glasdocka
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The first time Dorian laid his eyes on him, he wasn’t even sure what gender he was - he just knew that there was a gorgeous queen lip syncing the shit out I Will Survive on the stage in the club. Even if he’d given up his childhood notion of religion a long time ago, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was some divine intervention that led to him noticing her across the room - he was quite heavily intoxicated by the seemingly endless vodka sodas supplied by the gentleman sitting right next to him, and the weekly drag night at the Herald’s really wasn’t his top priority. But notice he did.
AKA - the drag AU no one asked for
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“It’s strange,” Dorian mumbled, his words almost getting lost in the wind. “I thought that I’d… I don’t know, I just thought that I would feel something more. Something profound and meaningful maybe. Instead, it just hurts.”
“Yeah, it does.” Mahanon said, walking up next to Dorian, settling his hand in the small of his back. “It hurts and hurts, and then you remember some of the happy memories, and then you hurt some more because you can never go back to how things were. But it’s important to keep the good memories as well.”