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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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He crawls back into bed with him, wrapping an arm around his middle before kissing his shoulder. "Mm, I suppose I'll have to simply whip you into shape."

"I hope you're talking literally."

Please be talking literally. Holy shit does Dorian very visibly want to be beat up like that.

Pagan wonders briefly if he knows how to use a whip well enough, then decides he has some time to perfect it.

"I mean it literally," he mutters, holding him close.

Dorian snuggles close to Pagan, content little smile on his face as he breathes in the man's company.

"Do that and you'll have me eating out of the palm of your hand."

He runs a hand down his back. "Go to sleep and dream about it," he teases. "That's all you'll get until you find me again, hm?"

"I will find you again," Dorian says, with absolute seriousness. He rests his head against Pagan's chest as he repeats. "I promise. I'll find you somehow."