Can't read my, can't read my, no he can't read my...

[tevinteraltus]

who: Dorian, Cisco, Magnus, Iona, Taako (and people they invite)
what: Sharing card games! Drinking! Probably bad and not so bad life choices!
when: February 10th, laaate to even laaaater
where: An out of the way bar
warnings: Drinking, references to sex, mental abuse (the night is young, and I mean references okay), and who knows, these are some crazy kids.

Dorian had actually taken time to process having found decks of cards from Thedas in one of the shops in the Quarantine. He'd resigned himself to this place, was actually starting to like it at times, and enjoy the company of certain men (which he tried very hard not to think on overmuch). Then this threw a wrench into his carefully laid new life. The homesickness had very nearly started to fade to a dull throb, and yet there it was again, flaring with renewed vigor. He'd shown the deck to Iona, and suggested they gather some friends, his friends really (which was still odd to think of) for a lesson and a few rounds at a local bar. No wagers were necessary of course, but the night could go in any direction.

He'd texted Cisco, and they'd added other games to the mix as well. It was, of course, most likely to be a casual affair with various games at different times, but it should be fun, and good for Iona. Something was bothering her, after all.

He was more nervous, of course, of his introducing her to Magnus. She who was so much like a sister to him, a long lost sibling he'd never had and the closest to family he'd ever known and he...was, well, complicated. Dorian had a lot of feelings regarding Magnus he hadn't taken the time to articulate, and they were only getting more twisted and hard to identify as time went on. Now, on top of that, well, let's just say it's a fine thing this place serves wine.

Living in the communal housing and collecting a wage meant reserving one of the establishment's back rooms for their use, with it's scattered tables, hadn't broken the bank so to speak, and he was going to leave everyone to their own tabs of course. This wasn't a charity event, after all. Those who arrived would need only mention who they were looking for to be shown to the back rooms.

(OOC: Feel free to post your own mingle posts for chilling at the bar, and such! Taking part in the actual game of Wicked Grace isn't required to chill!)

Comments

[ohhmrburnsides]

Magnus's insight is pretty good—not enough to really get into Dorian's head, but enough to see that Dorian is bullshitting. (He's dealt with this kind of attitude enough living with Taako, so he's had practice.) He's glad Dorian isn't actually upset about the clutter. That would've stung, probably. Instead it seems more like Dorian is just stalling, as he'd typically be on his way by now. Two can play at that game.

"I guess that makes sense, yeah." He smirks, figuring that eventually he'll get some kind of truth out of Dorian. He'll wrestle it out if he has to. "But you've come back here, what, five, six times? I was under the impression that you were starting to like it. Figured I was getting by just on my smokin' hot looks."

[tevinteraltus]

Dorian turned further at that, moving his olive eyes over Magnus' form, sitting now but no less a welcome sight before shrugging again slightly and turning back to look at the room. If Magnus was willing to dance, Dorian could dance for hours, and maybe he could get the big man to say something about whatever this was developing between them before he did. Maker willing.

"I suppose it's sufficed for the moment, and the room, while a tad small, isn't claustrophobic. I would add a few more cushions, and are more bookcases." He took a steadying breath before continuing. "Not that I'm suggesting mutual domesticity, of course, but I may be more inclined to visit."

[ohhmrburnsides]

He’s got a curious grin on his face as he listens to Dorian talk. He’s picked up that Dorian doesn’t seem to want to maintain eye contact, as much as Magnus can’t take his eyes off of him. Which absolutely makes Dorian’s throwaway, ‘Not that I’m suggesting mutual domesticity,’ sound super genuine. Except that actually it sounds super fake.

“Sooo, what you’re saying is, fill the place up with books and pillows and that might convince you to actually stay the night.”

It sounds confident enough, but if Dorian turns to look at Magnus he’ll notice that confidence shrinks away right after it leaves his mouth. He realizes a little too late that maybe this isn’t the bush that Dorian was beating around. He's suddenly afraid he seem pushy, or clingy, or whatever. So, to cushion what might end up being his fall, he adds, softly, “I mean... if you want to stay, you can. I'd be cool with that."

[tevinteraltus]

Even if it hadn't been Magnus' decision, something clenched in his throat when he posited the question. Would books make him stay the night? Well, yes, but...had that been hopefulness he'd heard in Magnus' voice? Uncertainty, surely, but a familiar one. If he thought on it, Magnus sounded quite a bit like Dorian himself felt: uncertain and wary, carefully prodding a bear that could bite his head off as easily as it could remain in hibernation.

He swallowed the lump that clenched his throat as best he could, and took a steeling breath before finally just asking. He could leave quickly, of course, forget the big man's number, and carefully avoid anywhere that could risk their meeting again, depending on the answer.

"Do...you want me to stay?" He couldn't bring himself to look at Magnus, not directly. He didn't think he could bear the rejection if it came.

[ohhmrburnsides]

The silence before Dorian's response isn't particularly longer than any of their previous pauses had been, but it feels like eternity. If there was going to be a time for Dorian to walk away, this would be it.

...But instead, he asks, 'Do you want me to stay?' as if the answer hadn't been obvious. (At least, Magnus thinks he's being really obvious.) Despite his nerves—or maybe because of them—Magnus lets out a soft chuckle in response to Dorian's question. "I kinda just asked you to, didn't I?"

But he doesn't leave it there; it wouldn't be fair to. So he clarifies, sincerely, "Yes, I want you to stay. I'd like that."

[tevinteraltus]

"Truly?" It was the sincerity in Magnus' final declaration that struck him the hardest. The rest, the chuckle even, he could bargain off as placating, patronizing him even, but his tone with those final words...

Dorian finally turned to him then, his conflicting emotions evident in his expression. It seemed almost stricken, fearful, and probably more uncertain than Magnus had ever seen him before. The incredulousness of that one uttered question was there as well, and he swallowed, shaking his head before returning to the bed, having a seat, but pulling his eyes from Magnus as he did so.

"I...perhaps I should...explain." He took a deep breath to steady the trembling from his voice. He shouldn't be this afraid and yet, here he was, as though the world teetered on the brink of this conversation. Maker he could be over-dramatic sometimes. His mother always told him that. "This sort of thing isn't...accepted in my homeland. It isn't done save behind closed doors, and...it's only ever sex. I never—" He cut himself off again to steel his nerves. "I decided at an early age, regardless of what my family expected of me, I refused to live a lie, to...marry some unfortunate scion of some powerful Altus house and spend my entire life in misery. In accepting that, I also accepted I would live in relative peace...thoroughly alone."

He hazarded a glance at Magnus, much closer now than he'd been before, to gauge exactly how over-dramatic the other man thought he was, or if he seemed to care at all.

[ohhmrburnsides]

He gives Dorian all the space he needs to sit and explain. Magnus honestly hadn't expected an admission of this magnitude—he'd assumed until now that Dorian was just the type to keep it impersonal. This isn't a side of Dorian he ever expected to see. (It's certainly not unwelcome. Magnus had hoped for something a bit closer than their current arrangement, anyway.) Regardless of how surprised he is by all this, he listens intently, attention focused on what Dorian has to say.

Magnus has had the virtuous luck to come from a universe where preferences are just preferences, and nobody thinks anything of it. It's only since his arrival in Riverview that he's heard of any such discrimination. It's, frankly, one of the grosser injustices he's heard of. If he were lacking in sensitivity he'd let himself get riled up in anger about it, but he knows that would do no good. It's not what Dorian needs right now.

Nothing about Dorian's admission seems over-dramatic. It's perfectly reasonable for him to have been nervous about this. "I'm... I'm sorry you had to live like that. It's really brave for you to do that. To live your own life, against your family's wishes." If the two had been closer at this point, if this hadn't been their first real Feelings Talk, Magnus might have pulled Dorian into a big, crushing hug, but he's smart enough to consider that it might be just a little inappropriate for right now. Instead he opts to be less invasive by placing a warm hand on Dorian's shoulder, squeezing gently, still offering comfort in a small way. "You don't have to live like that here, y'know... Alone, I mean."

[tevinteraltus]

If this conversation had occurred sooner, before he'd met Cisco, seen he and Eddie together, spoken with Taako, and just witnessed how...welcoming and open the Quarantine was with just about everything, he would have reacted much more poorly. As it stood, when Magnus' comforting hand squeezed his shoulder, his first instinct was to flinch but he reined it in. To spite himself, he enjoyed Magnus' company, and Magnus really. He found that silly grin of his adorable, and Magnus' insight and attentiveness endearing. Damn him he'd miss the lummox if he were gone, if they were to end this...whatever it was between them.

But Magnus' words caught him off-guard. Iona had said something similar, after she'd been thrust in between he and his father: that he was, "brave?". The word was barely muttered, and asked of the air more than directed at Magnus himself.

Dorian still didn't understand how running away from one's problems was a courageous act, and now, with his father's apparent assassination and his ascension to the Magisterium regardless, it didn't seem as though he'd run all that far after all. He gave a shake of his head, as though to ward away the thoughts of home, a place so far away and at the moment unreachable, and turned his head toward Magnus instead.

"...what is it you're trying to say?" No, there was no call for solitude, that was certain, but he couldn't simply assume. It was too risky, too much chance for heartache.

[ohhmrburnsides]

Magnus opens his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is, “I mean—“ before he stops to think. Dorian’s question is difficult to answer. It’s not because Magnus doesn’t know the answer; he knows exactly what he wants. It’s more that he isn’t sure how to say it. He’s still concerned that the wrong words might scare Dorian off somehow.

His lips purse as he tries to put some safe, chill, non-threatening words together. But Magnus isn’t particularly good at words, or, really, at thinking. What he’s good at is acting before he can consider the consequences. So he gives up on thinking and, instead of speaking, he moves. His hand slides up to Dorian’s cheek and he leans in to kiss him. Although this isn’t their first (not even their first tonight), he does it more softly, more sweetly than any of their previous kisses.

When he pulls away, his hand rests once again on Dorian's shoulder, with the intent of giving him some breathing room to think in. But when it comes to words, Magnus has, at this point, thrown safe out the window. So he just says it. “This doesn’t have to just be a sex thing. It can be a feelings thing, too."

[tevinteraltus]

Dorian has known many lovers. There were many more he could barely remember though the haze of wine and whatever had been passed around at Circle dormitories that night. He'd fulfilled fantasies for men, and had satisfied the needs of others who's stations didn't afford for such relations but the desires existed nonetheless. He'd been a pleasant distraction and the most charming man in the room. He'd been the object of desire on countless occasions but never, not once, has anyone ever kissed him like this. It was deep, yes, and full of desire certainly, but it was a craving for something no one had ever sought in him before: him. Not a lust sparked by his perfect physique or his high cheekbones, nor his sparkling smile or his brooding olive eyes glittering with intelligence and wit. No.

He'd read of the blush, the flush of emotion that welled within one's breast when one's desires for companionship sparked a deeper lust, when attraction meant a fondness for a person and not only a stiffness in the smallclothes that needed an outlet. This was a spark really, not a raging flame, but it was something, and something that, until coming here, he never would have dreamed possible. Not for him. He'd resigned himself to that.

And yet, here was this hulk of a man, looking at him with those eyes and saying those words. Magnus was a moron. He was impulsive, nearly innocent in his simpleness...but he was gentle, caring, boisterous and loved a good time as much as Dorian did. It was a risk, certainly, full of danger, but Magnus had never once shown him anything but caring. Maybe...he could trust him.

He took a steadying breath before turning to him, brushing aside the hand resting on his shoulder and moving closer to him, seeking his lips again.

"I may be amenable, but I'd like to try that kiss again first."