Dorian goes silent for a bit, obviously grappling between two different options. After a moment and a small huff, 'trying to de-escalate and not fucking off' wins out.
"Honestly, the biggest surprise is that you haven't punched me in the face before now. I'm not...it would have happened eventually. I'm good at hurting people and not good at lasting relationships."
Tim's temper always burns hot and fast, if he doesn't let it bank and turn into a seemingly-eternal grudge. So he settles quickly, letting Dorian find his words as he takes a moment to breathe through his own flared temper.
Not that he likes what he hears, but it's still a kind of progress. So he's calm when he replies.
"You make it sound like you come into a relationship expecting to fuck it up. That it's just, like. A matter of time. Inevitable."
"Obviously," Dorian says, with a little shrug. "That's how it happens most of the time. Either I fuck it up or something happens to end it before I can fuck it up."
God, they really are a pair. Of idiots, but still.
"Look, I'm not gonna be trite and accuse you of not trying, when you're in one, but it seems an awful lot like you take relationships for granted, what with staring at the rug the entire time to see when it gets pulled out from under you."
Dorian furrows his brow, obviously taking a bit of offense at that statement. "Of course I'm not taking them for granted. I just know that they won't last long. Might as well enjoy what I have when I have it before something happens."
"You know that's not helping your argument, right?" Dorian why are you like this. "Might as well not bother with relationships at all, if they're gonna crash and burn. Save yourself the effort."
"Dunno," he hums. "Personally if I knew my partner was just waiting for the entire thing to go wrong, I wouldn't want to stick with them. Now I know Jon's never gonna pick that up, but he did notice how the only long-term plan you've made in earshot of him was with Pagan."
Oh. Right. Dorian bites his lip slightly before deciding fuck it, he's tired, let's just tell Tim this because he'll probably end up telling Jon this later.
"And we're circling back to the point of how I'm a coward. I know what Jon's plans are when he leaves the ship. He's going to spend his time traveling and visiting everybody, bothering the friends he made here. And I know I can't do that. I'd much rather leave on a high note then spend the next few decades watching all my friends slowly age and die."
Hand gestures are coming into play now, emphatic rather than sharp but still displaying emotion he's trying to keep out of his voice.
"Yes, because he was telling you in his incredibly obtuse way that he would like you to come with him. You're not him, Dorian, you must have picked up on that!" He wants to shake the pair of you, he literally told you to use your words!! "At this point it's not even you being a coward, it's literally just you trying to orchestrate the relationship and cracking a wobbly because Jon's not playing along to the script!"
"But I don't want to come with him!" Dorian points out, annoyance slipping into his voice. "I don't want that sort of life! I was planning to return back to my world after Trixie graduated and he knows it. With all that in mind, why would I want to join in on his cut-rate Doctor Who idea?"
He huffs, rolling his eyes before, "It's not orchestrating the relationship, it's thinking that the other person knows you well enough so that you don't have to outright say it. If Jon wanted me to come with him, he should have told me himself. Instead, he's doing what you just accused me of."
His hands come up to rub his temples. "Because you're both the exact same kind of idiot! It's honestly amazing you two didn't have a blow-up earlier, since neither of you seem at all capable of sitting the other one down and saying what you actually want! You both just assume that you know what the other wants and get mad when they don't!"
Cups both hands over his face. Drags them down as he inhales, deeply so he can press his hands together in front of and against his mouth like a prayer, even looking skywards for a moment.
And then points both hands at Dorian.
"I am," he says, with a voice of unsettling calm, "This close to punching you again."
"Thank you." It's still a little exasperated but it's largely drowned out by the sheer relief that his point has been understood. "I'll let him know so he doesn't immediately hang up on you."
Well, conversation successful, at any rate. Amazing what using your words got you.
Though there's no need for words as he pulls his own packet out of his pocket, keeping one cigarette for himself before he just offers the box to Dorian to replenish his clearly suffering supplies.
It has been a very long past few months for Dorian. He gives Tim a little nod of appreciation before slipping the box into his coat pocket—no words though, as his mouth is currently occupied holding that third cigarette.
Hopefully he can understand that little unspoken communication.
Tim sticks his cigarette behind his ear for now. He doesn't really need it just yet.
"If you're sick of my voice and want me to fuck off, I can if you want," he says, gentle and somewhat wry. "But I get how rough comas are. And the bullshit Misty's pulling is fucking insane, so. If you wanted some company for a drink about it..."
Just the fact that someone else agrees Misty's being fucking insane is enough for Dorian. He lets out a bit of a sigh. He and Misty run very hot and cold but no matter the state of their friendship? Christ she has a tendency to be fucking insane.
"She barricaded his fucking body in her room. I got the impression that if she had the opportunity, she'd happily sell tickets. So yes, I'd love a drink and some company."
"You might have missed it, what with being fifteen minutes late with Starbucks, but the very first thing she did when we all got back from the other bloody ships was try and restart her self-serving investigation into my fucking murder from before we left," he says flatly. Which, guess what, he's still not over! The investigation, not the murder, he's very much over that.
"Let's go by the Lounge, I want to see if Raylan thought to get any scumble from that port."
"Scumble isn't moonshine- if anything it's closer to cider, it's bloody apples. Well, mostly apples," he adds with a stupid little grin. "And I honestly think even you would have difficulty recovering from it, even if you think it's some god-awful peasant shit."
He's aware this is now turning into some horrible enabling, but it's nice to be able to make some small amends and still be friends with Dorian.
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"Honestly, the biggest surprise is that you haven't punched me in the face before now. I'm not...it would have happened eventually. I'm good at hurting people and not good at lasting relationships."
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Not that he likes what he hears, but it's still a kind of progress. So he's calm when he replies.
"You make it sound like you come into a relationship expecting to fuck it up. That it's just, like. A matter of time. Inevitable."
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"Look, I'm not gonna be trite and accuse you of not trying, when you're in one, but it seems an awful lot like you take relationships for granted, what with staring at the rug the entire time to see when it gets pulled out from under you."
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"That's even more depressing than supposedly taking them for granted."
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"And we're circling back to the point of how I'm a coward. I know what Jon's plans are when he leaves the ship. He's going to spend his time traveling and visiting everybody, bothering the friends he made here. And I know I can't do that. I'd much rather leave on a high note then spend the next few decades watching all my friends slowly age and die."
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"Yes, because he was telling you in his incredibly obtuse way that he would like you to come with him. You're not him, Dorian, you must have picked up on that!" He wants to shake the pair of you, he literally told you to use your words!! "At this point it's not even you being a coward, it's literally just you trying to orchestrate the relationship and cracking a wobbly because Jon's not playing along to the script!"
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He huffs, rolling his eyes before, "It's not orchestrating the relationship, it's thinking that the other person knows you well enough so that you don't have to outright say it. If Jon wanted me to come with him, he should have told me himself. Instead, he's doing what you just accused me of."
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Yes. Yes, that's what he's saying.
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Cups both hands over his face. Drags them down as he inhales, deeply so he can press his hands together in front of and against his mouth like a prayer, even looking skywards for a moment.
And then points both hands at Dorian.
"I am," he says, with a voice of unsettling calm, "This close to punching you again."
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Christ.
Whoops.
"I'll ring Jon up so we can have a conversation sometime this week."
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Though there's no need for words as he pulls his own packet out of his pocket, keeping one cigarette for himself before he just offers the box to Dorian to replenish his clearly suffering supplies.
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Hopefully he can understand that little unspoken communication.
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"If you're sick of my voice and want me to fuck off, I can if you want," he says, gentle and somewhat wry. "But I get how rough comas are. And the bullshit Misty's pulling is fucking insane, so. If you wanted some company for a drink about it..."
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"She barricaded his fucking body in her room. I got the impression that if she had the opportunity, she'd happily sell tickets. So yes, I'd love a drink and some company."
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"Let's go by the Lounge, I want to see if Raylan thought to get any scumble from that port."
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Dorian is also going to follow Tim as they leave the room and head to the Lounge. Booze is good. Yay booze.
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He's aware this is now turning into some horrible enabling, but it's nice to be able to make some small amends and still be friends with Dorian.
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"If I try your horrible apple mash, I'm at least going to have a classic g&t as well to remove the inevitable aftertaste."