bakerstreet | alternate universe

[Alistair's response was an even shyer smile and an even deeper blush, but there was an undeniable happiness in his expression. Compliments were few and far between for him - compliments like that. He knew he was a good fighter, and he knew he did a good job shielding those fighting at his side from harm, but that sort of compliment was never really about him as a person. He had good skills. That was different.

But just being called remarkable? All the more reason to keep Dorian from harm in every single way he could.]

Thank you.

[And then, with a quiet laugh, he shook his head.] This really isn't the place for all this, is it? With the dank and the mud and the armour. I feel like if I tried to hug you, my breastplate would bruise your ribs or worse.

[And he couldn't have that. But out here, in this environment, he knew better than to take off much more of his armour than his boots. Who knew what could happen at any given time? They could need to fight five seconds from now, and without armour and weapons close at hand, they'd be sitting ducks for anything with half a mind. Well, not entirely - Dorian was still one hell of a mage, but Alistair would prefer neither of them risk fighting without some sort of protective clothing thrown on.

Which meant that gathering Dorian up into his arms would have to wait.]

( no matter how tender the moment, dorian doesn't expect more than this. whatever sort of thing is happening right now will stay in this maker forsaken bog. it won't come up again. that's just how his life goes. they'll be back in mixed company sooner rather than later, and this night will just be another casualty to add to his list. what alistair says is proof enough of that. all the more pity there's been no further contact than this. then again, at least when the snub comes he'll be expecting it and it won't hurt as much. he's been a fool, and will correct that as quickly as he can.

it doesn't cross his mind that he might be a little too dramatic in damning this before it has a chance. past dictates the present, as far as he's concerned.

but, he doesn't let it show. that's an amateur mistake. and, when it comes to things like this dorian is no amateur. so, he smiles in a good natured sort of way. laughs. it's all very natural as he shifts to lay on his back and withdraws his hand. that arm drapes over his eyes instead. )

I don't think this is the place for anything. You have seen it, haven't you? Even the undead don't want to stay.

[Natural it might've been, but it meant that he didn't see the hurt confusion on Alistair's face. He'd thought it was all right. He'd thought--

He wasn't really sure what he'd thought, but something hadn't gone right. He leaned up onto his side, starting to reach toward Dorian's hand again, but he stopped himself, fingers curling in toward his palm. Should he?]

Did I-- I mean... [Again, he stopped himself. There was a safe assumption to make, and so he made it.] I did something wrong, didn't I. --I... Oh, I--

[The realisation came at last, and he withdrew his arm, sitting up and shaking his head at himself. He should've known better. After all, Dorian was Dorian, made of charm and wit, and likely had people eating out of his hand back in Tevinter. He knew that, compared, the south was more than rustic, and he was just one of the rustics the south had borne and bred, no matter his lineage. Oh, foolish Alistair. He'd learn eventually]

I'm sorry. I- I didn't understand, did I. Went a little too far. My apologies; I won't, um. I'll let it go. Nothing to worry about.

[Better now than later, he told himself, and set about busying his hands so he wouldn't linger over it for too long. Were his socks dry enough? ...Close enough, he decided, as he started to pull them back on.]

I'll take watch so you can rest.

( curse it all.

it says something about dorian's own assumptions that he didn't think anything would happen from what he said. typical. he speaks often without thinking of what may happen afterward. then, things like this happen. not that he's going to change how he speaks, because that requires too much of an overhaul of his personality. but, he often wonders how easier his life would be if he just spoke his mind instead of hiding behind veiled words.

he suffers in silence. stomach clenched painfully and his teeth follow suit. dorian knows he should just let it go. there's nothing here. he'll just get hurt. alistair doesn't really care. he's lonely. dorian's just a body. he's always just a body. if he just lets it go, pretends that it is just a small misunderstanding...there won't be much trouble. alistair will get over the embarrassment. dorian will squash yet another disappointment down to join the others. it'll be fine.

but. )

There's no need to apologize.

( dorian feels the words form and come out before he can really think about it. this is mortifying on every level. not to mention it goes against every fiber of his being. it's a struggle against everything he's built around himself. )

You didn't go too far.

( now, dorian sits up. though at first he hesitates, he eventually lays his hand gently against alistair's arm. his tone is just a murmur. )

What is it you think you've done wrong?

[The smile he gives Dorian is one of those that says anything other than happiness. Regret, apology, sadness - and a hope to avoid pain. A little like a cringing dog, trying not to get hit again.]

Dorian - really, it's okay. I... I said too much. I got too personal, and we're... what, friends at best? And I started airing my past and ... let on a little too much.

[That he'd be more than happy to have Dorian spend the night wrapped up in his arms if he could just be sure he wouldn't hurt him - but that had been reason enough for Dorian to turn away and break the intimate moment that had hung between them for...

For long enough that Alistair had been fooled into thinking that maybe it was one he could hold on to. His own fault.

Dorian's hand on his arm really only made it worse. Like it was a mockery of what had been there before. Dorian trying to soothe hurt feelings. He really was a good person. A good friend, Alistair reminded himself, and he'd do well to keep that in mind. He'd keep the talk light from now on.

So he patted Dorian's hand in a way that said no harm done and started to stand.]

Go ahead and rest. I'll make sure nothing gets too close.

[After he said it, he realised the irony, and winced on his own behalf.]

...Not like that.

Edited (It's earlate and I flubbed a word.) 2018-02-12 10:39 (UTC)

( dorian knows he should let it go. he really, really does. because, there's no future here. there's nothing but heartache. and, he's had enough of that his entire life this far to not want anymore. but, something drives him to not let this go. stupidity, likely. dorian never said he was smart when it came to relationships. selfishness, because he's not as good of a person as alistair seems to think. he's going to have to do some fast talking to try and salvage this before it gets out of hand.

for a second his hand grips tighter against alistair's arm. soon after he thinks better of it. don't need further misunderstandings. a mage grabbing and holding on spells trouble to southerners. so, he lets it slowly fall away. )

Either you have misunderstood, or I have. Or both.

( he shifts into a more comfortable sitting position, but finds he can't really look at alistair. his heart is beating wild, and he feels as if he'll be sick any minute. a deep breath to straighten his posture. he stares at the fire, and feels a heat not from that warming his cheeks. )

If friendship is all you seek from me, so be it. I will give it unquestionably.

( this feels so stupid to say out loud. he feels stupid, and it shows in the way his voice gets lower. )

If there is more...you need to speak plainly. I'll not assume otherwise. Ever.

[For a few moments, it's all Alistair can do to stand still and think through what he's been told. Misunderstood? Maker knows it's possible. He's misunderstood a thousand things through his living years, and will misunderstand a million more, he's sure. But now he has to wonder if this is actually possible. If this, if Dorian... liking him is actually something that can happen in the blunder that makes up his life.

It's a time that feels like ages but is only a few heartbeats before, so carefully, he sits again, his back to the fire so he can look at Dorian without having to turn his head so far. So he can see firelight on olive skin and grey eyes.

And so he can watch Dorian's expression when he speaks.]

I like you.

[Simple words for a feeling so heavy.]

Probably too much.

When I look at you, there's nothing I want more than to wrap my arms around you and hold you for the rest of my days. I want to protect you from anyone who would even think about harming you. And, yes, I...

[His cheeks grow redder by the moment and, though it's hard, though his gaze slips away again and again, he keeps trying to meet Dorian's eyes.]

I do think you're beautiful. I'd love to kiss you and-- And learn about how we could fit together. But more than anything, I just... don't want to hurt you, or lose you, and I'm afraid that I've already done both.

( at first, it's only confusion in dorian's expression. so, he has misunderstood somewhere. or, maybe it's just easier to ruin a good thing before it starts. it's easier to get the hurt over with right away than allowing it to fester for too long. as hard as dorian finds it to face alistair, eventually he does. he can't hide forever. or let alistair shoulder the burden of emotion alone. that's not fair.

courage, dorian.

his hand lifts to touch alistair's face. keeps it gentle. his thumb moves in an arc from cheek to the corner of his mouth. )

This is the part where I'm meant to tell you I can protect myself, and don't need such a thing. But, I've always thought that a little silly. Everyone needs help sometimes.

( his hand moves down until he can lightly pinch alistair's chin between his fingers. then, he lets it fall away to settle in his lap. )

You haven't had me yet to lose anything. Trust that you'd find yourself devastated were that the case.

( shrugs. dorian's always gonna be dorian. can't be sorry for it.

before he can change his mind, he leans in to press a lingering kiss at the same corner of alistair's mouth his thumb was just at. )

When we return, I'd like to discuss this more. With as little armor as possible.

[It was real.

He didn't know what to think about it, really. It wasn't really inside his experience. He'd thought before that--

Well, it didn't matter. And he knew he should temper his hopes before he found himself horribly disappointed before anything even had a chance to start, but--

But it really had just been a misunderstanding. Dorian had kissed him. And they were still facing one another and Alistair felt like years of weight had been lifted from his shoulders, all because of the possibility.

He leaned in and placed a kiss of his own to Dorian's cheek, just above the line of his jaw.]

And with more than a few blankets. And at least ten pillows. After we've each had a chance to wash this damned bog off of us.

[Then he dared a grin - one that spread across his face like it belonged there.]

I'll really be cozying up to a Tevinter Altus then. And I'll be happy to do it.

( this is something too tender to be real. dorian wonders if he's actually fallen asleep, and somehow dreamed this up. nothing seems out of the ordinary. well, nothing more than the usual ridiculous affair that is the mire anyway. he still won't let himself be hopeful. expects everything to crumble at the first sight of the rest of the inquisition. but, for now he'll let himself have this. )

That sounds perfect.

( he shifts back a little more. pats the spot beside him. smiles in a gentle, yet alluring sort of way. )

For now, how about we get some rest?

( maybe he's a little impatient. not so much to have this be over. but, because he's anxious to leave this place behind. if things work out for the two of them, it's going to be bothersome that he'll have to hold this horrible place in some sort of regard. the struggle. )

I'm quite ready to put this place behind us for more than just one reason.

[The invitation, small as it was, was everything he wanted. Before he turned, Alistair leaned in, hand lifted to Dorian's cheek to keep him still enough to leave a soft, lingering kiss against his temple.] I promise to kiss you properly when we aren't surrounded by a bog.

[He was reluctant to move away at all, but he couldn't sleep sitting up, and he wanted to at least give a little closeness while he could. So he turned, took off his boots once more, and then laid down to offer Dorian his arm, if he wanted to take it. Yes, there was armour, but there were a few softer places as well, and he thought there could be some charm in sleeping in someone's armoured embrace. Though the idea was probably better than the reality.

But once they were settled, once they could rest, he did and gratefully so, already dreaming of the next time he'd have the chance to be so close.]

alternate universe

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Sorry for the delay; this weekend's been busy.

don't worry about it! it's all good! :)

Yay!

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