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

[brushoff]

"I just put the lease down on that shiny new apartment of mine," Dorian lightly teases, wide grin on his face. There's a moment before he continues, a bit more serious now,

"We'll bring the important things over. But until this cult is dealt with, a place of my own without any connection to any vampires could prove useful."

[loveisall]

"I know," he reminds him. "Because I own the building. But you still need to keep clothes here."

It's all logistics. Nothing more than that. Certainly not because Godric wants him around.

[brushoff]

"That I can do," Dorian nods. "I'll bring them over tomorrow—though I do hope you have enough space."

Godric probably does. Really, the man probably doesn't have much in the way of clothing for himself to begin with.

[loveisall]

He sighs, but it's fond and warm. Tolerant.

"The closet is yours," he assures him. "Now go try and rest. I can drain your blood if that helps."

Which is a sincere offer, as always.

[brushoff]

Dorian lets out a small little chuckle before pointing out, "If you drain my blood, it'll just get me wound up for the rest of the night."

Because yeah, that turns Dorian on.

"Tomorrow you can have a little snack and I can have a little fun. I'll need to rest a bit before poking around in the daylight hours."

Dorian gives Godric a little nod before heading back to their bedroom. He is very much going to pass the fuck out. Granted, if Godric passes the fuck out next to him, Dorian is more than happy to cuddle the vampire.

[loveisall]

Godric rolls his eyes and lets Dorian go. He needs to see to the repairs. But he does turn in early, a few hours before dawn, just to drape himself around Dorian and cuddle up against him.

It's become dangerous, the amount that he feels for this immortal idiot.

[brushoff]

In his sleep, Dorian can feel when Godric lies next to him. Unintentionally, he reaches over to pull the man close, subconsciously cuddling with this vampire that he never wants to let go.

But, eventually he wakes up. And it's early for Dorian—10am! He stretches, gets to his feet, puts on his cutest Gucci shirt, and starts a long day of poking around Texas, trying to find out more information about this damn cult.

[loveisall]

He will find out that the cult has already branched out to various different sects. The leader they killed was simply the head of a sect. He was the one close by. But there are several more, like the heads of a hydra, just waiting to strike in the darkness.

He manages to get a few addresses. No leaders, but more leads, by the time it gets dark and his phone rings.

[brushoff]

Fucking Christ. He's going to have to do more work to sort this all out, isn't he. The question now is, which lead should he chase down first. Which of these limbs is the most vital, the most powerful.

He's thinking all of that when the phone rings, jolting him out of his thoughts. Dorian very loudly swears before he picks up the phone. It's probably Godric—it's dark, after all, the vampire is probably wondering where he is. So Dorian answers with a cheerful,

"Dorian here, I do hope you've got something interesting for me."

[loveisall]

"I don't, and I hope you weren't expecting anything vulgar," he drawls easily, sitting up from where he's been lying in bed. "I didn't expect you to still be out."

[brushoff]

"I always expect vulgarity," Dorian grins. "What's the alternative, someone being prudish? Bo~ring!"

He starts to head back towards the apartment, chatting all the while. "Our problem has grown a bit bigger than either of us expected. I was simply getting the scope of the land."

[loveisall]

Godric sighs a little. "I was afraid of that answer. They've spread, haven't they?"

Like a virus. Like an infestation. He finds himself returning to old ways of thinking, of seeing humans as nothing but vermin.

[brushoff]

"Indeed they have," Dorian sighs. "It will take a while to root them out, but root them out we shall. I don't want to let this cult live."

Not while it has the chance to harm Godric. Not now, not ever.

[loveisall]

"Are you coming back here?" he wonders, sitting down on the couch. "We can plan better that way."

Also, Godric really hates phones.

[brushoff]

"I'm on my way," he laughs. "So don't worry, old man. You'll see me soon enough."

[loveisall]

"The door is unlocked," he says. Who else is going to infiltrate his nest? Who even could, at night, when the vampires are awake and alert?

[brushoff]

"Then I'll see you in five."

It's more like ten minutes when Dorian arrives back at Godric's. He enters inside, locking the door behind him. Godric might have the chutzpah of an alert vampire, but Dorian has the slight paranoia of a man who's cursed portrait has been stolen multiple times. He makes his way up to their bedroom and opens the door.

"Honey, I'm home!" Though don't mind Dorian as he dramatically flops down on the bed upon entering the room. Somebody's had a busy day!

[loveisall]

Godric's writing a letter at his desk when Dorian walks in. He doesn't look up when he flops on the bed, either. He just signs his name with a sigh.

"Do you have any leads?"

[brushoff]

"A few," Dorian idly remarks. "One of the branches is local enough that I can deal with them myself. One of them, we might have to make a roadtrip for. Where the fuck is Waco?"

All Dorian knows about that is the Branch Davidians. Sorry Texans!

[loveisall]

He makes a face.

"Two hours south by car," he says with a huff. "How cliche."

[brushoff]

"Road trip," Dorian dryly responds. He's not that excited about a road trip but it's hardly like they have any other options. "Shall I be the one to drive?"

[loveisall]

He laughs. "Yes, of course. I can't drive. I never learned."

[brushoff]

"What, really?"

That's a new and interesting fact. Dorian wrinkles his nose slightly before pointing out,

"I'm old enough that cars weren't around in my youth but I still learned how to drive. I needed a license for my Vespa."

Granted, he learned how to drive before the 1960s, but that Vespa was very important, dammit.

[loveisall]

"I have no desire to drive," he says, standing up and gathering his clothes. "I never wanted to learn. I never - well, I never thought it would matter. I have a driver."

He takes off his shirt and replaces it with another of the same cream color.

"Now, I have you."

[brushoff]

"You do have me. And I'll introduce such wonderful things into your life like road trips, the joy of a good car, and a splash of color in your wardrobe."

Because he sees that cream shirt, buddy.

"I think a deep purple would go very well with your complexion."