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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.

[ Don't say it. Don't say it. Good people don't take advantage of the fact that their friend is sad and depressed to try and make themselves less sad and depressed.

But then again, Dorian isn't a good person. ]

I could help even more if you want.

[ He moves his hand to lightly rest on Crozier's thigh. ]

[Crozier looks down at the hand. There's no mistaking Dorian's intention, his delicately-posed question.

He pauses slightly, then covers Dorian's hand with his own.]

I wouldn't be opposed.

[In fact, he'd quite like it, and doesn't let Dorian get another word in before he leans forward and presses his lips to his.]

[ And Dorian leans in as well, enjoying the feeling of Crozier's lips on his. His grip tightens a little, not moving his hand from Crozier's inner thigh. He indulges in the kiss, taking it long and sensual before he pulls back for air. ]

I should kiss you more often, [ he quietly teases, a small smile on his face. ]

[Crozier nudges their faces together again in response, feeling the smirk against his lips until he’s kissed it away. He holds Dorian’s hand at his thigh, then draws it up to hold to his shoulder.]

[ Dorian enjoys the feeling of being held close, of Francis moving his hand, of just skin to skin contact. This is dangerous and he knows it.

He gives Francis's shoulder a little squeeze, before letting out a small laugh. So hey, don't mind him as he pulls himself more into Francis's lap and goes on for another kiss. And, without thinking, Dorian's free hand goes to his own shirt. He wants to get out of these clothes and he wants to get out of them as soon as possible. ]

[Jesus.

Jesus. He exhales as Dorian's weight settles onto his lap, hand reaching up to very carefully touch his hair.

It is dangerous, but he isn't thinking that right now. He just wants to kiss and be kissed, touch and be touched.]

[ This is dangerous. And Dorian knows it. Francis is his friend, you don't fuck friends, not unless you're willing for everything to change underneath your feet. But hell. Doesn't he deserve a little distraction?

Dorian's managed to unbutton his shirt, letting it sit against his open chest. His hand then reaches around Francis, holding the man around his waist, pulling him close before he starts to slip his fingers between cloth and skin. He wants to grab that ass, thank you very much. ]

[There are certain benefits to wearing a dressing gown and nothing else, and this is one of them. Crozier sighs softly, mouth parting as he presses back against him, hand moving to touch his bare chest in appreciation.

Christ, he's beautiful.]

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