[Fenris touches him, and the weight of that settles on him- the hand on his shoulder is regarded almost as a benediction- for someone who hated Tevinter, for the Magisterium, for the man that Dorian was meant to be, Fenris trusted him enough to welcome him into his bed.
Dorian didn't waste much time- he threw back his whiskey and followed, not too closely, but enough that he was able to pick up the pace when they neared his room, and Dorian was able to follow him inside.
no subject
Dorian didn't waste much time- he threw back his whiskey and followed, not too closely, but enough that he was able to pick up the pace when they neared his room, and Dorian was able to follow him inside.
He closed the door behind them, and locked it.]