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[ Dorian can't help but grin, adjusting his position so that he's sitting cross-legged and upright on the bed as he talks. ]

That one's one of my favorites. As far as I'm concerned, if I can make an experience luxurious or a treat for the senses, I should. And in my opinion, that soap smells absolutely delightful.

[ There's a pause before he admits, ] That's why I have these beauty supplies as well. Technically I don't need a face mask or moisturizer or anything of the sort. My portrait will take on cracked skin or clogged pores in the end. But it feels damn wonderful in the meantime.

[He sits back down beside him, smiling to himself.]

Hedonist.

Mmm and then some, [ Dorian laughs. ] I've got an image to maintain, after all! God forbid anyone assume that I'm 'dull' or 'subtle.'

Oh, I don't think anyone could ever assume that about you. Dull, subtle, or anything in that vein.

I do enjoy flattery, [ Dorian laughs. He pushes himself up from the bed, reaching over to grab a small plastic container of some pink goop. ]

Now, this is the sort of facial mask you peel off. I'll put it on you, then I'll put the rest on my own face. We'll have to wait for...mmm, a half hour or so? Then you get to the fun yet slightly disgusting bit.

[Dryly:] My pores are yours.

[He does smile though, and waits for the application of the goop. No turning back now!]

[ It's as he adjusts his position so that he's practically straddling Crozier, getting close enough so that he doesn't have to reach far to touch the man's face, that Dorian realizes just how this would look to someone coming into the room without any context.

He's just not gonna think about that for the moment! Time to spread some cold pink goop over Crozier's face, taking care not to get it in the man's beard or mustache (that would be kind of gross and sticky).

When the face mask is fully applied, Dorian moves his hands back, ] It's still sticky so don't touch it. It'll feel a bit weird as it dries, but again, it's supposed to feel that way.

[Crozier is also thinking about how this looks, how it feels, how sort of nice it is to be looked after. He smiles and tests out the feeling of the mask on his face, opening his mouth and wriggling his nose.]

Am I beautiful yet?

You're always beautiful, [ Dorian teases, ] just in a slightly frostbitten old man sort of way.

[ He dips his fingers in the goop again before Dorian slathers the rest of it on his face. After all, they were just talking about what a hedonist he is. He wants to feel good as well! ]

I can hope for that much.

[He tries to smile, but it feels really really odd with the mask on.]

Well. Now what do we do?

We relax, [ Dorian grins. ] We lay back on my bed, I'll put on some music, and we just relax for twenty minutes. And after that, when we peel the mask off, I'll do your nails.

[Lie back in bed, he can handle that. He moves back slightly, leaning back on one of the pillows.]

What sort of music?

[ Dorian moves over to his record player, leafing through his records as he talks. ]

Something instrumental. Something that we can just close our eyes to and vibe to. Something that you've never heard of before and that can blow your mind. Something—ha, this is perfect!

[ Dorian grins, taking a record out. He puts the record on as the sweet sounds of Henry Mancini start to play through the room. ]

I'll need to make you watch The Pink Panther at some point. It's a classic film—the sequels, not so much.

[He isn't certain he's heard anything like this before. He lies back and closes his eyes, interested in following the horn in the song.]

What's it about?

It's a comedy. A jewel thief attempts to steal a famous gemstone known as the Pink Panther and an inept detective tries to stop him.

Funny as hell. We should watch it together some day.

[ Dorian's eyes are closed as well, and there's a little smile on his face as he just enjoys the moment. ]

I’d like that, very much.

[The movie itself is irrelevant, it’s the company he enjoys.]

Then I'll make it happen, [ Dorian says, like it's the most obvious thing ever. That smile grows a little bigger as he lays back to listen to the music. ]

After all, if I want something, I'll get it.

I’ve noticed. You’re spoiled as all hell.

I'm rich, young, good-looking, and people have flocked and fawned over me for the majority of my life. Why wouldn't I be spoiled as hell?

[He scoffs] You're not young, you're older than I am. Old man Gray.

I don't look it though, [ he points out. ] And really, isn't that's what's most important?

[ nope. ]

To all the wrong sorts of people, Mr. Gray.

I am the wrong sorts of people, [ he points out. He goes quiet, letting the sound of Henry Mancini fill the room before Dorian points out, serious tone in his voice, ] You'll figure that out with time.

But only one of us is an inmate.

[He turns his head, away from Dorian's gaze, considering.]

If I'm being honest, there are times when I wonder why I'm not the inmate.

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