[He's not sure how to interpret his hand being taken away, but Dorian watches the other man's face as Larus presses lips against his hand. One step back, two steps forward. It's confusingly and unintentionally provocative to him, in the way that he's realizing many of the things that Larus does are.

And, miraculously, he's thought about the answer to the question posed to him. It's probably why, when the moment comes, his reply comes out as smoothly as it does.]

The simplest answer to that question is that I want to make my time in the city to my taste as possible. You mentioned before that you don't consider yourself high maintenance, and I believe you. That's what I want for myself: if I have to follow the rules, it will be on my terms, and with little interruption to my lifestyle.

[Dorian pauses, punctuating his words by reaching to take a short sip of his coffee.]

But I also want to keep you here with me, and for you to be mine. To talk with you and become used to your company. To see your face most days and hear you talk without any flourishes. To have sex with you.

I'm not planning on tying you up and bending you over a couch arm, if that's of any concern, but I won't take it off the table if you'd give me your consent. [Because it would be stirring, not to mention fun.]

That being said, I'm glad to talk about this at whatever length, and to hear out any terms you have.