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Oh, but I couldn’t. That’s not me. [It’d taken him years to become comfortable with having a steward after all.]

I don’t do nonsense — barring this. This is my only exception.

Then I'll have to find a way to put more nonsense in your life, [ Dorian teases. With that, he uncaps the blue and carefully, deftly starts to paint Crozier's nails. ]

You look like a man who might need it.

[He laughs softly and ducks his head a little.] I may be, in fact, a man who needs it.

I'll happily give it to you. [ There's a wide grin on Dorian's face as he admits, ] My life is quite nonsense anyway.

[Dryly:] I've noticed. You seem to have plenty to share.

I'm selfish, not rude. I wouldn't want to hog all the fun.

[He rolls his eyes, but continues to watch Dorian's fingers as he paints his nails.]

This is a good color.

Isn't it? I wanted to go for something dark, yet a little understated. You don't wear light colors as much, so it'd be rubbish to go for pastels, and since this is your first time getting your nails painted, I wouldn't want to go for something bright and aggressively eye-catching like red or a neon.

[ He takes Crozier's other hand as he continues to chatter away—it's obvious Dorian put a lot of thought into this (though he won't admit it). ]

Really, I should have gone for a nude since this is your first time and all, but that would just be so horrifically dull. Might as well have fun with it for a bit and then you can decide if you want to tone it down a notch.

Go big or go home -- isn't that the saying? [He's heard it once or twice.]

Does it look all right so far? The blue on my hand?

You look wonderful, [ Dorian grins. ] Pair it with one of your navy blues and you'll look even better.

[Oh. He thinks he looks wonderful. There’s no stopping the heat rising to his cheeks now.]

Thank Christ it’s all I seem to wear.

[ And Dorian finally stops being a little oblivious, looking up just in time to see Crozier blush.

Oh.

Oh.

Your type is 'horrifically depressed,' the little voice of annoyance points out in the back of Dorian's mind. Because when he sees Crozier blush, there's a little part of Dorian that's just so damn happy he managed to make this man blush. He'll have to compliment him more often. ]

I can change that if you want. Nothing too drastic, of course. But trim your beard a little bit, let me find a few items from the wardrobe that fit you, and we can at least introduce a little modernity to your style.

I...

[He hesitates, but only for this single reason: if he changes those things about himself, allows himself to look a little more fashionable, a little more put together, what then is his excuse for when people push him away?

But Dorian is very sincere.]

Might be enjoyable to try.

If you don't like it, you can always go back to what you were wearing before, [ Dorian smiles. ] You can even take off the nail polish if you want—though I'd recommend waiting until that dried.

Oh, don't play coy. You know I'm enjoying this.

[And he especially wants to see how it looks when it dries.]

I know you are, [ he laughs. ] I'm enjoying it too.

[ The second hand's done. Dorian sets the bottle back on the side table before, without even thinking, taking Crozier's hand in his own to lightly blow on the nails again, as if that would speed up the drying process. ]

Right. Don't brush them up against anything or bump them on anything for the next five minutes while the polish dries. You can sit here and talk with me instead.

[He doesn't question Dorian's methods, having never painted his nails before. It does feel terribly intimate though, and he can't help but turn his head away.]

You mean, continue to sit here and talk with you.

I do indeed mean just that, [ he grins. ]

If you ever get bored, I'm a chatty little bitch. I can find a story to distract you.

That's why I came, I thought you might distract me.

[ A moment's pause before he asks, ]

What am I distracting you from?

[Dorian's disarmed him just enough that there's only a brief moment of hesitation before he answers. He frowns softly.]

I'm missing someone. [And he's lonely.]

Well. [ There's a pause before Dorian tiredly laughs, ] That makes two of us.

[A nod, and his smile turns sympathetic.] Everyone's missing someone, aren't they?

That we are, [ he sighs. ] I suppose what matters is how we decide to best cope with the missing.

Me? I invited myself over to a friend's cabin and get my nails painted.

[He laughs softly and brings his nails up to his face to inspect the drying color.]

Thank you, Dorian. It's helped.

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