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[brushoff]

"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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[brushoff]

You know you've asked that question to the only person on the Barge who could easily remove a rib if he so chose, [ Dorian lightly teases. ]

I've gotten my appendix removed twice. Regrowing a rib should be easy enough.

[epistemological]

Having had two removed, I would prefer you didn't. If you want to see one, it's in my office in my desk drawer.

[ He breathes out slowly and nudges Dorian. Don't stop, please.

But once he's had a moment or two, once he's closed his eyes again, he lets the air out of his lungs slowly. ]

There's only one person I've ever talked to about it really. What it's like. [ as if realizing he might be going somewhere he shouldn't- ] But it feels... presumptive to assume I can speak on addiction, like you said. It's different.

[brushoff]

[ The massage continues.

Dorian has a sneaky suspicion as to who the person Jon talked to was. He'll keep that to himself, though. ]

Still, if you ever wanted to talk about it, I wouldn't mind listening.

[epistemological]

[ His eyes remain closed, at least the ones on his face, but the other eyes... those are now open. They're focused on Dorian, not so much because he needs to look at him as they need to look at something and Dorian happens to be the thing he likes most in the room. His voice is soft, achingly tired, and Dorian will feel it in the muscles beneath his hands: the tension at first and the slow release as he continues.]

It's not an addiction, you're right. But it is a... hunger. I can't forget the way it was, how it felt, subsisting primarily on written statements, chewing over the bones of a previous meal, eeking out the second-hand terror as I read them aloud. But it's... worse than that.

So much worse.

I think-

I think I'm more aware of just how fucked so many people in this place actually have been. I think- I think I know better than anyone just how much pain is locked up inside, just how much grief and terror and helplessness is in everyone here. Inmates. Wardens. It doesn't fucking matter. I'm a predator, Dorian. I. subsist. on it.

I smell it.

Not... not on everyone. I think there are some worlds, some- some people who for some reason or another, they muddle my senses but for most people here, the majority of people here, I can smell the statement under their skin, lurking in their bones, feel it hiding in the way they twitch or how they react when someone does that one specific thing that sets them off-

I Know. I know it's there and I- [ a darker chuckle ] and there is a part of me that wants to drag them into a corner and draw it out of them, reach in and say 'tell me' and know what it is, know why they're hurting. Even the best part of me. I don't, obviously. I wouldn't, I just- Henry accused me of wanting to be human, of wanting to be normal the other day and I-

In some ways, I don't think I even remember what that is anymore. I don't think I could survive like that. I might look human but the more I live in this skin, the longer I feel and know and smell and see what I see, the more-

The more I think that even if I get a deal and purge myself of the influence of the Entities, break the chain between us, I- I-

I still won't be human.

[brushoff]

[ There's a pause as Dorian takes all this in. There's a moment as he's quiet, continuing to massage Jon's shoulders before he asks, ]

Is it really that important to be human?

[ There's a pause before he continues. ] Technically, I'm human. I bleed, I break, if there's some lovely little nonsense that affects humanity, it'll affect me as well. But if we're talking experiences? Personality? I've got more in common with the monsters and the vampires of the world than I do anything human.

Henry didn't accuse you of wanting to be human because he thought you were trying to be human. Henry accused you of wanting to be human because you rejected the fucked up little Ubermensch ideal that he feels anyone who's more than a baseline human should aspire to.

[ Case in point: Dorian himself. He's had that conversation with Henry before. ]

What matters isn't trying to be human or fit in or not giving in to your hunger. What matters is trying to be a decent person. You're that in spades.

[epistemological]

[ That gets a more genuinely amused chuckle.]

Oh, I'm well aware of that, Dorian. I know how he sees things. And I wasn't-

I wasn't actually saying I want that. That I want to be human. That there's something wrong with not being human.

I'm saying...

I don't... know what I'm going to do. Because once I get my deal, and I have to get it, that- I'd never dream of not getting it... that is... that is what I will be. Without that connection, I'm physically human.

But my insides... aren't. Haven't been.

It's... something I've been struggling with.

[brushoff]

No matter what happens, I suspect you'll do the same thing you always do, [ Dorian muses. ] Wake up the next day and decide to try your best.

[epistemological]

Yes, well, it would help if my best weren't constantly fucking it up, hmm?

[ He closes his eyes again. ]

[brushoff]

Constantly fucking things up isn't something unique to the Jonathan Sims of the world, [ Dorian dryly responds. ] Everybody does that as well.

[epistemological]

Yes, but I'm the only me, as it were. I'm allowed to dislike it.

[brushoff]

You're the only you so far. I'm certain your world has a Dorian Gray who's already one of those Entity's bitch. Why shouldn't my world have a Jonathan Sims who's lived a normal, day to day, peaceful sort of life?

[epistemological]

I know of exactly one other Jonathan Sims. He has most certainly not lived a normal, day-to-day life.

Because Jonathan Sims would lose his bloody mind if he tried to.

[brushoff]

Once you've had a taste of these things, it's hard to go back.

[epistemological]

Quite a lot of people want desperately to go back.

I was just... never one of them.

[brushoff]

One of the many reasons I adore you. I don't want anyone safe. Safe is dull, I've had a hundred years to be safe. I want someone who can match me for what I am.

[epistemological]

[ There's a very wry smile on his face. ]

So I'm a well-matched purse, am I?

[brushoff]

You're a perfect fit. And don't you forget it.

[epistemological]

[ His eyes slip closed before he asks- ]

So how awkward about the, er, lack of sex are you feeling, exactly?

[brushoff]

[ There's a small pause before, ]

I won't lie. It is a bit awkward. Normally I'm able to convince people to...overlook their hesitancy. [ aka Dorian absolutely thought that he could convince Jon to fuck him anyway. ]

I'm also not going to lie: I really like sex. I'm perfectly fine cuddling you and giving you a massage all you want, but I would like to find someone who I can manage to jack off every now and then.

[epistemological]

[ He turns a little on the bed. ]

I know who I got into this bed with, Dorian. I'm hardly expecting monogamy.

[ He rests no one hand with his cheek against his palm. ]

I'm perfectly happy to take care of you. I do enjoy giving in that respect. And I'm certainly not morally opposed to anything, I just-

[ He shakes his head. ]

The, er, equipment works, as it were. It's just... awkward and sex doesn't really... arouse me. Most partners find it disheartening to get to me and find I'm not even half hard and it just makes the whole thing unpleasant.

[brushoff]

[ 'Sex doesn't arouse him.' In Dorian's mind, that's a challenge. He's keeping this to himself though as he nods. ]

You know, if sex doesn't arouse you, there are plenty of other things we can try that might work. Technically speaking, you can easily get someone off without actually fucking them.

[epistemological]

...I don't like pain either, for reference. Despite the lack of damage. I-in case that's where you were going.

[brushoff]

I mean it doesn't have to be pain, [ Dorian points out, like it's the most obvious thing ever. ]

It could be...I don't know, sensations. Being tied up. The chill of an ice cube running down your spine.

[epistemological]

...maybe?

[ He doesn't look opposed just unsure. Except for- ]

Not being tied up. Or blindfolded. T-too too many kidnappings for that to hold any appeal.

[brushoff]

[ He nods. He can do that much, that's good. ]

What about wax? Or...hmm, we could do something with a lighter sensation. Feathers, maybe.