[Ethan's lips curl in agitation the next time Dorian speaks, not because he's arrogant enough to think Ethan doesn't hate those mind games as much as he says, but because Dorian is right. Ethan wished he could hate Dorian's little games fully but the truth is he just doesn't. He hates it even more that the more he looks at those soft, smirking lips, the more he wants to kiss them.

Not now, though. The man doesn't deserve that kind of passion or intimacy. Besides, Ethan's a little taken aback when he's actually served a rolled up flog on a platter. His eyes slide back over to Dorian, briefly, then back to the flog as he takes it from the platter, squeezing the handle and getting a feel for the weight as it unwinds onto the floor with a soft clap.]

Just one more. You should tell your friends to join us in your playroom if they want a proper show. [Ethan didn't spare them a single glance before he was already walking off to said room where countless other toys were hidden, not to mention a setup where Ethan could bind Dorian's wrists above his head and ankles to the floor.]

And bring the fucking absinthe. [He practically spits the words over his shoulder.]