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"You've reached the inbox of one Dorian Gray. Don't forget to leave me a message. If you're interesting, I'll get back to you."

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"Unsurprisingly, I'm not going to be in favor of some terrible racists who shove your cute little butt in a dungeon."

Sorry Godric! Dorian is absolutely painting all these religious nutters with a very terrible brush.

He smiles to hear it because, honestly, that's how things should be. "It was the church basement. Hardly a dungeon," he points out. "I played solitaire with cards that had pictures of the saints."

He turns, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"But they absolutely intended to sacrifice me to the sun."

"Those fuckers," Dorian cheerfully responds, snuggling up to Godric.

"You know, if we were in the same world, I'd be dramatically rescuing you from the basement. I'm that sort of stupidly sentimental sometimes."

"Did you miss the part where I walked out when I was finished being there?" he asks with a playful sort of laugh.

"And do you really think I'd let you walk out before I can have my gallant heroics?" he teases right back. "I've got to show off somehow."

"Ah, I suppose I will have to see that one day. Heroes should be rewarded, after all," he tells him with a smile.

"I'm sure I can find another situation where I can be heroic and obnoxious," Dorian laughs. He cuddles up close to Godric, closing his eyes for a moment, just indulging in skin to skin contact.