[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.]
[ there's still so much he's angry about when it comes to his death, but it's been years. several hard years. yet, there's no point really dwelling on it while he's here in this place; if it's true, he won't even remember it when he returns home, a slightly sour thought when it comes to all the connections he will have made by the time that happens. mostly, he's thinking about dorian and the draw that's between them, leaning closer so his nose brushes against his jaw, his cheek.
he should kiss him again. there are hours before he can leave this building, and there's not much else that interests him. ]
But there isn't much point worrying about it here. Everything I've done back home is on pause. I need to make the most of what I have right now.
[ never mind he'd been ready to throw his life to the side to visit the down again. he might consider it before the time dorian laid out is up, but for now, he pushes it far from his thoughts and focuses on the warmth of the body against his. ]
[This is a big adjustment he's hearing from their very first conversation. It's satisfying, and feels like a good place to start.
Dorian reaches a hand to curl it around the back of Larus' head, and leans in to kiss his forehead. It's a punctuating gesture in the middle of their conversation, rather than strictly sweet.]
Good. Because I think there's an opportunity to enjoy some parts of this, at least.
[The city isn't hurting for interesting people, for one.]
[ there's a comfortable sort of easiness to all of this with dorian, and as wary as he still is, it's going to be more and more difficult to deny it when they're together. his words, that kiss. this entire conversation. larus tips his head and catches his mouth, pressing their lips together almost heatedly before drawing back. ]
Do you mean the city or you and me?
[ the city is the city. it doesn't mean anything to him, but at least he's coming to like certain other things. ]
[He follows after Larus and that kiss, drawing him in with the hand wrapped around his neck and capturing the other man's lips again for another, more insistent kiss.]
Both. [But his cultivated air of mystique is suffering for Larus going straight to the heart of the matter as usual]
I did say that I cared whether you lived or died-- [He smiles, and presses a hand against Larus' chest to ease him back against the arm of the couch. Less playfully, and with an edge of dryness:] apparently more than you do, too.
[ there's little resistance against the push, larus' expression carefully neutral as his hands slip into dorian's robe to feel skin. he's warm, as always, and it's almost nice to have this sort of freedom to touch and be touched in return. the heaviness that had weighed on him with casimir doesn't exist here. ]
I never said I wanted to die. [ it's a gentle correcting, tilting his head back to look at him. ] And though I have other reasons to keep me from feeling that way, you're interesting to me.
[ not to say it's enough, but larus' own curiosity gets him into trouble more often than anything else, which is what drives him. ]
[The combination of those words (his own admission of caring being met with curiosity -an analytical and unromantic impulse- and nothing else) and that emotionless expression is catnip. Inspired, Dorian leans in to lay himself into Larus' touch and against the length of the other man's body, pressing velvet kisses steadily up the length of the vampire's throat. When he gets there, he'll nip lightly at the hard line of his jaw.]
I can get even more interesting, [he decides, smile tugging wider.] And lucky us, you still have hours before you can go anywhere.
[Arms are in the way of him doing anything to Larus' shirt, but he can still shift his hips to slot them between the vampire's legs, pressing their lips together in a deeper kiss than any of those previously shared.]
[ larus feels himself still for a moment, the fan of dorian's breath against his throat stirring something difficult in his chest, but it passes just as quickly, one of his hands sliding free to come up and push through dorian's hair. with the deepness of that kiss, he can taste coffee and something sweeter on the other man's tongue, and for several long seconds, larus savors it for what it is. a connection, another reminder that he's with someone who's beginning to understand him. a little.
he gently grips at the curl of dark hair, nudging their noses together. ]
You don't have to try so hard.
[ a hint, soft as it is before he arches up just enough to press into him. whatever dorian might want, larus will give, and it's not as if his mind isn't elsewhere already anyway. ]
[Dorian hesitates, something in him tripping and catching at those words. Rather than latch onto the annoyed impulse that follows right away, he places a last kiss on Larus' jaw, and then tilts his head to meet his gaze, frowning.]
How am I trying hard? [As if he wouldalthough he kind of did.]
[ was that the mood being ruined? rather than disregard it, larus pursues it, sifting his fingers even deeper into dorian's hair. there's a brief glance over his shoulder towards the blocked windows and then back to look at him steadily. ]
You already have me. [ as if it's that easy. and there's a slight quirk to his lips. ] What were you going to show me that's interesting?
I don't... [Why is this throwing him off? Unexpectedly, it's hard to know how to act. Larus isn't much more than a child, if even that compared to himself, so he isn't sure how a small comment and then attempt to rebound has disarmed him like this.
[ slowly, he lets his hand slip away to rest against the back of dorian's neck, his expression curtailing slightly before smoothing out again. a brief moment of confusion, and it's tucked away for another time to think on. the way he huffs is almost... cute. ]
[ that still doesn't answer anything. larus runs through their exchange in his head and sees nothing wrong with it. ]
You are interesting. And you don't have to seduce me – I already decided to give myself to you. [ he's just a little on the end of perplexed about this. ] What were you expecting me to say?
[ he thought he was very clear about his intentions??? ]
[He doesn't know how such plainly spoken words are managing to still throw him off. Who just-- is honest about everything like Larus is seeming to try to convey that he is?
Confused, Dorian finally pulls himself up and off the other man, watching him with furrowed eyebrows.]
We didn't stipulate that the contract had anything to do with sex, [he points out firmly. They'd barely started ironing out all of the finer details of their contract, let alone signing it. So what could that mean?]
[ and he hadn't been. larus could sense the direction things were going and had followed suit, but now? rather than let him go, larus moves to grab dorian, to keep him close. it's a gentle pull, one he'd relent if dorian didn't want it, and some part of him, too, wants to smooth out the expression he wears. ]
I'm talking about right now. You were trying to seduce me, and I'd decided then. I want you. [ plainly, honestly. ] I don't think that's going to change, so you don't have to try so hard for me to agree to sex.
[Dorian doesn't resist being tugged at, but he braces himself on his hands on the couch so he can still watch, and look into Larus' face. It's not exactly helpful for getting insight into what he's saying, but it's still a habit and a strong preference.]
So, what.
If I want to initiate, all you'd want is to hear something like 'I want to have sex with you'?
[The idea isn't totally foreign, but it does seem so... plain.]
[ the urge is incredibly strong now, and he can't help it.
he rolls his eyes. ]
I think you're a little more clever than that.
[ they're obviously missing the mark, and larus doesn't want to spend hours trying to clarify when he couldn't be any clearer. he's not sure it matters now anyway, mouth thinning just slightly. it shouldn't be so difficult to remember that dorian doesn't know him well yet or his nuances, and it's certainly not fair to compare him to someone who does. ]
The urge is incredibly strong now, and he can't help it.
He sighs.
Didn't this man just tell him that he didn't need to be clever? And imply that he didn't really want it?
He isn't truly angry, but he is annoyed and confused. It's also becoming clear that nothing's going to happen now, which is its own kind of frustrating.]
I'm not the one who tried to change what was happening. I didn't ask for anything from you.
What are you talking about? I wasn't trying to change what was happening. [ and then, a little softer: ] You pulled away.
[ it's not accusing, only a fact. somewhere, things had gotten crossed, and larus slides his hand up to grip at dorian's arm as he moves closer, an attempt at coaxing him forward so there's less space between them. he meets his eyes, gaze dipping to his mouth before looking back at him. ]
[It's a tempting reconciliation and offer to try to find a way back to where they were before, but it's a bit of a climb right now. There's still a tug of indignation in his chest when he looks at Larus, and that means the moment's over.]
Nevermind. I'm not in the mood anymore. [He doesn't remove Larus' hands, but he is going to move, and then shift his way off the couch.]
I'm going to go take a bath. I'll be back later.
[Offhandedly, as he starts to leave to head back to the master bedroom:] There's plenty of reading material around everywhere, not that it's Shakespeare.
[ the frown that had crept up slides right back into place, letting him go without a word beyond some quiet acknowledgement. he doesn't even know who that is, but there's no point being so obviously about it, watching him go and listening to his heartbeat when dorian's no longer physically in the room.
it gives larus time to sit and think, not moving from his seat as he takes in the things he hadn't noticed there the first time he'd visited dorian's place. he doesn't like this feeling at all, and if he's expected to live there, what would it be like all the time? perhaps he should make some inquiries about the contract and what is or isn't necessary to add. a precaution, of course, and after a few minutes, with a thought still nagging at him, he decides to venture into the kitchen, searching quietly through the cabinets until he finds a bag; the jacket that had been discarded in the trash is stuffed inside before he ties it shut, washing his hands in the sink so as not to get any of the dried blood anywhere.
maybe someone can fix it. he doesn't know, but it's worth trying.
and by the time dorian returns, larus is once again sitting where he'd left him, scrolling through the network and some other assorted things he's found to read. it's not very interesting, and he's clearly doing it for the sake of something to do rather than anything else. ]
[There is one downside to having a Moment with a vampire when it's the middle of the day: no personal space. It's a feeling he remembers well, and it's not much more pleasant now than it was then. Before he's dressed and back in the sitting room, Dorian does himself briefly consider leaving out of an impulse of petty spitefulness, but in the end he decides against it.
But it's awkward.
He smothers the aggravation still buzzing faintly in the back of his head, and picks up the box of clove cigarettes sitting on the windowsill as he passes them. Tapping the box in the center of his palm, he draws a dark cigarette out and sticks it between his lips. He checks to make sure he's far enough away that any light coming through won't fall near Larus, and then pushes out the (absurdly high up) window as he settles himself to sit next to it on the large sill.]
Anything new? [Referencing the network on Larus' device as he flicks at his lighter at few times.
He'd rather move past the awkwardness than talk about it.]
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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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[ there's still so much he's angry about when it comes to his death, but it's been years. several hard years. yet, there's no point really dwelling on it while he's here in this place; if it's true, he won't even remember it when he returns home, a slightly sour thought when it comes to all the connections he will have made by the time that happens. mostly, he's thinking about dorian and the draw that's between them, leaning closer so his nose brushes against his jaw, his cheek.
he should kiss him again. there are hours before he can leave this building, and there's not much else that interests him. ]
But there isn't much point worrying about it here. Everything I've done back home is on pause. I need to make the most of what I have right now.
[ never mind he'd been ready to throw his life to the side to visit the down again. he might consider it before the time dorian laid out is up, but for now, he pushes it far from his thoughts and focuses on the warmth of the body against his. ]
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Dorian reaches a hand to curl it around the back of Larus' head, and leans in to kiss his forehead. It's a punctuating gesture in the middle of their conversation, rather than strictly sweet.]
Good. Because I think there's an opportunity to enjoy some parts of this, at least.
[The city isn't hurting for interesting people, for one.]
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Do you mean the city or you and me?
[ the city is the city. it doesn't mean anything to him, but at least he's coming to like certain other things. ]
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Both. [But his cultivated air of mystique is suffering for Larus going straight to the heart of the matter as usual]
I did say that I cared whether you lived or died-- [He smiles, and presses a hand against Larus' chest to ease him back against the arm of the couch. Less playfully, and with an edge of dryness:] apparently more than you do, too.
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I never said I wanted to die. [ it's a gentle correcting, tilting his head back to look at him. ] And though I have other reasons to keep me from feeling that way, you're interesting to me.
[ not to say it's enough, but larus' own curiosity gets him into trouble more often than anything else, which is what drives him. ]
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I can get even more interesting, [he decides, smile tugging wider.] And lucky us, you still have hours before you can go anywhere.
[Arms are in the way of him doing anything to Larus' shirt, but he can still shift his hips to slot them between the vampire's legs, pressing their lips together in a deeper kiss than any of those previously shared.]
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he gently grips at the curl of dark hair, nudging their noses together. ]
You don't have to try so hard.
[ a hint, soft as it is before he arches up just enough to press into him. whatever dorian might want, larus will give, and it's not as if his mind isn't elsewhere already anyway. ]
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How am I trying hard? [As if he would
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You already have me. [ as if it's that easy. and there's a slight quirk to his lips. ] What were you going to show me that's interesting?
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He huffs, flustered.]
Do you have to do-- I don't know. Do that?
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I'm not doing anything.
[ meaning he would like an explanation, please. ]
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Someone doesn't just-- say something like that when they're being seduced.
[They're flattered. They return the favor. They play with him.
They don't suggest that he might as well stop.]
Especially after telling them that what they are is interesting.
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You are interesting. And you don't have to seduce me – I already decided to give myself to you. [ he's just a little on the end of perplexed about this. ] What were you expecting me to say?
[ he thought he was very clear about his intentions??? ]
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Confused, Dorian finally pulls himself up and off the other man, watching him with furrowed eyebrows.]
We didn't stipulate that the contract had anything to do with sex, [he points out firmly. They'd barely started ironing out all of the finer details of their contract, let alone signing it. So what could that mean?]
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[ and he hadn't been. larus could sense the direction things were going and had followed suit, but now? rather than let him go, larus moves to grab dorian, to keep him close. it's a gentle pull, one he'd relent if dorian didn't want it, and some part of him, too, wants to smooth out the expression he wears. ]
I'm talking about right now. You were trying to seduce me, and I'd decided then. I want you. [ plainly, honestly. ] I don't think that's going to change, so you don't have to try so hard for me to agree to sex.
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So, what.
If I want to initiate, all you'd want is to hear something like 'I want to have sex with you'?
[The idea isn't totally foreign, but it does seem so... plain.]
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he rolls his eyes. ]
I think you're a little more clever than that.
[ they're obviously missing the mark, and larus doesn't want to spend hours trying to clarify when he couldn't be any clearer. he's not sure it matters now anyway, mouth thinning just slightly. it shouldn't be so difficult to remember that dorian doesn't know him well yet or his nuances, and it's certainly not fair to compare him to someone who does. ]
I'm just not sure what you want to hear from me.
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[But
The urge is incredibly strong now, and he can't help it.
He sighs.
Didn't this man just tell him that he didn't need to be clever? And imply that he didn't really want it?
He isn't truly angry, but he is annoyed and confused. It's also becoming clear that nothing's going to happen now, which is its own kind of frustrating.]
I'm not the one who tried to change what was happening. I didn't ask for anything from you.
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What are you talking about? I wasn't trying to change what was happening. [ and then, a little softer: ] You pulled away.
[ it's not accusing, only a fact. somewhere, things had gotten crossed, and larus slides his hand up to grip at dorian's arm as he moves closer, an attempt at coaxing him forward so there's less space between them. he meets his eyes, gaze dipping to his mouth before looking back at him. ]
I was interested in more.
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Nevermind. I'm not in the mood anymore. [He doesn't remove Larus' hands, but he is going to move, and then shift his way off the couch.]
I'm going to go take a bath. I'll be back later.
[Offhandedly, as he starts to leave to head back to the master bedroom:] There's plenty of reading material around everywhere, not that it's Shakespeare.
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it gives larus time to sit and think, not moving from his seat as he takes in the things he hadn't noticed there the first time he'd visited dorian's place. he doesn't like this feeling at all, and if he's expected to live there, what would it be like all the time? perhaps he should make some inquiries about the contract and what is or isn't necessary to add. a precaution, of course, and after a few minutes, with a thought still nagging at him, he decides to venture into the kitchen, searching quietly through the cabinets until he finds a bag; the jacket that had been discarded in the trash is stuffed inside before he ties it shut, washing his hands in the sink so as not to get any of the dried blood anywhere.
maybe someone can fix it. he doesn't know, but it's worth trying.
and by the time dorian returns, larus is once again sitting where he'd left him, scrolling through the network and some other assorted things he's found to read. it's not very interesting, and he's clearly doing it for the sake of something to do rather than anything else. ]
.... forgot about sunlight woops shhh
But it's awkward.
He smothers the aggravation still buzzing faintly in the back of his head, and picks up the box of clove cigarettes sitting on the windowsill as he passes them. Tapping the box in the center of his palm, he draws a dark cigarette out and sticks it between his lips. He checks to make sure he's far enough away that any light coming through won't fall near Larus, and then pushes out the (absurdly high up) window as he settles himself to sit next to it on the large sill.]
Anything new? [Referencing the network on Larus' device as he flicks at his lighter at few times.
He'd rather move past the awkwardness than talk about it.]
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