus -- close, so close.

Kissing him. Oh, that's a really lovely thing to wake to, and without thinking too much about it, Orym leans up to return the kiss.]

[makingmyway]

[ He feels the collar around his neck loosen a fraction, and then a bit more when Orym returns the kiss. But it’s that realization - that not only is Orym conscious again, but kissing him back - that startles Dorian a bit, that he ends up breaking the kiss himself, his cheeks flushed as he looks down at the halfing. ]

Orym…?

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym draws another shaky breath, slowly getting his breath back as the collar eases its hold for the time being. He looks up at Dorian and offers a small, faintly apologetic smile.]

Like I said, maybe not that crazy.

[Cat's halfway out of the bag, and is not going to go back into the bag easily. So he may as well just let it out.]

I've been trying to find the right time to tell you. That I've been in love with you for a while now, and sometimes... sometimes I'm brave enough to think you might feel the same.

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian’s breath hitches softly, his heart skipping in his chest. Carefully he helps Orym into a better sitting position, trying to find the right words. ]

…I never…thought it was possible, to be honest. That you could ever feel the same way about me. That’s why I could never…bring myself to tell you.

How in love with you I’ve been all this time.

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym takes the help to maneuver himself into sitting up, watching the bard's face closely, to see his reaction to the words, to what he's confessed to him after holding it in for what feels like ages.

And despite the fact that he told Dorian he had some hope that Dorian could feel the same, he can still feel his heart skip several beats as the other man speaks those words. Wide-eyed, he smells, feeling the heat rising across his cheeks.]

How could I not be in love with you? You're amazing. So much about you.

[makingmyway]

[ The flush on his cheeks darkens, even as his gaze falls, unable to meet Orym’s for the moment as all his self-doubt and anxiety somehow manages to start creeping back. ]

I can think of several things.

[ Not least of which included Orym’s late husband. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym reaches out to take one of Dorian's hands.]

Yeah well, I can't.

[He informs him stubbornly, but there's a gentleness in his tone. He knows Dorian has a lot of self-doubt and insecurities.]

You're not perfect, Dorian. But perfect is... gods it'd be awful. But you're sweet and you're funny and you're kind. And you helped me remember how to be alive again... how to want to be alive again.

[makingmyway]

[ He stills as Orym takes his hand, his heart racing under the halfling’s praise. Then he swallows the lump in his throat - the feeling this time having nothing to do with the collar - as he gently squeezes Orym’s hand. ]

It’s just…hard to believe…to think you could want to be with me, when you’ve seen the very worst of me.

But if I could do that for you…then I’m glad. After everything you’ve done for me, I’m glad that I could do something for you too.

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[The halfling just smiles at the squeeze to his hand. It's nice.]

I've seen you go through dark, difficult things. I've seen you come out the other side too. Still there for all of us, still you.

[Still gentle and willing to help people, still able to smile. Orym ducks his head with a laugh.]

Honestly, I'm the one who's lucky you feel the same. I've... I spent a lot of time feeling broken, just wandering, trying to keep moving forward because that's the only thing I know how to do.

[Another flicker of a smile on his face.] I don't feel so broken, when I'm with you.

[makingmyway]

[ Watching Orym for a moment, Dorian then lifts their hands to press a kiss to the back of Orym’s. ]

You’re not broken, Orym. The fact that you can keep going forward after all you’ve been through is amazing. I’ve always admired that about you.

It’s why I’ve always been willing to follow your lead, why I trust your judgment. You’re one of the strongest people that I’ve ever known.

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[The way his throat tightens at the kiss to the back of his hand has nothing to do with the band around his neck. Instead it has everything to do with the way it feels like his heart is overflowing at the sweet gesture and the words that come with it.]

I really want to kiss you again.

[And then maybe again, and at least once more for good measure.]

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian takes in a sharp breath, his cheeks once again flushing as his heart skips. Swallowing thickly, he nods. ]

I…Y-Yeah…I wouldn’t mind that.

[ Very much the opposite, really. ]