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"That's unfair, is what it is," Dariax said, tilting his pint in Dorian's direction. "Entirely rude. Uncalled for. Unacceptable." His words caught in his throat. He swallowed some of his ale down, hoping it would help. It didn't.
Orym's eyes followed the gesture over his own tankard, eyes almost hidden behind the absurdly large bulk of it. "Dorian?" he asked.
"Dorian!" Dariax confirmed. He gestured again, sloshing some ale down his sleeve. The tin illusion had faded before Orym and Opal had appeared, and he was back in his old outfit, fitting him much better and yet somehow less flatteringly than it had fit Dorian. "Dancing like that," he continued. "It shouldn't be allowed, one person taking up all the hot in the room like that."
Orym chuckled, but his eyes traveled around the room, assessing. "I wouldn't say he's taken up all the hot," he hedged. When Dariax slid his eyes over to him, his cheeks were faintly pink as he very pointedly looked into his ale instead of at anyone they knew.
Dariax filed away a little mental note to bring that up later, at an entirely inopportune time. Now, though, his eyes were drawn helplessly back to Dorian, as if he was generating his own gravity. He was moving gracefully, hips twisting in time to the rhythm of the music, eyes closed, head tilted upward, hair cascading down his back, feeling it. His outfit floated around him like it was made of clouds, glimmering as it reflected the lights of the festival, the bursting colors of the fireworks above them.
Opal shifted into his space, and he lit up, his face splitting into a grin as he propped an arm on her shoulder, letting her dance up against him. She had lost the tulle, and was dressed simply in her pink pants and crop top, her jacket discarded somewhere. Somehow, even back in her travel clothes, she still would have been identifiable from a mile off as the gem of the city.
Dariax watched them dance, enthralled, until he felt a bump against his shoulder. He turned to find Orym settled in on a bar stool far too tall for him, knocking a knee into Dariax.
"You should go dance with them," he said.
"I should, shouldn't I?" Dariax asked. He looked down at himself, clutching the edges of the cape, and he pictured Tharla Starr striding out into the crush of bodies, working her magic on the dance floor. He lifted the cape, preparing to twirl around, when he heard Dorian's voice calling across the crowd.
"Dariax!" He lifted a glass over his head, as if he needed to signal where they were, as if Dariax's eyes hadn't been on him since the music started. "Come dance with us!"
Dariax looked down at himself, then back up at Dorian. Dorian's hand was outstretched, beckoning him, his other arm still around Opal. Behind Opal, Fearne had appeared, dancing to an entirely different rhythm than everyone else in the crowd. Dariax felt his face split into a grin, and he dropped the edges of the cloak.
He fished a few lengths of ribbon out of the pocket and spun around, swirling them expertly around him. He looked up to find Orym looking down at him, the edges of his eyes crinkling up in a smile. Dariax nodded his head toward the others. "You coming?" he asked.
Orym laughed. "Nope," he said succinctly. "Have fun." He saluted the others with his tankard, and Dorian toasted him back, sloshing some wine out onto his fingers.
Dariax shouldered his way through the crowd, emerging opposite Fearne, twirling the ribbons around himself.
"Hey." The grin that Dorian gave him was wide and uninhibited, and Dariax couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dorian's lips and throat as he licked the wine from his hand and tilted back his head to take a long drink.
"Hi," Dariax replied, voice squeaking a little. This close, the sheerness of Dorian's outfit hid very little, and Dariax felt his eyes go wide as they traveled over the exposed expanses of Dorian's skin.
Dorian dropped his arm from Opal's shoulders and looped the other one around Dariax, pulling him close to his side. He fit there smoothly, their bodies finding an easy rhythm, the ribbons seeming to float weightlessly around them like the sheer fabric of Dorian's clothes. Across from them, Fearne's arms looped around Opal's waist, and Opal beamed, letting her head tilt against Fearne's tall shoulder, looking utterly in her element.
"It has been a long time since I've danced like this," she said, sounding delighted. She leaned back, looping an arm around Fearne's neck, and closed her eyes.
"I – " Dorian shifted his eyes between them before admitting, "I never have."
"No," Dariax said, narrowing his eyes up at him. "No way. Not a chance. You have absolutely done this before."
Dorian shrugged. "Not a lot of this kind of dancing where I'm from," he said. He tightened his grip on Dariax a little, his hips doing something utterly obscene as a grin split across his face. "I think I like it."
"You're a natural," Fearne told him sweetly as she swayed tunelessly behind Opal.
"No, come on," Dariax said, nudging against Dorian, trying to keep his mind on the conversation instead of the feeling of Dorian's body pressing all along his. "You absolutely know how to dance."
"Oh, I dance," Dorian agreed. "It's just not usually this…unstructured." The blue of his cheeks seemed a little darker when Dariax looked up at him.
Dariax wrinkled his nose. "There's 'structured' dancing?" he asked. "That doesn't sound like much fun."
The smile Dorian gave him was positively wicked. "It can be," he said, his voice dropping low beneath the music.
Dariax felt a shiver go through him. "Yeah?" he said challengingly. "Show me."
Dorian laughed. "This music isn't exactly – " he began, and cut himself off, looking down at Dariax consideringly. Dariax didn't know what he saw there, but suddenly he was nodding. "Yeah," he said instead. "Okay." He reached to grasp Dariax's hands. "Try to keep up."
Before Dariax could even get his feet under him, get adjusted to the feeling of Dorian's hands closing around his, their bodies pressing together, Dorian was twirling him off into the crowd, long strides cutting a path for them as he swept Dariax through the townspeople. The crowd parted gleefully, starting to clap along to the music, leaving a space for Dorian to whirl Dariax around in dizzying patterns, Dariax's feet stumbling to keep up. He kept his hands tight in a death grip around Dorian's, letting him haul him through the movements, graceful enough to make up for every one of Dariax's missteps.
The dance ended with a flourish, with Dorian kneeling to dip Dariax back over his knee, and Dariax found himself panting, gasping up into Dorian's face, imagining exactly what it would feel and taste like to press his own mouth to those lips, faintly salty from the sweat gathering on his skin, cool and soft, seeking, wanting –
He let out a gust of breath, going limp in Dorian's arms, staring up at him with wild eyes.
That wasn't a fantasy. That was a memory.
He stumbled back, falling out of Dorian's grasp, tumbling to the ground beside him, and the applause that had erupted in the crowd trickled off into a peal of laughter. He barely heard it as he scrambled away, pushing through the crowd, back to the bar. Orym was still sitting at the far end, Fy'ra now perched by his side, both of them scanning the crowd with matching expressions, drinks clutched in their hands. Dariax veered toward the other end, away from them.
"Another," he gasped out helplessly to the bartender, not looking over his shoulder, not wanting to think too hard about if he'd prefer to find Dorian following him or not.
"Ah, this one's on me!" he heard from beside him, and turned to find Cinna Brightbow perched on a barstool as if it were her throne, looking down at him with gleeful eyes.
"Oh. Um," he said uncomfortably, "I'm kinda busy right now…" he began, but she waved him off.
"So'm I, my friend," she assured him, and when he glanced past her, he could see a bearded human and a muscley gnome of indeterminate gender eyeing him suspiciously from around her. "But enjoy the drink, would you?" She winked at him. "And give my regards to that blue prince of yours. Quite the show you just put on. Shouldn't have saved that until after the pageant."
He felt his cheeks heat up, but he accepted the drink from the bartender gratefully, toasting Cinna with it before gulping the ale down furiously, trying to drown out the remembered taste of Dorian's lips against his.
"Thanks," he choked out when he surfaced.
She beamed down at him. "Oh, look," she said, raising her eyes behind him. "Here he is, now. Hello, beautiful."
"Shit." Dariax turned in time to see Dorian freeze, look behind him, and turn back to Cinna, pointing to himself with a raised eyebrow. "She means you," Dariax said.
"I thought she – " Dorian said, and looked helplessly between Dariax and Cinna.
"Oh, I've got the skills to admire two pretty boys at once," she assured him.
Dariax sighed, reaching out to loop his fingers into Dorian's. "Come on," he said. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do this, and we're not gonna do it here." He raised his glass to Cinna again. "Thanks for the drink," he said as he whisked Dorian off into the crowd.
"Have fun!" Cinna's voice called out after them.
Dariax wheeled them through the crowd until they reached the edge of it, the patio of a pub that was apparently conducting business elsewhere for the night, and was dim and quiet beyond the edges of the festival. He dropped Dorian's hand and slumped down onto one of the benches, tilting his tankard back to gulp from it.
"I'm sorry," Dorian said uncomfortably, not taking the seat beside him, instead hovering awkwardly with his hip propped against the table. "I probably should have asked you if you wanted to dance…"
"It wasn't the dance!" Dariax burst out. He slammed the drink onto the table beside Dorian, making Dorian wince.
"Whatever it was," Dorian said mildly, "I'm sorry."
Dariax looked up at him steadily. "How long have you been lying to me?"
Dorian choked. "I…" he said weakly.
"You know," Dariax said, feeling his voice take on a dangerous tone but unable to stop it, "that I don't like people lying to me."
Dorian deflated. He collapsed onto the bench beside Dariax. "I'm sorry," he said, burying his face into his hands. "It's just a stage name. I gave it to you because I panicked, and then it just kind of stuck, but – " he raised his head, looking at Dariax earnestly. "I don't know, I think Dorian Storm might be more the person that I want to be than – " he choked off the rest of the sentence. "Than the person I used to be ever was." He sighed deeply. "I'm sorry," he said, "about lying to you. I am. It's just…it was all tied up in family stuff, and things are complicated enough right now without bringing all of that into – " he gestured to the sling at Dariax's side, " – all of this. That's all. It was never meant to be a lie." He met Dariax's eyes, looking utterly miserable. "I understand if it means you can't trust me anymore, though. That would be fair."
Dariax blinked at him. "Oh," he said weakly. "Dorian's…a stage name?"
Dorian blinked back. "Wait, what are you talking about?"
"You kissed me!" Dariax said. "Or maybe I kissed you. I don't remember. But you do! And you didn't tell me."
"Oh!" Dorian's eyes went wide, followed by his expression scrolling through a seeming endless cascade of emotions before settling on apprehension. "Uh. You kissed me." He swallowed. "The first time. Then I kissed you. A few times." He lifted a hand to scrub at the back of his neck. "Kind of a lot, actually." His cheeks were stained a deep blue when his eyes met Dariax's again. "I thought you were too drunk to remember."
"I was," Dariax said. "Until right now." He looked back toward the lights of the festival echoing down the street, the music playing faintly in the distance. "We danced, and…" He felt his brow furrowing, trying to think. "I think seeing you that close..."
"Oh." Dorian raked his hand back through his hair. "Since the townhouse." Dariax stared at him. "Is how long I've been lying to you," he clarified.
"That was…" Dariax stared some more. "That was like a month ago."
Dorian nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. His face was still flushed, eyes still darting everywhere but at Dariax. "I thought maybe you made a mistake or something. We all do stuff when we're drunk that we – "
"A mistake?" Dariax cut him off, voice rising. "Kissing you?"
Dorian shrugged. "Yeah," he said simply.
Dariax narrowed his eyes at him. "Dorian," he said, leaning forward. "You get that you're hot, right? Like, it's important to me to know that you get that."
"I…" Dorian brushed a hand over the fabric of his pants. "I do," he said with a small smile. "But I'm not used to those things being related, necessarily." Dariax tilted his head, waiting for him to continue. "Hotness and kissing, I mean. Everything's a lot more…casual out here in the world than it is where I'm from. Courting tends to be more…well, structured, there. Like the dancing. I haven't had much experience in kissing people just because I want to." He played with the fabric, running his fingers over the shining threads of it. "I felt hot," he said finally. "In this, tonight. I thought I looked good." His eyes were a little wide and searching as they finally met Dariax's. "Did I?"
Dariax surged forward and kissed him.
He'd been planning to say something, trying to come up with words to express how incandescent Dorian had looked on the dance floor, but the uncertainty in Dorian's expression broke him, and he burst into Dorian's space, cupping his face in his hands, feeling the rough stubble of a few days on the road under his fingers as he pressed their lips together.
He felt and tasted exactly as Dariax was just starting to remember. His lips were cool, faintly salty, so soft and responsive, his fingers closing around Dariax's biceps, holding him close, letting his head tilt to the side to deepen the kiss, to run his tongue along Dariax's lower lip and drag a helpless groan out of him.
Dariax reached up to let his fingers sink into Dorian's hair, and they kissed there in the darkness, the music and revelry of the festival fading around them as they lost themselves in the feel of each other. Dorian was gasping for breath when they finally pulled apart, looking uncommonly disheveled, and Dariax felt a tiny surge of triumph before Dorian's hands skimmed down his arms, tangling their fingers together, dragging Dariax dazedly to his feet.
"C'mon," Dorian said. "I want to dance with you."
Dariax coughed out a breathless laugh. "Isn't that what got us here in the first place?" he asked. "I want to do more of this."
Dorian beamed back. "Later," he promised, and tugged Dariax back toward the festival.
Dariax let him.
The dance floor was less crowded now, some of the dancers having filtered off toward the stalls and bars to eat or drink, but Opal and Fearne were still there, Opal dancing in Fy'ra's space and receiving a blank stare in return, Fearne clutching Orym's hands and trying to drag him into an offbeat dance that only she seemed to know. Dariax let Dorian haul him up to them, and he felt all the breath leave him once again as Dorian started dancing against him, his hips twisting in an impossibly filthy rhythm, one of his hands on Dariax's shoulder, the other lifted into the air, feeling the music around them.
Dariax looked past him to see Fy'ra smirking in their direction over Opal's shoulder, Fearne and Orym still utterly distracted by their strange dance. Dariax shrugged helplessly at her before directing his attention back to Dorian, letting his hands reach up for his waist and pull him closer, trying to match his movements but just ending up kind of rolling his hips against his leg.
When Dorian finally let his head drop down, his eyes fluttering open, they were wide and dark with interest, and his fingers tightened on Dariax's skin through his clothes, dragging him impossibly closer.
They danced like that for a long while, moving together to the music among their friends, and eventually, finally, Dariax reached up to loop a hand around Dorian's neck, tugging him downward. Dorian leaned in, expecting a kiss. Instead, Dariax tilted his head to the side, pressing his lips to Dorian's ear. He spoke just loud enough to be heard over the music, lips brushing against the soft cool skin there, and he felt Dorian go still in response.
"So," he said. "What's your name?"