[It's a protest, to keep up his facade, and then he takes a drink, settling for trying to reach for honesty.]
There was...things are different, in Tevinter, you understand. Men fall into each others beds without much of a second thought. But...anything more than that is something that no sane man would allow himself to hope for.
I'm not certain I will ever find it, or anything like it.
[Said with no small amount of disdain. He looks at his wine again, considers, and takes a drink. If they're going to be honest. ]
None of my dalliances have ever had any real feeling to them. It was just physical. Not just with Isabela, but with an elf I met in the Initiative, also. He and I had...similar backgrounds, but even then I never let myself feel. It's dangerous.
[And that was the thing, wasn't it? It was safer, behind the walls. You never had to fear someone hurting you. Someone finding how absolutely broken you are and walking away. Or worse, uncovering more of the brokenness in yourself.
At his offer, Fenris gives a soft chuckle, not believing it at first. He has grown to like Dorian, for he is nothing like the Tevinter mages Fenris knows. Perhaps that's why Fenris wrote the other man off as out of his league a while ago. Dorian is indefinitely a better person than he is, in many different ways. ]
[Dorian chuckles, a low, amused sound that doesn't belong in any Magister's throat, and he takes a drink.
Likely that Fenris didn't know how beautiful he was, or if he did, he wrote himself off for some other reason. It was curious.
They were both broken men, but perhaps their cracks and flaws matched, in some way. Perhaps the fissures in their hearts were alike enough to be understanding, but different enough that they could stand together, somehow.]
Trust me, were I to tease you, it would be considerably more direct. Perhaps I would say something like I do wonder if the rest of you is as impressive as the glimpses of skin I can see. Or, perhaps I might give you a challenging smirk and say that I can find better uses for my lips than just giving useless offers.
[Oh. Well. Fenris exhales, seemingly taken aback for a moment. This could be a disaster. Chances are it would be a disaster, but a part of him honestly doesn't care. Maybe just this once, he can throw caution to the wind. Truly be free. His lips curl into a lopsided smirk, as he turns to Dorian. ]
[Fenris makes a small sound of amusement, before standing. Much as he has done many times before, when he leaves Dorian alone to his drinking after they've spoken. This time, however, he pauses before passing Dorian by, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder - the first voluntary contact he's made. It speaks volumes, really.
He leans in a little closer, to speak quietly into Dorian's ear. ]
Then show me.
[And, without giving Dorian the chance to reply, he heads off in the direction of his room, leaving the choice to follow him or not entirely up to the mage.]
[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.
[Fenris had moved quietly and carefully, as an elf is wont to do, listening for Dorian's following footsteps. He smiles, a little, at the sound of the closing door, turning and stepping up to him, pressing a hand on his chest.]
[He covered the hand on his chest with his own, almost hesitantly, not wanting to step farther than Fenris was willing to go, keenly aware that sometimes, someone, likely pushed him too far.
And there was the mention of pain. He was unsure if he could actually hurt him with a mere touch, so he resolved to be cautious until he was given words otherwise. He reached out, almost reverent, and gently brushed an errant strand of hair out of Fenris's face.]
[The sad truth was, there was always pain. Every waking second. But he would push past it, when he could. If he didn't...well, his life would be exponentially more lonely than it already is. HIs smile softens at the touch. He's not used to it. Isabela and Vanadi both had been desperate, hungry tumbles. This felt...different, and he was afraid to think on too long why it was so. No. It was easier not to think at all. ]
I am not certain you are capable of such a thing.
[He doesn't allow himself the hesitation, the chance to assess the swirling pool of emotion in his chest. Instead, he leans up, almost on his tip toes to press a kiss against Dorian's lips. ]
[The truth of it was that Dorian was fighting against a gnawing loneliness- he had not felt someone else's touch since he left Tevinter- the last man had been Rilienus. Dorian could almost still taste him, the memory of the first man he loved haunting him like a ghost.
It would have been simple enough to charm his way into someone's bed, to get a night off the streets in exchange for letting someone use his body for a few hours. But in the end, it boiled down to that he had too much pride.
And so he had been alone.
He makes a sound when Fenris kisses him, he can smell the lyrium etched into his skin, and that mixes with the taste of alcohol on his lips into something almost intoxicating. Dorian puts a hand at the back of Fenris's head, parting his lips a bit as he pressed against him, kissing him with only half of the passion he felt, and only a quarter of what he could manage if he tried.
Fenris wasn't delicate, no, but nor was he a toy to be used up and cast aside.]
[Fenris certainly isn't delicate, and like a true warrior, he treats everything as a battle, even sex. But this is different, Dorian's restraint is something new. It's certainly nothing he would expect from a Tevinter mage, no. There he truly was used up and cast aside.
He's not entirely sure how to deal with this. To deal with being treated with such respect. He deepens the kiss, pressing closer, his hands moving up to tangle in Dorian's hair. He will play this by ear, as best as he can. ]
[Dorian knows that Fenris has likely never known anything but cruelness from Tevinter mages. He's not a delicate posession, not a piece of prized glasswork to be kept safe.
But Dorian was never a rough, cruel man. Even among other Altus, they were often surprised at how attentive he was, how delicate he could be. Dorian had his own odd quirks in bed, but he was far from one to be cruel to someone. If anything, he was the opposite, and when his lovers left a mark it was a keen reminder of where lips had been, and bruises were almost keepsakes.
Part of him enjoyed it, part of him told himself that people hurt him because they cared for him.
He pulls back just a moment, to catch his breath, and then kisses him again, stepping from the door and pulling Fenris with him toward the bed. He knows that- sex was safer than any deeper emotions. He wants love, desperately, but this is what he knows, this is what is safe.]
Fenris has never allowed himself to even consider the possibility of love for himself. He is too broken, too fragmented for anyone to love. Besides, the only love he ever knew was a lie, to keep him complacent. He will not be fooled into it again so easily.
He stumbles back onto the bed, pulling Dorian with him; his kiss becoming more heady, more hungry. He welcomes the wave of lust washing over him, dulling out the rest of his problems, if only for a while. ]
[He keeps to his feet until they reach the bed, and then he manages a scoff, hoping that Fenris has enough fight in him to keep up the initiative he's showing. It's not that Dorian is a lazy lover, nothing like that, he just has preferences. He can always take the lead, and had to, in the past- other boys in his Circle that weren't anything noteworthy that wanted him to do all the work. Dorian prefered the push and pull, almost like a dance.
He untangled his hands from Fenris, pulling back when they reached the bed, and gave him a shove back onto the bed.
This was easy, it was what he knew. This, here, two men, meant nothing.
And with that simple gesture, he held himself back from looming over him, and knelt in from of him, between his legs, chuckling softly and setting to undoing his pants as deftly as he could.]
[For that, at least, Dorian will have no fear. Fenris has sex the same way he fights, fierce and without retreat. Some would say it is just his warrior nature coming through, but those people would be wrong. After so many years of being forced into submission, he wouldn't allow anyone to control him again. Not ever.
He uses the moment apart to catch his breath, heart thudding in his chest. His fingers curl up into Dorian's hair, neither harsh nor gentle, urging him on. If the mage wondered where those tattoos went, he was soon about to learn. ]
[Dorian bit his own lip, making a small, pleased sound when Fenris reached for him, and he got his pants open, slipping a hand inside and pulling him free, letting his fingers run along his length for just a moment more than he should have. He looked up at him, a smirk on his lips that was what would have passed for an honest smile in Tevinter.
He could have said something, but really, any words would have been lacking. He looked away from him and tugged his pants down further, and then settled into place, taking him in one hand and leaning closer to run his tongue and lips across him, managing a sound that was half a chuckle, half something else.]
[Fenris' fingers tighten in Dorian's hair, a low groan coming from his lips. His hips arch a little, responding to Dorian's touch. This is new ground for him, but he accepts it, simply allowing himself to live in the moment, for a change. ]
[The response is enough to encourage him to take him in his mouth, working his tongue and lips over his length and sucking, resting a hand against hims stomach and feeling the taught mucles under his fingers.
Fenris was an impressive man, he could tell that much already, in a small way that he would admire any beautiful man he could charm into his bed.]
[Along with the ever present lyrium (cooler, than the rets of his skin) and the taught muscles of a warrior, there are scars, faint ones. He's spent his whole life fighting, and his body is certainly proof of that.
He almost growls, like the wolf he was named after, torn between the desire to turn this into yet another battle, and actually letting himself enjoy this sort of treatment. ]
[Fenris seems a bit tense- the hands in his hair are demanding, and Dorian is certain he's not bad at this. No, this must be new, unfamiliar to him, and he pulls back, looking up at him, a slightly raised eyebrow accompanything a bit of a smirk.]
Are you alright? I can stop, if you wish.
[Some people just didn't care for this sort of thing.]
[Fenris huffs out a laugh, when he speaks, his already deep voice his hoarse and heady with desire. ]
Don't you dare.
[The quest for his own comfort is somewhat disarming. Dorian really is something else. And that, in of itself, made him dangerous in an entirely different way. ]
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Is that a reward or a punishment?
[His smile softens, a little.]
You are not alone in that endeavour. It can be...frightening, to let someone get that close.
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[It's a protest, to keep up his facade, and then he takes a drink, settling for trying to reach for honesty.]
There was...things are different, in Tevinter, you understand. Men fall into each others beds without much of a second thought. But...anything more than that is something that no sane man would allow himself to hope for.
I'm not certain I will ever find it, or anything like it.
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[Said with no small amount of disdain. He looks at his wine again, considers, and takes a drink. If they're going to be honest. ]
None of my dalliances have ever had any real feeling to them. It was just physical. Not just with Isabela, but with an elf I met in the Initiative, also. He and I had...similar backgrounds, but even then I never let myself feel. It's dangerous.
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[He looks down at his drink.]
I never did. Perhaps it's for the best, live my life behind my walls.
[And then he turns to Fenris, and he chuckles softly.]
If ever you want for company, nothing more- just intimacy, you need only ask. I assure you, you will not find me lacking.
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At his offer, Fenris gives a soft chuckle, not believing it at first. He has grown to like Dorian, for he is nothing like the Tevinter mages Fenris knows. Perhaps that's why Fenris wrote the other man off as out of his league a while ago. Dorian is indefinitely a better person than he is, in many different ways. ]
There is no need to tease me, you know.
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Likely that Fenris didn't know how beautiful he was, or if he did, he wrote himself off for some other reason. It was curious.
They were both broken men, but perhaps their cracks and flaws matched, in some way. Perhaps the fissures in their hearts were alike enough to be understanding, but different enough that they could stand together, somehow.]
Trust me, were I to tease you, it would be considerably more direct. Perhaps I would say something like I do wonder if the rest of you is as impressive as the glimpses of skin I can see. Or, perhaps I might give you a challenging smirk and say that I can find better uses for my lips than just giving useless offers.
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Oh? And what uses might those be?
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Now that...you'll have to find a way to convince me to come back to your room. Perhaps a promise of company, and the hint of more, and I can show you.
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He leans in a little closer, to speak quietly into Dorian's ear. ]
Then show me.
[And, without giving Dorian the chance to reply, he heads off in the direction of his room, leaving the choice to follow him or not entirely up to the mage.]
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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.]
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And here you are.
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And there was the mention of pain. He was unsure if he could actually hurt him with a mere touch, so he resolved to be cautious until he was given words otherwise. He reached out, almost reverent, and gently brushed an errant strand of hair out of Fenris's face.]
I make an effort not to disappoint.
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I am not certain you are capable of such a thing.
[He doesn't allow himself the hesitation, the chance to assess the swirling pool of emotion in his chest. Instead, he leans up, almost on his tip toes to press a kiss against Dorian's lips. ]
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It would have been simple enough to charm his way into someone's bed, to get a night off the streets in exchange for letting someone use his body for a few hours. But in the end, it boiled down to that he had too much pride.
And so he had been alone.
He makes a sound when Fenris kisses him, he can smell the lyrium etched into his skin, and that mixes with the taste of alcohol on his lips into something almost intoxicating. Dorian puts a hand at the back of Fenris's head, parting his lips a bit as he pressed against him, kissing him with only half of the passion he felt, and only a quarter of what he could manage if he tried.
Fenris wasn't delicate, no, but nor was he a toy to be used up and cast aside.]
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He's not entirely sure how to deal with this. To deal with being treated with such respect. He deepens the kiss, pressing closer, his hands moving up to tangle in Dorian's hair. He will play this by ear, as best as he can. ]
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But Dorian was never a rough, cruel man. Even among other Altus, they were often surprised at how attentive he was, how delicate he could be. Dorian had his own odd quirks in bed, but he was far from one to be cruel to someone. If anything, he was the opposite, and when his lovers left a mark it was a keen reminder of where lips had been, and bruises were almost keepsakes.
Part of him enjoyed it, part of him told himself that people hurt him because they cared for him.
He pulls back just a moment, to catch his breath, and then kisses him again, stepping from the door and pulling Fenris with him toward the bed. He knows that- sex was safer than any deeper emotions. He wants love, desperately, but this is what he knows, this is what is safe.]
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Fenris has never allowed himself to even consider the possibility of love for himself. He is too broken, too fragmented for anyone to love. Besides, the only love he ever knew was a lie, to keep him complacent. He will not be fooled into it again so easily.
He stumbles back onto the bed, pulling Dorian with him; his kiss becoming more heady, more hungry. He welcomes the wave of lust washing over him, dulling out the rest of his problems, if only for a while. ]
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He untangled his hands from Fenris, pulling back when they reached the bed, and gave him a shove back onto the bed.
This was easy, it was what he knew. This, here, two men, meant nothing.
And with that simple gesture, he held himself back from looming over him, and knelt in from of him, between his legs, chuckling softly and setting to undoing his pants as deftly as he could.]
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He uses the moment apart to catch his breath, heart thudding in his chest. His fingers curl up into Dorian's hair, neither harsh nor gentle, urging him on. If the mage wondered where those tattoos went, he was soon about to learn. ]
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He could have said something, but really, any words would have been lacking. He looked away from him and tugged his pants down further, and then settled into place, taking him in one hand and leaning closer to run his tongue and lips across him, managing a sound that was half a chuckle, half something else.]
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Fenris was an impressive man, he could tell that much already, in a small way that he would admire any beautiful man he could charm into his bed.]
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He almost growls, like the wolf he was named after, torn between the desire to turn this into yet another battle, and actually letting himself enjoy this sort of treatment. ]
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Are you alright? I can stop, if you wish.
[Some people just didn't care for this sort of thing.]
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Don't you dare.
[The quest for his own comfort is somewhat disarming. Dorian really is something else. And that, in of itself, made him dangerous in an entirely different way. ]
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