[He turns his head to kiss the pads of the other man's fingers, his hand wrapping around the small of Larus' thigh.]
During the day you can help me plan for the sorcerer that's going to be putting a spell on that [his gaze flicks to the closed door at the far end of the kitchen] room. Exit strategies. Backup plans. [Things it seems like Larus would be good at or at least motivated to see as important, given his strong emotional response to the whole idea and how much Dorian's noticed that the other man's thoughts seem to be centered around survival.]
I don't think you're going to be able to be here for it, so the second opinion would be useful. [Probably.]
That won't take long, [ he points out, eyes lowering just slightly as he watches dorian's mouth press against his skin. ] Even if this idea of yours isn't a very smart one, I'll do what I can. I've already decided it would be very easy to climb through any of these windows. Getting out would be even easier.
[ so that's nearly all of his planning for that. larus still doesn't approve of this stranger helping with something obviously important, but he won't bring it up again. not now. he's far more focused on the fact they're so close and it'll be hours before the sun goes down again. ]
What about the rest of the time? [ a curl of his mouth, somewhat sardonic. ] Should I just wait for you to come home?
[Longer sentences are a positive development.] That's an option. And seeing as magic obviously exists in this place, I was thinking it stands to reason that dispelling does, too.
[He grazes teeth over the pad of Larus' thumb and then smiles up at him, taking the vampire's hand out of the way smoothly with his free one.
Larus can think his plan's stupid all he wants, if it means the other man's starting to think of ways to accept being trapped in the high rise during the day rather than getting morose over it.
Dorian drops a kiss on the curve of the other man's neck, pressing at him.]
You strike me as a capable man who knows how to entertain himself if need be. [Not a sex joke, despite how he's coming onto Larus. But there are articles of interest -books, mostly- building up in the suite, as well as the network.]
[ or maybe it is, restless as always when he's stuck too long in one place. it's also why he'd slowly built up an extensive list of safe houses in the dusk, different areas to come and go from depending on where he was and what he'd been doing. he could have that here, though that means he'll certainly have to work for it. even harder since he'll rely on dorian for some things.
he isn't going to be seduced by sweet words, but he does close his eyes, his hand now smoothing down dorian's back. ]
You can believe I'm waiting for you if that's what you want. It's not like I have anywhere else to be. [ he pauses then, considering. ] I doubt I would want to be anywhere else either.
[He takes it as the statement of fact that he's getting used to receiving from the vampire (he has nowhere else to be, so there's nothing to want or compare between), rather than a comment on himself. It has the opposite effect of being charming and interesting anyway, because it's how most people don't react to him.]
It'll go by faster than you think. [The kiss he has for the other man is sweet.] I promise.
If it helps, and it would, I'm happy to lend myself to exhausting you with each rising of the sun. [Unlikely, but the attempt would be diverting.]
[ he's familiar with time passing as it always does: slowly, meticulously. there's more to keep him occupied there, that's true, and dorian already helps with that. it's not as if he couldn't spend time speaking to other people or meeting with them in this suite during the day as well, though that would come at a later date when he actually felt the need to invite anyone inside where he's living.
the tenderness that's reflected in the way larus returns the kiss is deep. ]
Every day as long as we're together? [ there's a note of amusement in his voice. ] I don't want to kill you.
No. I just wonder if you're overestimating yourself trying to impress me again.
[ it's the small things that stick with him, after all, and that's all he's really going to have after they're gone. larus runs his knuckles against the line of dorian's jaw before pushing his fingers into his hair to gently grip the strands. he wants to press his mouth right against the pulse in his neck, but he refrains. barely. ]
I'd lost about three and a half pints of blood, maybe more. [It's happened often enough that he knows how the losses in different amounts feel, and he's relatively sure he's correct about that.] It's not an invigorating feeling.
But, no. Exhaustion doesn't rate, and I don't recover my stamina unless I've slept or had something like a cup of coffee.
[ maybe it's not a good topic to discuss considering the way he's beginning to feel—guilt only part of it. larus is quiet as he takes all of it in and realizes now how dangerous a thing that particular knowledge is, especially if other vampires or creatures requiring blood learn of it. he frowns, trailing his fingers down to the back of dorian's neck. ]
I'll be more careful next time. [ a silent promise, and he presses into his skin, changing the subject again. ] Although, I can't say I'm not interested in learning some of your other limits.
[Dorian's fine with them skating over the blood and gore part of the conversation. Yesterday evening had been intense enough that he's had his fill of the sight, smell, and feeling of blood all over his skin for some time.
He smiles.
And amazingly, any potential lewdness in that second comment sails right over Dorian's head thanks to the tone.]
Well, for one, I can't keep a bruise. They fade away like disappearing ink. [He offers Larus his hand.] Everything starts purple, and then cycles quickly through red, green, and yellow, like a kaleidoscope. [On the canvas of his white skin, he thinks it's fetching.]
[ as fascinating as it is, it's not something he can bring himself to do just to see it happen. he's witnessed it on other vampires, on himself, and while it's interesting because dorian is not undead as far as he's aware, larus is more intrigued by other things. he takes his hand, but rather than apply pressure or bruise him in a way he knows he easily could, he brings it to his mouth for a kiss. he presses his lips to the palm, the wrist.
his heartbeat is strong, and larus listens to it as he looks at him. ]
I said I wouldn't hurt you, and I especially won't do it intentionally. I'll take your word for it and leave it at that. [ there's something beautiful in the fragility of people, a reminder he doesn't always have to feel so monstrous. ] You should take more care than you do.
[ never mind he's done and will do equally foolish things, like return to the down at some point. ]
[His eyes follow the progress of the kisses Larus presses down his palm, and then his wrist. The sweetness of the gesture contrasts against the cold of Larus' fingers, the reality of his being. It's a reoccurring realization that he finds moving each time it crosses his mind.]
I was, [he says, not missing a beat.] Didn't I put myself in your hands?
[ there could be something more in those words, but larus isn't certain how to process it or how to begin understanding it. he hasn't had much time to think about dorian alone specifically when it's always been a situation or their current circumstances. such a thing implies a sort of trust he wants to hold onto though, leaning to rest his forehead against the hand he holds. everything else is muted to him but this and the hypnotic thrum of dorian's pulse. ]
Are you trying to tempt me? [ since that's what it feels like too. ]
More often than not, Larus treats him with gentle care. The kind that someone with super strength must, he imagines, have to consciously moderate their own movements and grip to manage. Someone who can't hurt him even minimally, even if encouraged to and when the hurt won't stick, is at the very least a friend, if not something more tender.]
Why do you do that? [he asks, changing the subject. It's obvious why, but he wants to hear it in Larus' own words.] You like touching my wrists, and that first time on the couch between us the same feeling was in the way you kissed my neck, [he explains. Is it the warmth? The desire to feel halfway close to being alive by being close?]
[ he'd already known the answer to his own question, but he's not exactly prepared for the one dorian asks in return, abruptly aware of the placement of his hands even as he tilts his head back to look at him. why is it so easy to nearly lose himself when he's with someone else? or, more specifically, when he's with him? other people don't interest him nearly as much. ]
It reminds me that you're alive, [ he settles on after a few moments, smoothing his thumb over dorian's wrist before freeing his hand. rather than skirt away from the topic, he feels the need to elaborate. ] Not that you aren't. I can hear your heart beating without even thinking about it. It's more – I don't know. A conscious effort to keep my teeth where they should be and not take what isn't mine.
[ which is a different sort of reminder, always aware of that primal instinct to bite and claim but desperate to prove that he has control over something he never wanted in the first place. ]
[This kind of restraining of oneself is something Dorian understands, but mostly in an abstract and secondhand sense.
Most of his familiarity with this kind of abstinence comes from Toby. But Toby didn't want to resist for the sake of other people, where Larus makes it sound as though some of his reasoning is motivated by a kindness and awareness of others.]
By giving into some of the temptation but not all of it?
[What is a heartbeat to a vampire but a calling that burrows from one body deep into the core and most primal instincts of another?]
[ how else is he supposed to explain it? there's also something nice about the rhythm of it, the warmth that comes from the skin, and maybe a lot of it does come from the fact he misses having a pulse. he takes a moment to think about it, watching dorian before slowing shifting his shoulders in some vague shrug. if he'd thought about it extensively, maybe he would have been able to give a proper answer. ]
Like I said, it's a reminder. And I guess I just like doing it.
[ there. one thing he admits to liking, which probably doesn't say much at all. ]
[The preference expressed in those words makes Dorian flash back, momentarily, to mornings waking up with a cold cheek pressed against his chest, another body taking solace in the beating and regularity of his heart.]
I had another vampire friend once-- not that long ago, actually, who said heartbeats filled in the silence where there was nothing else to do so. You're not from our world, of course, but there are a great many pieces of literature where I'm from where the beating of a heart means everything from the echoing of someone's guilt back at them, to the awakening of new passions. It's life.
But with my friend, I think the lack bothered him because what was left to fill the quiet were his own thoughts, mostly about himself, and they weren't... kind.
[Although Larus seems to have an acute awareness of his own vampirism, he doesn't seem anywhere near to hating himself in that same way.
But will he one day? After enough years have ticked by?]
[ he's not surprised that dorian had known other vampires, but there's something almost bittersweet about the way he speaks of his friend, wanting to ask but deciding not to pry. he likes when information is given freely, and he's certain, with time, dorian will tell him more if he wants to. ]
It doesn't bother me. Other things do, but not that. [ maybe that makes him strange. he doesn't know; it's not like he converses much with other vampires. ] Each heartbeat is different, [ he continues, touching his fingertips to dorian's chin. ] and you can tell so much just from listening to it. Someone's fears, their desires. If they're young, old, sick – so, yes, maybe it does fill the silence sometimes.
[ his hand trails down the line of dorian's throat. ]
I could pick yours out of a crowd. [ and softly: ] It sounds like your friend had more to figure out.
[Dorian turns his head. Not a full shake, but a rebuttable nonetheless.]
In his mind there was too little left to figure out, and too much time to spend doing it.
[He takes in the feeling of Larus' hand on his neck, letting it happen, and then reaches out in turn, running a pensive touch over the side of one of the other man's arms, more thoughtful and less purposeful than the usual falling of his hands upon the other man.
The physical sturdiness, unavoidable inclination to bloodthirstiness, and remarkably human fragility of vampirism is a kind of immortality he'll never fully understand. It's strange sometimes, to be positioned as someone also immortal and witness to it, but shielded from many of the same worst aspects of it. He'll only ever be an onlooker to what it means to be immortal, but also coping with death while still animated, feeling, and sometimes connected to the world and other people.
There is one thing he's recognized, though: no vampire he's ever met has taken the little ways of feeling alive for granted in the same ways he often and unthinkingly does. He craves that ready appreciation for signs of life that seem so little and forgettable to him.]
[ something so small feels incredibly complicated to him. mostly because he doesn't actually know dorian's friend or the circumstances around his creation, what drove him to such dislike. perhaps it could be that larus is still young for a vampire, but he's met a plethora of others in varying shades of hatred—towards themselves, towards humanity. it's a lonely, envious sort of long life, more a curse than anything else, and sometimes, he wishes to let go of it all. but those moments are exceedingly rare and brought upon by great duress.
his fingers trace along the shape of dorian's collarbone, pushing fabric aside to expose more skin. ]
Everything is always what you make it. [ which sounds incredibly pragmatic of him. ] Finding purpose isn't easy, but it's the same with humans too. Sometimes, you fail to escape the thought there's nothing else.
[ but there's always something. always. of course, a lot of larus' motives back home where fueled by survival and spite, a different sort of hatred directed at someone else rather than himself. he could hate what he is for eternity, but he couldn't hate himself. not without something else behind it. ]
[That kind of pragmatic stoicism isn't familiar to him when his thoughts will always be tied to the sins marked on the portrait hidden away in the room beside the kitchen. But maybe it's what it takes to weather the storm of eternal death with grace. When Larus describes it this way, he finds himself believing that for him, it might work.]
You aren't a melancholic, I'll give you that. [He lets the tension keeping the robe about him loosen at the touch, fabric sliding away from his chest and over a shoulder. Fingers on his skin are welcome, and he smiles slightly, drawing Larus in with the touch resting on his arm.]
Making peace with death isn't easy, but you make it sound like you're on your way.
[It's not a platitude. It's impressive. Artless too, but an artistic or dramatic approach to death has consequences he isn't eager to see repeated in someone he's coming to care for.]
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During the day you can help me plan for the sorcerer that's going to be putting a spell on that [his gaze flicks to the closed door at the far end of the kitchen] room. Exit strategies. Backup plans. [Things it seems like Larus would be good at or at least motivated to see as important, given his strong emotional response to the whole idea and how much Dorian's noticed that the other man's thoughts seem to be centered around survival.]
I don't think you're going to be able to be here for it, so the second opinion would be useful. [Probably.]
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[ so that's nearly all of his planning for that. larus still doesn't approve of this stranger helping with something obviously important, but he won't bring it up again. not now. he's far more focused on the fact they're so close and it'll be hours before the sun goes down again. ]
What about the rest of the time? [ a curl of his mouth, somewhat sardonic. ] Should I just wait for you to come home?
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[He grazes teeth over the pad of Larus' thumb and then smiles up at him, taking the vampire's hand out of the way smoothly with his free one.
Larus can think his plan's stupid all he wants, if it means the other man's starting to think of ways to accept being trapped in the high rise during the day rather than getting morose over it.
Dorian drops a kiss on the curve of the other man's neck, pressing at him.]
You strike me as a capable man who knows how to entertain himself if need be. [Not a sex joke, despite how he's coming onto Larus. But there are articles of interest -books, mostly- building up in the suite, as well as the network.]
But it would flatter me if you waited for me.
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[ or maybe it is, restless as always when he's stuck too long in one place. it's also why he'd slowly built up an extensive list of safe houses in the dusk, different areas to come and go from depending on where he was and what he'd been doing. he could have that here, though that means he'll certainly have to work for it. even harder since he'll rely on dorian for some things.
he isn't going to be seduced by sweet words, but he does close his eyes, his hand now smoothing down dorian's back. ]
You can believe I'm waiting for you if that's what you want. It's not like I have anywhere else to be. [ he pauses then, considering. ] I doubt I would want to be anywhere else either.
[ dorian can take that however he'd like. ]
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It'll go by faster than you think. [The kiss he has for the other man is sweet.] I promise.
If it helps, and it would, I'm happy to lend myself to exhausting you with each rising of the sun. [Unlikely, but the attempt would be diverting.]
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the tenderness that's reflected in the way larus returns the kiss is deep. ]
Every day as long as we're together? [ there's a note of amusement in his voice. ] I don't want to kill you.
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Is putting it that way supposed to make it less appealing?
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[ it's the small things that stick with him, after all, and that's all he's really going to have after they're gone. larus runs his knuckles against the line of dorian's jaw before pushing his fingers into his hair to gently grip the strands. he wants to press his mouth right against the pulse in his neck, but he refrains. barely. ]
But you're welcome to try if you think you can.
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I'm trying to impress you? You just said you that could kill me with sex.
But I know, I know. [He waves off his own words, gesturing airily.] You're being truthful. But you also saw how I heal.
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[ but dorian mentions that, and larus is abruptly aware that his fangs seem heavy in his mouth. ]
Does that include stamina? I could almost feel how tired you were when we made it back here.
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But, no. Exhaustion doesn't rate, and I don't recover my stamina unless I've slept or had something like a cup of coffee.
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I'll be more careful next time. [ a silent promise, and he presses into his skin, changing the subject again. ] Although, I can't say I'm not interested in learning some of your other limits.
[ he very much means it how it sounds. ]
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He smiles.
And amazingly, any potential lewdness in that second comment sails right over Dorian's head thanks to the tone.]
Well, for one, I can't keep a bruise. They fade away like disappearing ink. [He offers Larus his hand.] Everything starts purple, and then cycles quickly through red, green, and yellow, like a kaleidoscope. [On the canvas of his white skin, he thinks it's fetching.]
Help yourself, if you're curious.
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his heartbeat is strong, and larus listens to it as he looks at him. ]
I said I wouldn't hurt you, and I especially won't do it intentionally. I'll take your word for it and leave it at that. [ there's something beautiful in the fragility of people, a reminder he doesn't always have to feel so monstrous. ] You should take more care than you do.
[ never mind he's done and will do equally foolish things, like return to the down at some point. ]
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I was, [he says, not missing a beat.] Didn't I put myself in your hands?
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Are you trying to tempt me? [ since that's what it feels like too. ]
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More often than not, Larus treats him with gentle care. The kind that someone with super strength must, he imagines, have to consciously moderate their own movements and grip to manage. Someone who can't hurt him even minimally, even if encouraged to and when the hurt won't stick, is at the very least a friend, if not something more tender.]
Why do you do that? [he asks, changing the subject. It's obvious why, but he wants to hear it in Larus' own words.] You like touching my wrists, and that first time on the couch between us the same feeling was in the way you kissed my neck, [he explains. Is it the warmth? The desire to feel halfway close to being alive by being close?]
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It reminds me that you're alive, [ he settles on after a few moments, smoothing his thumb over dorian's wrist before freeing his hand. rather than skirt away from the topic, he feels the need to elaborate. ] Not that you aren't. I can hear your heart beating without even thinking about it. It's more – I don't know. A conscious effort to keep my teeth where they should be and not take what isn't mine.
[ which is a different sort of reminder, always aware of that primal instinct to bite and claim but desperate to prove that he has control over something he never wanted in the first place. ]
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Most of his familiarity with this kind of abstinence comes from Toby. But Toby didn't want to resist for the sake of other people, where Larus makes it sound as though some of his reasoning is motivated by a kindness and awareness of others.]
By giving into some of the temptation but not all of it?
[What is a heartbeat to a vampire but a calling that burrows from one body deep into the core and most primal instincts of another?]
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[ how else is he supposed to explain it? there's also something nice about the rhythm of it, the warmth that comes from the skin, and maybe a lot of it does come from the fact he misses having a pulse. he takes a moment to think about it, watching dorian before slowing shifting his shoulders in some vague shrug. if he'd thought about it extensively, maybe he would have been able to give a proper answer. ]
Like I said, it's a reminder. And I guess I just like doing it.
[ there. one thing he admits to liking, which probably doesn't say much at all. ]
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I had another vampire friend once-- not that long ago, actually, who said heartbeats filled in the silence where there was nothing else to do so. You're not from our world, of course, but there are a great many pieces of literature where I'm from where the beating of a heart means everything from the echoing of someone's guilt back at them, to the awakening of new passions. It's life.
But with my friend, I think the lack bothered him because what was left to fill the quiet were his own thoughts, mostly about himself, and they weren't... kind.
[Although Larus seems to have an acute awareness of his own vampirism, he doesn't seem anywhere near to hating himself in that same way.
But will he one day? After enough years have ticked by?]
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It doesn't bother me. Other things do, but not that. [ maybe that makes him strange. he doesn't know; it's not like he converses much with other vampires. ] Each heartbeat is different, [ he continues, touching his fingertips to dorian's chin. ] and you can tell so much just from listening to it. Someone's fears, their desires. If they're young, old, sick – so, yes, maybe it does fill the silence sometimes.
[ his hand trails down the line of dorian's throat. ]
I could pick yours out of a crowd. [ and softly: ] It sounds like your friend had more to figure out.
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In his mind there was too little left to figure out, and too much time to spend doing it.
[He takes in the feeling of Larus' hand on his neck, letting it happen, and then reaches out in turn, running a pensive touch over the side of one of the other man's arms, more thoughtful and less purposeful than the usual falling of his hands upon the other man.
The physical sturdiness, unavoidable inclination to bloodthirstiness, and remarkably human fragility of vampirism is a kind of immortality he'll never fully understand. It's strange sometimes, to be positioned as someone also immortal and witness to it, but shielded from many of the same worst aspects of it. He'll only ever be an onlooker to what it means to be immortal, but also coping with death while still animated, feeling, and sometimes connected to the world and other people.
There is one thing he's recognized, though: no vampire he's ever met has taken the little ways of feeling alive for granted in the same ways he often and unthinkingly does. He craves that ready appreciation for signs of life that seem so little and forgettable to him.]
But why do you say that?
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his fingers trace along the shape of dorian's collarbone, pushing fabric aside to expose more skin. ]
Everything is always what you make it. [ which sounds incredibly pragmatic of him. ] Finding purpose isn't easy, but it's the same with humans too. Sometimes, you fail to escape the thought there's nothing else.
[ but there's always something. always. of course, a lot of larus' motives back home where fueled by survival and spite, a different sort of hatred directed at someone else rather than himself. he could hate what he is for eternity, but he couldn't hate himself. not without something else behind it. ]
I don't want to be like that.
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You aren't a melancholic, I'll give you that. [He lets the tension keeping the robe about him loosen at the touch, fabric sliding away from his chest and over a shoulder. Fingers on his skin are welcome, and he smiles slightly, drawing Larus in with the touch resting on his arm.]
Making peace with death isn't easy, but you make it sound like you're on your way.
[It's not a platitude. It's impressive. Artless too, but an artistic or dramatic approach to death has consequences he isn't eager to see repeated in someone he's coming to care for.]
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.... forgot about sunlight woops shhh
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