WHO Dorian Storm and Orym WHERE A room at the Rutherford Hotel WHEN Late night, after prom on May 11 WHAT Orym surprises Dorian with a romantic night to themselves and they have a conversation about how much they appreciate each other. STATUS Complete ART CREDITHere WARNINGS Smooches + criminal heights of schmoop and sap
As the prom event for the youth center got nearer, Orym had been keeping an eye on Dorian. That was no different than the usual, as his natural perceptiveness had him keeping an eye on all of his loved ones, but he gave extra attention to his boyfriend. It wasn't much of a chore, really, but was born out of more than just a desire to ogle--well, it wasn't just. He knew that the planning of such events could be stressful, though, and one of the duties that he took seriously as a partner was to try to alleviate stressors whenever he could. Sometimes that wasn't always possible as he knew how deep Dorian's anxiety could run, but if he could help, if he could carry something on his slight little halfling shoulders, Orym was going to.
It wasn't quite so straightforward in this sort of situation, of course. Orym could only take on a finite amount with his own job taking up his own time, but he nevertheless hatched a plan.
Before he needed to get ready for the event, Orym had made the trek to the hotel it was taking place with a suitcase that he had sneakily packed with the aid of a distraction put on by their housemates. Inside was a change of clothes for the following day, as well as something particularly comfortable for later on in the night. He had been living with and observing Dorian's habits and preferences long enough to feel fairly confident that he'd packed well, while also stowing away some snacks (pie, among other offerings), a nice bottle of wine that Ashton had suggested, a few candles for ambiance, and even some beauty products that he knew Dorian used at night. The room didn't offer spa services, but Orym was doing his best to give Dorian the option of an at-home spa experience, if he wanted.
Once he had spent some time unpacking some of the items in the comfortably sized room, getting everything situated for that night, Orym headed back home as though nothing had happened at all. He'd gotten ready, offered his hand to Dorian's as they left, and then did his best to enjoy the evening, all while keeping a careful eye on his boyfriend, just in case.
Eventually, the night came to a close, with the guests having largely left the space, the band packing up, and hotel staff starting the process of taking down the decor and resetting the area. Orym waited patiently as Dorian wrapped up any youth center business he needed to be a part of, then smiled warmly while holding out a hand. "I have a surprise for you."
Dorian loved these events. Despite the anxiousness of it all, or the chaos that ensued leading up to the evening, there was something warming about the thought of helping. It's why he enjoyed the youth center work so much. Not that being a bard was bad or unfulfilling, but charity events scratched an itch Dorian didn't know needed to be scratched. And if the trade off was having to feel like his brain was a discombobulated mess for a few weeks, so what?
That meant that whatever Orym wanted to do, surprise or not, tended to be completely off Dorian's radar. He didn't think anything of the extra chattiness of their housemates. Or the way Orym would briefly scurry around their room or dip off before the event. Dorian was spending so much time making sure that he looked all right, and that his lute was in tune, and that he mentally remembered everything that was supposed be done before, during, and after that he didn't notice. Maybe it was for the best.
By the time the Adult Prom was over, Dorian realized that all the stress—natural, normal stress, not the kind brought on by his boss and his fiance—had exhausted him. He was ready to collapse on the floor in the middle of the ballroom, but seeing Orym was enough to rally. His feet moved quickly toward his boyfriend, magnetized by that outstretched hand.
"Hm?" Dorian asked, more like made a noise. He wasn't sure he heard Orym correctly. He took his hand anyway. "A surprise?" Did Dorian miss something? Maybe several somethings?
Orym looked up at Dorian, letting their fingers weave together as he stepped forward to close their distance. "A surprise," he confirmed. He lifted their joined hands, brushing his lips over Dorian's knuckles, not giving much care to any stragglers around that might witness the exchange of affection; Orym had never been all that shy about people seeing just how much he cared about Dorian. Their hands dropped again as he added, "A good one, too. At least, I hope so."
At that, Orym began to fish around in the pocket of his trousers. "I know how hard you've been working on all of this—" He motioned with their still joined hands, indicating the room around them, as he pulled out the hotel room key that he'd had stashed away in his pocket. "So I thought that maybe you could use a night away from home to relax, just the two of us."
Despite having no real reason to worry, a flutter of it still made itself known in the back of Orym's mind. What if he had overstepped? Should he have asked Dorian first before making these plans? He did his best to push past it, offering both a hesitant smile and the key itself to Dorian. "If you're done here, the room is waiting for us upstairs."
Did Dorian drink? He thought, maybe, a little. Something celebratory, but not heavily. His fingers tended to get clumsy on instruments—much like anyone's would—with lots of alcohol in his system. But that was the only explanation as to why the words weren't computing. Orym was saying things like working so hard and hotel room and relax. And Dorian dumbly started nodding, then nodding again because saying no wasn't an option.
He wanted it so badly, and to say so. But his tongue was thick in his throat, trying to form something cohesive together. That could be blamed solely on the long night.
Instead, Dorian dipped down to steal a kiss from Orym as a thank you, yes, because his brain was still turning back on, reshifting its focus that wasn't the gala. But now Dorian was zoning in on his very sweet, very kind, incredibly thoughtful boyfriend. "I would like that, just, so much, Orym," Dorian said. And good, those were words. He could use them. He tried for more.
"You didn't have to." Not better words, but ones to show his modesty and appreciation for the way Orym went out of the way for him. Orym was always doing that, and even though Dorian knew their relationship was not transactional, he wanted to do more for Orym as well. He would figure out, just not tonight. Surprise him with a surprise. "But I absolutely want to be in something more comfortable and preferably with you doing the same. Lead the way?"
Despite that they had exchanged hundreds, if not thousands, of kisses over the duration of their relationship, this one brought a pleased little flush to Orym's cheeks and the tips of his ears. Though the decision to book the room was largely altruistic and he had been thinking of Dorian's well-being first, there was still a little thrill at knowing that his brief bout of worry had been as unecessary as he'd tried to tell himself and that he'd done well in this.
"I didn't have to," Orym agreed, squeezing his fingers gently around Dorian's once, "but I wanted to." He smiled again, this time more along the lines of a conspiratorial grin, as he teased, "I benefit from this, too."
Orym then stepped back and turned, pulling Dorian alongside him by the hand. It didn't take long to navigate through the grand looking hotel, finding the elevators, and then the room itself. He opened the door with a wave of the key—much more efficient and high-tech than any inn or tavern room they might have rented back in Exandria—and stepped inside, holding the door for Dorian to follow.
Rather than flip the switch to turn on any overhead lighting, Orym's hands did the largely familiar, with the exception of a few twists of his fingers, somatic movements of Druidcraft to instantly light the candles that he had strategically placed around the room. It left the room in a warm glow, though there would always be the lamps to turn on should either of them need the added light. It illuminated the room enough, though, to highlight the additions that Orym had brought earlier.
Pausing to make sure the door closed fully and that the lock was securely in place, Orym moved further into the space and cleared his throat a bit bashfully. He motioned toward the suitcase, which was open and showcasing the intermingling of both their clothes that Orym had packed. "I brought you a few things to pick from that I thought you're most comfy in. If I missed the mark, though, this seems like the kind of place that gives you a fancy robe, if we look around more."
Dorian followed in a daze. It was nice to take away some of the decision making—even if the decision making was just walking, and taking the elevator, and lead into a hotel room—and allow Orym to take care of him for a little bit. Or a lot a bit, because when the candles flickered to life, Dorian's whole expression went impossibly softer.
"You did all this?" Dorian asked, even though he knew the answer. The suitcase was a prime example of knowing someone so acutely that he could pack a whole evening's worth of clothing and then some. Just to make sure Dorian was comfortable, warm, loved. Again, Dorian didn't think he was drunk. In fact, he's starting to think he has no alcohol in him all. Just the overwhelming feeling of Orym taking care of him was making his chest and mind do happy little somersaults.
"I can't believe you—" He didn't sound mad, just endlessly fond, as he scooped up Orym in his arms so that they could kiss more appropriately. Even if this was all they did tonight, Dorian would be happy. He assumed that would not be the case because what a waste of a hotel room, but that was what he was feeling. Happy and illogical. "It's perfect, really, Orym," Dorian said between kisses. "And you have been so, so, gosh I don't know how I deserve you sometimes. How did I get so lucky?"
A beat passed, then Dorian added, "Don't answer that. I don't want to know. Ignorance is bliss or something."
"I ask myself that all of the time," Orym said, punctuating the statement with another kiss—before abruptly pulling back with a soft laugh. "I ask myself how I'm so lucky, I mean."
Because he really did, often. Orym's entire life, even before he came to Vallo, had twists and turns that he'd have never predicted. Despite having spent so many years wandering Tal'Dorei and having met plenty of people, none of them had changed his path quite so thoroughly as the Crown Keepers, then Bells Hells. Life was far from sublime back there, but he'd made connections that he felt nothing but luck over to have in his life.
Dorian, though, was a whole other level of luck. And the fact that Dorian was the one to feel lucky between the two of them was evidence enough, Orym thought.
"But I'm okay with blissful ignorance, in this one case," Orym continued, his arms having settled comfortably enough about Dorian's shoulders as he was held that he could let his fingers card into long, ombre hair and make slow, gentle circles at the back of Dorian's neck. "I won't argue too much with the universe if it brought me you." He stole another kiss, right at the corner of Dorian's mouth, before adding, "I hope that was romantic and not cheesy."
Dorian was blushing. It might have been cheesy, but Dorian liked it. He liked the stereotypical romance, the slight cringe of it all. Not only because he was a little cringe himself, but because nothing else in their life was normal under any circumstance. And if the one thing that managed to be familiar and kind was their love and their relationship? Dorian would take it all. He liked that butterfly-in-his-stomach feeling when it came to Orym. He knew how to manage it unlike the surprises their life brought.
He hummed at the kiss to the corner of his mouth and the fingers playing with his hair. It was all so soothing, the heaviness of the night disappearing under Orym's ministrations. This was what he needed, this was who he wanted. "I really want to enjoy this room, but all I also really want is to spend a lot of time just kissing you," Dorian said as he shuffle-walked them to the bed.
In one moment they were upright, the next horizontal, pressing Orym into the mattress, and Dorian's long hair fanning around them like a protective curtain. "If you don't mind?" Because Orym had gone out of his way to set it up, and Dorian didn't want to take away from all of his own planning. He added for good measure, "We can do it out of order? I don't know if you planned this part for later but—" Dorian kissed Orym's mouth, his chin, his neck, then his temple, back to his mouth. "I do eventually want to see everything you did without me knowing."
Orym hummed himself in return, his gaze a bit heavy-lidded as he carefully shifted his head to allow for an easier path for Dorian and his kisses. In a practiced motion, Orym's hands moved to either side of Dorian's head, then gently parted the curtain of hair to tuck it gently behind pointed ears, careful of any piercings. He then held Dorian's handsome face, each thumb making a soft sweep over his cheekbones. It may have been putting a pause to the kissing, but Orym's eyes were roaming across Dorian, as perceptive and full of love as ever.
"This is for you, sweetheart." Though Orym's voice was most always on the calm and quiet side, this moment being no exception, there was a charge to this moment that hadn't escaped his tone. "You're in charge."
He brought Dorian in closer, but stopped just shy of a kiss to brush his nose against Dorian's, then his cheek. "I'm just grateful you don't mind that I was trying to be sneaky and for letting me take care of you." Now Orym kissed him, right on the lips. He took his time with it, before adding in a murmur, "You do so much for me and I know, I know—no debts between us." He thought briefly of that moment between them, in what felt like a lifetime ago. Back when Orym knew there was something brewing between them, but he wasn't ready to explore it.
Instead of focusing on that before time, though, he wanted to just enjoy the now. "It's just important to me, for you to know how loved and appreciated you are."
"I would never mind," Dorian said, though he stared off briefly to consider. Would more surprises be okay? Would Orym being sneaky not bother him? He didn't think it would be an issue, because Orym was not trying to give him a heart attack or kill him with said surprise. It was always out of care and concern: for his well-being and health and consideration of his feelings. Much like now, Dorian felt the need to tell Orym he was being too much, he didn't have to—but if he was surprised by it, Dorian couldn't stop Orym before it happened. It all made sense, and Dorian was pleased by his boyfriend going out of his way to realize how modest Dorian could be.
"But I know, of course I know. You make it impossible to forget and I love you for it," Dorian said, tipping his nose to brush against Orym's mirroring his move. "But I think we do so much for each other. Not just in gestures like this, though I do love gestures like this, it's a nice reminder. Not that I need reminders or anything, I would be content with or without them, but you know what I mean, right? You know what I mean." Dorian confirmed for himself.
"The things we do for each other are softer, kinder. Sometimes just being here is enough. Knowing that you're there at the end of the day is enough. Or feeling your hand in mind. You have no idea how much that means to me. Even if you think it's simple, it's so much more Orym. I swear it is."
Though the moments that Dorian described were simple, in the grand scheme of things, Orym understood how they were much more than that, too. In the immediacy after losing Will, those were the moments that he would daydream about most; waking up together, being carried to bed by strong arms after falling asleep on the couch after a long day, soft conversation over breakfast before they went their separate ways for work. The moments were soft, domestic, and exactly the same sort that he appreciated getting to now have with Dorian. For as different as Dorian and Will were in plenty of ways, there was a beautiful brand of romance that both relationships had in common when it came to how easily their lives had twined together.
"I know what you mean," Orym said, echoing Dorian—because he did know what he meant, both in regards to the contentment with the reminders and the depth of emotion tied to the simple moments that grew between them. "I like being able to give you gifts and grand gestures, but I'll always be there at the end of the day and the start of each morning and will always hold your hand."
It wasn't really a promise that Orym could make definitively; both of them knew how unpredictable life could be in general, but especially in Vallo. Still, he said it, because he believed it. Orym didn't make promises lightly, but in that moment with Dorian so close and his heart so warm with love, it came easily. He was a realist, but he was also a hopeful man. The latter won out in the moment.
"I love you, Dorian." He leaned up from where he had been placed amongst the comfortable pillows and blankets of the bed, giving Dorian a sound kiss. "Thank you for trusting me with your heart."
The exhaustion of the day seemed to wash away under Orym's words. Dorian was smiling brightly, his cheeks hurting with how big his grin had grown. There was very little that Orym could do—if anything at all—that would stop Dorian from feeling special. Wanted by him. It was, often at times, a little overwhelming in the best way.
"Thank you for trusting me with yours," Dorian said. And he meant it. Obviously, he meant it, but it would always be more than that. Orym had given his to Will and then lost Will, and Dorian knew a piece of Orym would always be with him. Any other person might not have the courage to do it again, knowing what that loss was like. But Orym did, and he chose Dorian of all people to trust with it again. He knew how precious their love was now.
He buried his face into Orym's neck, pleased and blissful, before his stomach rumbled. Grazing all night wasn't a meal, and only now his body was realizing the lack of food. "You didn't happen to bring pie did you?"
Half a moment of silence passed before Orym burst out into a laugh, easy and comfortable. It wasn't the fact that Dorian was hungry that made him laugh, so much as his explanation: "Dor, I brought so much pie."
Nudging him with his body and one arm, Orym coaxed Dorian into rolling over and off of him, a regrettable but necessary move if they were going to have pie. As strong as he was for his size, his strength barely compared to Dorian's, but he rewarded his boyfriend once their positions were reversed with another indulgent kiss.
"Pie in bed," Orym said with a grin as he moved to retrieve said dessert, "then more of that."