dorian & godric

[brushoff]

Christ, how Dorian hated Texas.

It was the best and worst of America. There still was so much space, plenty of towns barely hanging on, hardscrabble little places that were trying to make their move, the drive and determination and chutzpah that Dorian adored of the America in the past. America in the 1920s was great. A feisty nation, determined to prove itself on the world's stage, bright and brilliant and ready to take on the challenge.

But the Texas cities? The cities were horrible. Large, ugly things almost crushed under the weight of their own self-importance and overpasses. Forgotten centers where all residents fled to cookie-cutter nigh identical houses set in towns created solely for the purpose of commuting. People didn't thrive in places like that, with their subdivisions and big box stores and fucking Targets. You lived there, but you didn't thrive. And Dorian Gray was always looking for something new, something bright and breathing and alive.

Granted, a shitty little dive bar wasn't exactly what most people thought of when they thought of 'alive.' But Dorian had been lingering around Dallas long enough that a few things had gained his interest. The coming out of the closet, so to speak, of vampires had been the big one. Idly, he wondered what Toby would have thought of it all—he felt so alone for so long. Would vampire advocacy groups or these cute little pamphlets have changed anything? Or would the Sunday morning cable news services about how all vampires are damned have made things worse? There's no way of knowing. But Dorian wanted to learn more about this himself.

Try as he may to fit in, it's obvious that Dorian is here for something. He flirts with the waitress and casually asks a few questions about vampire activity in the area. He loses a game of pool but presses his competition whenever they bring up 'fangs.' This is the third day in a row he's made some not-so-subtle inquiries about vampires, something's got to give eventually. He's British as hell, the accent is a dead giveaway, so might as well lean into the obviousness and see what happens.

And as he slips out of the back door of the dive bar, stepping outside to light up a cigarette, Dorian's certain that something will happen. What precisely? He doesn't know.

Comments

[loveisall]

Godric, this time, allows it. He stands up taller and drapes an arm around his neck, kissing him back, keeping it gentle and relaxed.

This is what he wanted.

[brushoff]

The moment Godric kisses back, Dorian relaxes. He adjusts his position so that he can wrap his arms around the vampire's waist, holding him close and pulling him tight. There's a moment before he murmurs,

"I'm trying, you know?"

And he goes to give Godric another kiss.

[loveisall]

"I know that now, yes," he says and brushes a hand past his jaw. "You are a fascinating creature, Dorian. I want to know every part of you. But I do not want to give you part of me unless I know you...want this, too."

[brushoff]

"I'm renting an apartment here," Dorian chuckles. "In America. I wouldn't have done that if I wasn't in this for the long run."

[loveisall]

He shakes his head. "You have enough money to throw around."

Godric brushes his fingers through Dorian's hair. "Tell me your secret."

[brushoff]

"True. But I have enough class not to make America my home base," Dorian lightly teases. "Not unless it's really worth it."

His secret, though...there's a part of him that doesn't want to tell Godric. That wants to hold close, that points out all the people who heard of his secret and then immediately tried to fuck him over. What if Godric's the same? Why should he trust him?

But it's a leap of faith. And it's one that Dorian knows he's going to have to take.

"My secret? I'm Dorian Gray. That Dorian Gray. I sold my soul for eternal youth and eternal beauty. My existence is tied to a cursed portrait of myself and I haven't aged a day since my twenties."

[loveisall]

Godric just stares at him, trying to figure out if he wants to believe him. All the evidence adds up, but he just doesn't see how it's possible. Literary characters don't come to life.

...or maybe they do. Or maybe he was never literary first.

"Did Oscar Wilde write a book about a person he knew, then?" he wonders.

[brushoff]

Dorian nods.

"Oscar and I were dear friends. Obviously a few of the details were changed. I'm not dead and, more importantly, I'm not blonde."

It's a bad attempt at a joke, but an attempt nonetheless.

"When he heard of my story, he decided to immortalize me in his own way."

[loveisall]

"I like your hir s it is," he says absently. "Do you miss him?"

[brushoff]

"Every day."

There are very few people who Dorian considers himself close to. Oscar was one of them.

[loveisall]

He takes his hand, his own fingers cool, and gently guides him back towards the bedroom. "Tell me about him."

[brushoff]

Dorian takes Godric's hand as they go to the bedroom. Dorian's bedroom is stark, minimalist, very clean except for the large and expensive bed in the middle of the room.

"Oscar was one of a kind. He was always so uniquely himself. He did not give a damn about convention and refused to bend to social norms. And God, he was funny! With some people, they're only funny when written down, when they have the time to think about what to say next. Oscar had such a quick wit, it was damn impressive."

There's a pause before Dorian continues. "He wasn't the same after the arrest. His time in jail didn't kill his spirit completely...but it did a damn good job of trying to do so."

[loveisall]

Godric sits on the edge of the bed and waits for Dorian. "I'm sorry," he says softly. "It sounds as if you loved him."

And that word means something to him.

[brushoff]

Dorian sits down next to Godric. His voice is calm and steady as he continues.

"He was one of my closest friends in the world. I saw him at his best and after the world had ground him to his worst. I still miss him."

[loveisall]

He lets the silence linger a while, then links their fingers. "Thank you for trusting me with your secret," he says. "I won't betray it. And I won't forget the sacrifice that it took to tell me."

[brushoff]

"Even if you do betray me, it won't be that easy to take me down," Dorian sighs, as he gives Godric's hand a light squeeze.

"The portrait is back in England. I'll need to move it over here, but I was initially planning on just staying for a week or so. No need to bring it for that short a time."

[loveisall]

Godric nods. "I can help you arrange it." He leans in to kiss him again. "Why is it that I am so drawn to you, Dorian Gray? Is it because you and I share a sadness?"

[brushoff]

Dorian indulges in the kiss before pulling away.

"I know why I'm drawn to you. You remind me of someone I loved. You're certainly different, of course. He was more childish than you. More callous. But that sadness, that stubbornness, I'm drawn to it like a moth to a flame."

And who knows. Maybe this time will be different.

[loveisall]

He's quiet for a while and then takes Dorian's hand and places it on his shoulder, along his back. "Do you feel that there?" he wonders. "The mark that is more like a burn."

[brushoff]

"I do."

And Dorian will leave his hand there, during what he assumes will be the next story.

[loveisall]

"I was bought by a vampire after my village was captured. He kept me as a house slave in his home in Rome. He branded me as his so I would never be able to escape. He did not see me as a fighter, a warrior. He saw only a boy who could play him songs and entertain his guests in whatever way they saw fit." He lowers his head. "He was a sadistic man, prone to indulgences in sick pleasures. He changed me so he could own me...which he did, for many years."

[brushoff]

Dorian looks a little sick as Godric tells his story. He adjusts his hand slightly, more that it's around Godric's waist, so he can pull the man in for an awkward little hug.

"That's horrifying. I'm sorry you had to endure that." A pause before, "How did you get away?"

[loveisall]

"I killed him. I fought against the Maker bond and tore his head from his body. I killed them all. The servants, the other slaves. The guests. And then I ran. I ran into the woods and I stayed there for weeks. Months. Covered in his blood."

He leans against him, accepting that warmth.

[brushoff]

"Good."

Godric might have reservations about killing everyone, but Dorian doesn't. Sometimes there is collateral damage. That's just how it works. It's terrible, but it is what it is.

"I'm glad the bastard's dead."

[loveisall]

He turns and draws him into a kiss again. "Yes. And i stayed angry with him for thousands of years. Let it color me. But no longer."