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I wouldn't mind it. Whatever you think is best.

[This is a new way to deal with heartbreak! Getting his nails did!]

In that case, meet me at my room in...mmm, half an hour or so? I'll get things ready for our get-together.

Half an hour. Aye, I'll be there.

Thank you.

[This is why he'd gone to Dorian in the first place, Crozier knew he could rely on him not to ask too many questions and provide a nice little atmosphere to cheer his spirits.

He knocks at his door and inspects his nails while he waits. Would they look good painted? Would people laugh at him?]

[ Dorian pushes open the door. He gives Crozier a wide grin before gesturing for the man to come inside. ]

Come on. I've got snacks, nail polish, face masks, and all the things for a silly little sleepover.

[ Even though he doesn't know why Crozier needs to be distracted, it's obvious the man needs to be distracted. Dorian can do that much. ]

[He steps in with a grateful nod. It's a casual look today -- shirtsleeves and waistcoat, no over coat, no pocket watch.]

I'm imagining that the face mask you're referring to isn't the one I'm thinking of.

Probably not, [ he laughs, gesturing for Crozier to follow him to the bedroom. ] It's made for exfoliation. Brightening up your skin, freshening up your pores, things of that nature.

[Huh]

My pores…aren’t fresh?

Probably not, [ Dorian shrugs. ] I doubt you had much in the way of skincare in the Arctic. You're probably all dried out! We'll do a face mask and then I'll teach you how to moisturize

[My guy, if you could see him traipsing about on King William Land.]

I'm at your mercy, I suppose.

[He touches his hand to his face and frowns. Is his skin really all that bad?]

Oh don't give me that look, [ Dorian says, as he shoos Crozier into his bedroom. He's got to grab a few things from the bathroom but pampering shall happen in the bedroom. ]

Your skin actually looks quite good for being freeze-dried in the Arctic. There's no need for frowning.

Freeze-dried, that's a good way of putting it. Frozen, thawed, and then refrozen over and over.

[He holds up his fingers as he takes a seat on the edge of Dorian's bed. He's used to this room, after all.]

I don't have feeling in most of the tips of my fingers.

[ In the other room, Dorian winces a little. Yeesh. That sounds awful. ]

There's no way I could massage feeling back into them or anything, could I?

[ He walks back to his room, holding various beauty aids, masks, bottles, etc. as well as a bag of cotton balls. ]

As part of freshening you up, I'm dragging you to my bathroom later. That mustache and beard of yours need a trim. And I'm just the man to do so.

[He chuckles, but doesn't answer his question. No, he couldn't massage the feeling back into them, though it might be lovely to try.

He pauses to run his fingers through his beard.]

It has gotten a little out of control. Are you even able to grow a beard, or does your face stay forever youthful?

I can grow a beard if I wish, [ Dorian shrugs. ] I just don't wish to. I won't lie, I look terrible with facial hair.

Now, the first thing I'm going to give you is a cotton ball with some cleanser on it. Just wipe your face down before I put the face mask on.

Yes, sir.

[When given the cotton ball, he begins to run it along his forehead and cheeks.]

You probably wouldn't look terrible with facial hair. I doubt you could manage looking terrible.

Edited 2022-04-10 01:54 (UTC)

A little scruff maybe, [ Dorian shrugs. ] But certainly not a full beard.

That's micellar water, by the way. It's a good cleanser to help open everything up. Ideally you'd put the face mask on after a nice, hot shower but I completely forgot to tell you that you can use my shower whenever you want and I doubt you brought a towel or a change of clothes or what have you.

[What the hell does 'open everything up' mean? He stares at the little cotton ball and grimaces at the smudge of dirt left behind.

Ah.]

I...have neglected to bring any of those things, yes. Maybe just this for now.

[Although the thought of a private shower sounds amazing. He hates the inmate bathrooms.]

[ There's a pause before Dorian decides you know what? Fuck it. ]

We're nowhere close to the same size, but I'm sure I can find something of mine that would fit you, even if it's just an old bathrobe. Do you want to take a nice, hot shower?

[...yes. Yes, he very much does.]

If you think you could find me something to wear, I would like that. It's...been a while since I could indulge in a hot shower for longer than a few minutes.

Then go shower, [ Dorian says, without hesitation. ] And take as long as you want and use as much of my products and as much of my hot water as you want—trust me, I've got more. I'll find a robe and leave it outside of the bathroom. We'll return to pampering when you're fully scrubbed down.

All right, all right. Thank you.

[Honestly, how can he refuse such an offer! He removes his boots first and then gets up to amble over to the bathroom.

Once inside he strips down, folds his clothes, and then steps into the shower. It's the height of luxury, and he has to hold in a bit of a groan.]

[ Dorian shoos Crozier off with a grin. Once the other man's out of the room, Dorian pauses for a moment, realizes just what he's done, then flops back on the bed. ]

Get it together, Gray, [ he murmurs. ] You're lonely. That's it. Nothing more.

[ It takes him a moment to find a bathrobe that's a little too big for him—a gift he got ages ago and hasn't thrown out. He moves over to the bathroom, to hang it on the outside handle of the door...only to hear Crozier barely hold in a groan as he does so.

That is not helping.

Dorian hangs the robe on the door handle then immediately goes back to his room to take a few deep breaths and just calm himself. ]

[Crozier indulges in the hot water and steam and luxurious soaps, but makes sure it's not for too long. He's well aware that Dorian is being generous with his space, and he doesn't want to take advantage of it.

Even if it feels really, really, really damn good.

He steps out of the shower and reaches for a towel, poking his head out of the door and glancing at the robe.]

For me, I assume?

[ Dorian distracts himself by flopping on his bed, reading a book. When he hears Crozier's voice, he lowers the book to look at the man: Dorian's lying on his bed, looking at Crozier from an upside down position, head dangling slightly off the edge of his bed. ]

Of course. I think it fits? Tell me if it doesn't, I'll poke around and find something else otherwise.

[He picks it up and slips back into the bathroom. The robe isn't a perfect fit, but it covers what it needs to and he doesn't feel all that silly wearing it. A success by Crozier's standards.

He comes back out of the bathroom feeling about ten years younger.]

You have this soap, rosemary and mint -- I thought my head was on fire at first.

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