#this is 7k words of chaotic fake dating ooops

[chaos-burst]

one way or another (i’m gonna get you)

Dorian has a problem.

That problem is currently drunk off his ass and trying to balance one of Opal’s daggers on the tip of his nose. Of course he’s failing miserably, hitting himself in the eye with the blunt end twice thus far and maybe Dorian shouldn’t chuckle about it, but Dariax just keeps trying as Opal and Fearne edge him on.

“If you’re not careful you’ll stab your own eye out”, Orym says. He’s still nursing the same beer he started drinking an hour ago, probably to stay sober enough to stop any shenanigans that go too far.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, buddy. That already happened to me, like, three times, and I just healed it back together. No big deal.”

Dorian can see that Orym is at a loss for words.

“Dorian, do you think I can do it?”, Dariax calls over to him where he’s sitting, holding his lute and enjoying the warm evening breeze.

“Sure, Dariax. I’ll write a song about you if you do”, he says with an amused smile. Dorian tries to keep his smile from widening as Dariax beams at him and tries even harder.

All his life Dorian has been taught to be proper and well behaved—maybe that is why he feels drawn towards—well. Towards the group. The group that Dariax is also a part of and that Dorian definitely doesn’t feel drawn towards more than any of the others.

He starts moving his fingers mindlessly over the strings of his lute as Dariax stumbles backwards, falls over Opal’s outstretched legs and lands in her lap with the dagger clattering to the ground in front of them.

Dorian thinks about Dariax sitting on his lap, then he almost chokes on his own spit because so far Dariax hasn’t done anything even remotely appealing or attractive. He’s had shit on his beard, piss on his hands, he’s dirty and loud and so obnoxious.

But when he told Dorian that he’s the handsome one and that he’s just good at talking to people and whether Dorian wants some tips from him—Dorian was tempted. For a split second, he was thinking about Dariax offering to teach him how to flirt.

Because Dorian might be aware that he’s handsome, but he has exactly zero idea about how to flirt with people.

“Hey, Dorian! Do I still get a song?”, Dariax shouts, still half sitting in Opal’s lap.

“Sure, buddy. I’ll write you a song.”

“Cool! It’s a promise!”, Dariax says, thumbs up, a big grin on his handsome face.

There, Dorian can admit it.

Dariax is handsome. They’re all handsome. It’s really no big deal. Not at all.

Dorian tries not to think about what his parents would say about Dariax, because it’s completely irrelevant. It’s not like his parents will meet his friends, and especially not Dariax. Maybe he should go to bed and hope that come the next morning his circling thoughts will have stopped.

“Are you working on the song?”

Dorian blinks and turns his head, only to come face to face with Dariax who managed to get up from Opal’s lap and is now sitting right next to him, leaning way into Dorian’s personal space.

Dariax smells like ten different kinds of alcohol, leather and thankfully no bodily fluids, which is definitely an improvement. Dorian wishes that the fact that he’s seen this man with shit on his beard would dissuade his heart from beating a little faster every time Dariax grins at him.

Sadly his heart doesn’t care.

Neither does his stomach, which is currently doing all kinds of complicated gymnastics since Dariax invaded Dorian’s personal space.

“No. I don’t think I can concentrate in here while all that is going on”, Dorian says and gestures towards Opal who is now teaching Fearne how to do body shots.

“Aw, man. Can you play something? Something...hm. Something cool.”

“All my songs are cool, thank you very much!”

Dariax laughs.

“Yeah, okay, you’re not wrong there. You have a really beautiful voice, buddy. No wonder that goliath lady fell in love with you after like, three minutes!”

Dorian feels something that reminds him a lot of the feeling he gets when he’s falling or misses a step on some stairs. His heart starts doing an offensive little tumble and he clears his throat a little too loud as he leans out of Dariax’ space and clutches his lute as if his life depends on it.

“I don’t think I would know what to do if someone actually fell in love with me”, Dorian says with an embarrassingly shrill laugh and a second after the words have left his mouth he regrets them already.

“Aw, buddy, I told you—I can totally teach you a few tricks, you know? Just show you how to get real popular with the ladies. Or gents. Or people in general”, Dariax says and winks at him.

Dorian wishes he could turn into thin air. His cheeks feel very hot.

“I—uh. I don’t think that’s necessary. It’s not like I really have the time—“

Dariax snorts and raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, come on, Dorian. We’re just hanging out, right? If you wanna get laid, we have plenty of time for that. You should just relax a little more. Okay, so. What’s your type?”

Dorian stares at Dariax for almost thirty seconds before he clears his throat again.

“Uh. I—don’t. Well. Adventurous. Maybe—uh. Maybe brunettes?”

“Adventurous brunettes? That’s pretty vague, buddy. Just saying. Wait a second!”

Dariax leans closer again and puts his hand on Dorian’s shoulder. Then he does a terrible shout-whisper into Dorian’s ear that shouldn’t give him goosebumps but, fuck, it definitely does.

“Are you into Orym?”

Dorian blinks and turns his head to stare at Dariax who looks as if he just found out an earth-shattering secret through some careful investigation.

“N—no! No, he’s not. I mean, Orym is—fine? I don’t, uh—what I meant to say is... I don’t really know what my type is”, he ends lamely.

Of course Dariax feels the need to put an arm around Dorian now.

“Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll get you laid in no time. You have a pretty face and voice and all that, pretty sure that’ll go easy peasy.”

“That’s really not—“

“Hey guys, what are you whispering about?”, Opal shouts.

“We’re trying to figure out what Dorian’s type is to get him laid!”, Dariax shouts back.

“No, that’s not—“

“Ohh! Interesting! You don’t have a type? Did you never have a relationship before? Wait—are you like, a virgin?”

Dorian abruptly gets up from his chair. He’s definitely not drunk enough for this.

“I’m going to bed”, he says and leaves the room in a hurry, ignoring the disappointed shouts of his new friends following him outside.

*

Dorian hopes that his friends have forgotten the whole thing about supposedly getting him laid and about how Dariax intends to teach him flirting. But unfortunately the universe decides to not do him this favor.

Suddenly, every remotely attractive person they pass invokes a whole litany of questions.

Opal, Fearne and Dariax want to know everything. Which height, body-type, eye color, temperament, and style of clothing does he like? Does he prefer any genders to others? On six different occasions, Dariax tries to wingman Dorian into asking random strangers on dates.

Dorian is so desperate that he considers just telling them that he actually has someone back home, just so they will leave him alone.

It wouldn’t be the first lie he told.

Dorian feels a pang of guilt for lying about his name to these people who keep fighting alongside him.

Orym, bless his soul, is the only person who doesn’t partake in these interrogations and at some point, after Opal had asked Dorian if he was more into “tits or asses” Orym had quietly stated that “he deserves his privacy, you guys”.

Dorian has no idea if he’s a “tits or asses” kinda guy.

But Dorian just can’t stop thinking about the way Dariax’ voice sounded when it lilted “Man, you have the prettiest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen” the last time they were drunk.

It seems weirdly typical and ridiculous that Dorian has to have his first crush on the most chaotic man he ever met.

Dorian wishes he could forget about those damn words, just like everything that happened in their first week.

“You know”, Orym says to him two nights after that cursed conversation as they’re making their way further south towards Byroden, “if you told them to stop in earnest, I think they would respect that.”

The landscape is a carpet of green, sloping hills, rolling fields that lie bare now that winter is closing in around them. The sky is blue and cloudless and as they talk their breath puffs up in front of their faces and vanishes shortly after.

Dorian looks at Orym and then pointedly turns his gaze at Opal and Dariax, who started making a list of their findings regarding Dorian’s type.

“You sure?”, he says with one eyebrow raised.

Orym looks at least as pained as Dorian feels right now.

“I see your point. But they’re not—you know. Not bad people, I guess. I don’t think they want to hurt you.”

“Well, they’re not hurting me, they’re annoying me to death!”

Orym pats him on the back in a way that is so pitiful, Dorian can hardly take it.

“I wouldn’t usually encourage lying, but maybe you could just make up a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or—“

“What if I just tell them that you’re my type”, Dorian interrupts and Orym blinks at him.

“Uh—“

“No offense, you’re not. Not that you’re not handsome or anything, I just. Well—“

“It’s fine”, Orym says with a snort and shakes his head with a disbelieving smile. “You don’t have to fuss about it. You’re also very handsome but not my type.”

Dorian tries not to be offended after the last kick to his ego in Gilmore’s shop and clears his throat.

“Okay, so. What about it? Will you be my—I don’t know. My fake boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Orym, I’m desperate here!”

“I will not be swept up in all of that. I still think you should just try to talk to them.”

Dorian feels betrayed and huffs, but he doesn’t press the issue any further. It’s probably going to be fine, he thinks. That is, until Dariax walks up to him, grins up at him cheekily and bumps his elbow into Dorian’s side.

“So. Are you finally ready to admit it?”, Dariax asks.

There is a glint in his eyes that Dorian can’t quite read.

“Admit what?”, he asks, already dreading the answer.

“That you have the hots for Orym!”

Dorian stares down at Dariax, the man he, so, so very unfortunately has “the hots for” and sighs deeply.

“You caught me”, he says with a gravelly voice. “I have the hots for Orym.”

“I knew it!”, Dariax shouts, then catches himself and turns his voice into a whisper instead. “I fucking knew it!”

Dorian massages his temple.

Maybe becoming an adventurer was a terrible idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. He could make a name for himself somewhere else. The Menagerie coast is supposed to be lovely all year around.

“Okay, don’t worry, buddy. I gotcha. I’ll keep your secret, won’t even tell the girls at all. And you know what, because we’re such great friends I have a special offer just for you”, Dariax says and leans in even closer to Dorian, who has to lean down significantly.

“And what offer is that?”, Dorian asks with a sigh, resigning himself to his fate. At least Orym knows that Dorian isn’t actually attracted to him, so, he thinks, this can’t possibly get any worse.

“I should totally be your fake boyfriend so you can make him jealous.”

Dorian stares at Dariax.

Dariax stares back with the proudest grin on his handsome face.

The universe is trying to punish him. For whatever reason, it must have decided to make Dorian the butt of a cosmic joke. That’s the only explanation for all of this.

“I don’t think that’s—“

“It’s perfect! Don’t worry, I have experience with this sort of stuff, just lemme handle this.”

Dariax winks at Dorian and then grabs his hand to intertwine their fingers.

“Hey guys”, he calls as he pulls Dorian along who follows helplessly, his heart stumbling in his chest as his consciousness zooms in on the feeling of Dariax’ hand in his, “guess what. I should’ve clocked it all along, but of course it makes perfect sense! Check it out!”

And as Orym, Opal and Fearne turn their heads, Dariax raises their intertwined fingers and beams at the others.

“Wait…”, Orym starts slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion, “what…?”

“Too late, Orym. He’s my boyfriend now”, Dariax says and Dorian wishes that the wind would just pick him up and carry him away.

*

Dorian has to say something.

He can’t, under any circumstances, keep this up.

He is sitting—and gods, his heart is beating so terribly fast—on Dariax’ lap.

Dariax had insisted on it and now his muscular arms are wound around Dorian’s waist as if this is the most normal thing in the world. For someone who doesn’t actually have to breathe to survive, Dorian feels a little bit like he’s suffocating from the staccato inside his rib cage.

They made camp close to a rock formation that, according to Fearne, looks like a pig with wings. The night smells of snow, but Dorian feels hot despite the cold.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He knows it even less when Dariax’ hand finds one of his and just casually starts rubbing circles into the back of his hand with a thumb. Dorian can feel Orym’s eyes on them and sadly that edges Dariax on even more because he thinks his plan is working.

“You know”, Dariax says and sounds way too casual about it, “I can’t believe how lucky I got. Pretty sure you’re the most beautiful person I’ve been with so far, Dorian.”

“I—uh”, Dorian says, then somehow forgets how to speak. His cheeks feel incredibly hot even though he doesn’t sit remotely close to the fire.

Orym cocks his head and suddenly his eyes turn a little too wide for Dorian’s tastes.

Dorian doesn’t want anyone to understand anything about this disaster.

“Well, I would certainly love a boyfriend who tells me nice things like that”, Opal sighs dreamily. “Or—you know. Maybe a girlfriend. Who knows. I certainly don’t.”

She laughs a little too shrilly but Dorian doesn’t have the mental capacity to think about it anymore because a tingling sensation is running through his body and crawling along the underside of his skin as Dariax’ fingers just keep on gently, way too gently, drawing nonsensical symbols and circles on Dorian’s hand.

“Well, I just know what’s good. I make a great boyfriend”, Dariax announces with a smug undertone to his voice. The sad thing is that Dorian can’t even disagree.

So far, Dariax has been nothing but—well. There is no other word for it. Gentle and accommodating. He also started flirting with Dorian and his flirting only ever got tasteless twice during the last twenty-four hours.

He has offered to carry stuff for Dorian, held his hand, given him way too many compliments for Dorian’s poor heart to handle, helped him climb over some rocks and purposefully took a hit for Dorian in combat earlier today while shouting “Not my boyfriend, you ash-hole!”.

If someone had told him that Dariax makes good boyfriend material, Dorian would have scoffed at them.

But now.

Well.

Now he’s in even deeper shit, because this doesn’t help his feelings at all. It does the exact opposite of helping.

Gods, Dorian wishes he could kiss him.

“Well, I am certainly—uh. Happy? For you two”, Orym says with a pointed look at Dorian. Dorian tries to tell Orym that this wasn’t his idea with his eyes alone, that this is the worst, that Dorian definitely needs saving, but he doesn’t think anything gets across because the moment that Orym says that and looks at Dorian, Dariax seems to decide that he can’t have Orym looking at Dorian like that.

Dorian makes an embarrassing screeching sound as he is dipped backwards on Dariax’ lap. There is a very handsome, dwarven face with glinting eyes right in front of his when he opens his eyes again.

“Just go along”, Dariax whispers and before Dorian can protest or even just try to catch up with what’s happening, there are dry, warm lips pressed against his mouth and Dariax is closing his eyes.

Dorian’s brain is blank for a few seconds, then it kicks into overdrive, much like his heart that seems eager to jump right out of his chest and into the campfire. Dorian can’t fault it, because he, too, would love to jump into the campfire, never to be seen again.

Dariax is holding him with one arm while his other hand is resting on Dorian’s cheeks where Dariax’ thumb starts rubbing circles again as he kisses Dorian.

Dorian wants to run away.

He wants to kiss back.

He wants this to be real.

Dariax doesn’t actually want to kiss him. He only does it because he’s pretending, there is nothing real about any of this, no matter how nice and exciting his warm lips feel against Dorian’s.

Dorian pushes him away, clambers up from his position, trying very hard not to fall as he stands up, and steps away from Dariax hastily.

“I—ah. I need to. Pee. Yes. Pee. I’ll be—uh. Later!”

And he walks as fast as he can without breaking into a run.

His lips are still burning after he stops walking without even seeing where he’s going. It’s dumb. All of this is so incredibly dumb.

Beautiful eyes, beautiful voice, beautiful person.

Dariax really has to stop saying these things.

It’s already enough that Dorian developed this stupid crush after such a short amount of time on the road. It’s stupid that it had to be Dariax of all people—couldn’t it have been someone reasonable? Like Orym?

Couldn’t it just have been no one? Or a nice, noble lady that he impressed with his songs and good looks?

No.

He’s standing in the middle of nowhere, his heart beating rapidly in his chest with no clue where he even is or what he’s doing. The trees around him are leafless and bare, stretching towards the dark sky like skeletal silhouettes. Dorian doesn't know what to do.

Dariax kissed him.

He had his first kiss with a complete and utter maniac of a person. His lips are still tingling and gods, he wants to kiss him again and again and again—

“Dorian! Doriaaan!”

Dorian turns around and wipes at his face that feels weirdly wet.

Gods, he hates everything and everyone right now.

Dariax comes to a halt in front of him, his breath coming quickly and holding his compass rose.

“Okay—wow. Your legs. Are so. Long. You’re so. Fucking fast”, Dariax huffs and puts his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

Dorian looks at him and can’t decide whether he wants to kick Dariax in the shin or just run away further.

“So, uh—sorry. I got a little carried away and I kinda—uh. It was brought to my attention that it wasn’t very cool of me to just kiss you without asking if that’s okay with you. So—uh. Really sorry about that, shoulda thought about that before I—uh. You know.”

Dariax scratches the back of his head as he looks down at Dorian’s left knee.

“It’s—well. Yeah, I suppose a little warning would have been nice. It’s—uh.”

Dorian stops and wipes at his face again and when he looks back up Dariax is studying him, his gaze intense and uncharacteristically serious.

“Wait—wait a second. Was that your first kiss?”

“No! I mean. Yes! Sort of! Maybe!”

Dariax gapes and Dorian wishes the earth could swallow him up whole.

“Oh fuck, buddy, man, that’s. I’m really sorry, I didn’t—damn. I really fucked that one up, huh?”

Dariax looks so earnestly mortified at what he’s done that Dorian can already feel how he’s forgiving him, how he finds it endearing, how his heart swells in his chest like the idiot that it is.

“It’s not such a big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just—uh. Maybe we should talk about all of this stuff before… you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, totally. I swear I’m usually not a creep or anything, it was just… you know. The heat of the moment, or something. So…”

Dariax is scratching the back of his head again and swallows before he shoots Dorian a lopsided grin.

“So. No kissing and stuff like that, huh? Just the hand-holding? Hey, maybe a hug or something?”

Dorian stares at him and he could swear that Dariax’ cheeks are a little redder than before, which, Dorian supposes, comes from his embarrassment about his earlier fuck-up.

As long as they’re doing this fake-boyfriend gig, Dorian could kiss Dariax whenever he wants. Because apparently Dariax doesn’t mind that one little bit. He might never get the chance again to kiss him if he says no now.

So Dorian does something incredibly stupid and impulsive and maybe it’s even a real ash-hole move. In this tiny moment in time he decides to be selfish.

“Kissing is fine. Uh—you know. You’re not that bad at it, I guess”, he says and laughs which sounds terribly false in his own ears but Dariax perks up and throws him a reckless grin that makes Dorian’s heart stumble in his chest.

“Ha! You just wait for it, I’ll kiss your brains out before you know it!”

*

Dorian might be addicted.

He knows that this is all a ruse based on a misunderstanding but gods, kissing Dariax is so good.

And Dariax somehow makes it seem as if he’s just as into it as Dorian is, because he keeps kissing him all the time. Of course, it never happens when they’re alone and only when Orym is in more or less close proximity but if Dorian isn’t careful he’ll start believing that they’re actually boyfriends sooner than later.

Dariax is so good at pretending.

He kisses Dorian as if he never wants to kiss anyone else. He holds Dorian’s face in his hands as if it’s something precious. He kisses Dorian breathless and at more than one point Dorian had to stop him because he was getting a little too into it and he’s afraid of overstepping any boundaries.

Dariax promised that he would kiss Dorian’s brains out and it’s absolutely working. On the seventh day on their journey south they get so caught up in making out that they don’t realize that the others have gone to find a camping place for the night.

“We should—uh. Probably follow them”, Dorian croaks and stares down at Dariax’ lips.

“Hmhm. Yeah. Probably a good idea”, Dariax mumbles. Then he kisses Dorian again.

Dorian gets lost in the sensation of tongues sliding against one another and the feeling of Dariax’ hand cupping his cheeks. Dorian slides his hands into Dariax’ hair and buries his fingers in there, something that provokes a sound from Dariax. A sound that gives Dorian goosebumps all over his arms.

He wants to hear it again. He wants to touch more. He wants, he wants, he wants—

Dariax pulls back, his eyes glassy, his breathing labored.

“I—uh. Ha. I got a little carried away. Sorry. What do you say about checking where the others went?”

“Sure. Yeah. Great idea. Let’s go.”

He steps away from Dariax and stuffs his hands into his pockets to keep Dariax from reaching for them. This is a complete and utter disaster.

Dorian knows that he should stop it.

He shouldn’t abuse Dariax’ trust like this and keep up his pretense when all that Dariax wants is to help Dorian make Orym jealous.

Which has, of course, not worked in the slightest, but Dariax insists that it’s just because Orym is such a rational and level-headed guy.

“We just need to wear him thin, you know.”

Dorian doesn’t know.

He feels like he doesn’t know anything anymore.

When they finally reach the campsite, Fearne has placed her head in Opal’s lap and seems to be napping as Opal carefully braids her long, green hair.

“You guys alright?”, Orym asks with his eyebrows raised. Dorian feels himself flush and clear his throat.

“More than alright”, Dariax answers and winks. The implication makes Dorian’s cheeks heat up even more.

He didn’t think that Orym’s eyebrows could climb even higher, but that’s exactly what happens as he regards the two of them.

“Dorian, can I talk to you for a second?”, Orym asks and gets up from the log he was sitting on. Dorian shoots Dariax a glance and he seems… off.

Dariax doesn’t return Dorian’s look, he just walks over to the fire, lets himself fall down next to Opal and asks, way too loudly to be necessary “So what’s for dinner?”.

But Dorian doesn’t have any time to think more about this, because Orym grabs his wrist and pulls him towards a group of trees, away from the campfire and away from Dariax whose eyes seem to bore themselves into the back of Dorian’s head as he follows Orym into the night.

“What are you doing?”

Dorian doesn’t have to ask what Orym means. He wrings his hands and stares at the ground.

“I—uh. I don’t really... I don’t really know?”

“So when you said adventurous and brunette, what you actually meant was short, stocky and a complete disaster?”

“I—um...”

Orym looks at him with raised eyebrows and despite the fact that Dorian is so much taller than him he suddenly feels very small.

“Well. Dariax kind of got it into his head that I’m into you. Which I’m not.”

“Yes, we established that.”

“Exactly. And. Well, he thought it would be a good idea to be fake boyfriends to make you jealous.”

Orym’s eyebrows rise even higher towards his hairline.

“But I’m not jealous. Because you and I are just friends.”

“I know, okay? It just kinda got out of hand?He’s so—I don’t know! I don’t know what to do!”

Orym sighs and rubs his temples.

“So. You’re actually into Dariax?”, he asks.

Dorian presses his lips together and takes a deep breath before he nods.

“And he doesn’t know. He thinks you’re into me?”

Dorian nods again.

“And now he’s waiting for me to get jealous and for us two to be boyfriends?”

Dorian shrugs helplessly.

“Isn’t that... I don’t know. It seems like lying to him.”

“What do you want me to do? Just tell him that I have the hots for him and then leave the country forever?”, Dorian hisses.

“Well, maybe he has the hots for you, too!”, Orym whispers back and Dorian can’t help but laugh. It sounds a little hysterical.

“Then why would he offer to help me to get with you?”

Orym stares at Dorian for a full thirty seconds. Then he sighs.

“I guess it’s a little hard to... fathom... what goes on in Dariax’ head.”

“That seems like an understatement.”

Orym scoffs and shakes his head with half a smile on his face.

“I can’t believe you actually fell for—that.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry. I guess to each their own.”

“So what’s your type then?”

“Uh—I don’t really have a type. I’m not into the whole relationship stuff. Or—uh. The sex stuff, for that matter.”

“Oh. Oh! I see. Well, that seems pretty convenient. Way less stressful than what I’m doing with my life.”

Orym smiles and shakes his head again.

“I’m not going to lie, when I’m watching you and Dariax or Opal and Fearne I am glad that I don’t have to deal with any of it”, Orym admits.

“Opal and Fearne? How do you mean?”, Dorian asks. His brain is still stuck on kissing Dariax without Orym even being in any close proximity. His whole brain capacity seems to be occupied by thinking about Dariax. It’s an absolute clusterfuck.

“Never mind. So, what do you intend to do? You can’t keep this up forever”, Orym says and pulls Dorian away from a trail of thoughts that was leading towards something explicit and utterly unbefitting of a talk with a good friend about feelings.

“I—uh. I’m still figuring it out. I’ll just. You know, I could just tell him that I’m not into you anymore and then he would probably stop”, Dorian says and ignores the uncomfortable tightness of his chest as he thinks about not being able to kiss Dariax anymore. Or hold his hand. Or being told that he’s beautiful.

He’s so fucked.

“I think you should just tell him, you know? We’re adventurers now, no one knows what might happen. If I learned anything from our Voice of the Tempest, it’s that you should do your best to live without any regrets, because time is a precious thing”, Orym says.

“A weird soup”, Dorian answers, his voice weak and his heart hurting. Orym snorts.

“Yes, sure. A weird, precious soup. Anyway. Think about it, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

*

Something is up with Dariax.

Dorian has no idea what it is, but there is definitely something wrong.

He’s quieter than usual, which is disconcerting. He’s also, very definitely, holding onto Dorian’s hand way tighter than before.

“Hey, is everything alright?”, Dorian asks him quietly as they’re getting ready for the night. The sky overhead is dark and full of clouds and the moon is barely visible.

“Yeah, sure. Stellar”, Dariax says but he’s not looking at Dorian.

“You don’t look stellar”, Dorian insists and puts his hand on Dariax’ shoulder. Dariax’ eyes flicker down to his hand and then up to his face. Dariax opens his mouth to answer, but Dorian doesn’t hear anything because there is a searing pain on his back and he slumps forward and crumples onto his knees.

His vision goes blurry from the pain and he can feel that there is something coursing through his body. It hurts.

“Dorian? Dorian!”

Lying down seems like a great idea. What if he dies now and he didn’t even tell Dariax that he’s not into Orym? What if his adventure ends here already? He doesn’t want to sink into the weird soup that is time already. He wants…

“Take your hands off my boyfriend, you fuckers!”

“Hey! What’s going on?”

“Dorian, are you okay?”

He is definitely not okay and while he probably should have different priorities as he’s bleeding out in the grass, all he can think about is the fact that Dariax just called him his boyfriend.

“Dorian, are you okay?”, Dariax’ voice sounds muffled and far away.

“Heh. You’re really good at pretending”, he lulls as he’s turned onto his back to look up at Dariax’ face.

“What? Guys, I think he has a concussion or something!”

“Well, heal him!”

“I’m trying! Dorian, hey! Buddy, don’t pass out on me, okay?”

“Did you know that your eyes are really pretty?”, Dorian slurs and he wants to raise a hand to touch Dariax’ face that seems way too red all of a sudden, but he can’t move a muscle and as he feels Dariax’ warm healing magic flow into him, he passes out from the mind-numbing pain.

*

Dorian has never shared a bed with anyone. Neither in a platonic nor in a romantic or sexual way.

When he wakes up there is someone plastered to his side. The quiet snoring tells him that it must be Dariax.

“Are you okay, Dorian?”, Fearne’s soft voice reaches his ears and he turns his head to see her sit on his other side, her hand places closed to his shoulder as if to make sure that he’s within reach.

“Uh—ow. Yeah. What happened?”

Dorian tries to concentrate on his own body and on Fearne’s words, but he’s distracted by the feeling of Dariax sleeping so close to him. His arm is thrown over Dorian’s chest and his face is pressed into Dorian’s shoulder. Orym is nowhere to be seen.

“Those Nameless Ones seem to have a pretty far reach. They really want that spider crown.”

Dorian groans as he tries to move.

“They hit me with poison or something?”

“Yeah. Dariax fixed it. Then he insisted on carrying you back to the cart. Then he insisted to tuck you into bed. And then he just sort of flopped down next to you and stared at you really intensely until he passed out.”

Dorian tries to laugh but almost chokes on it as he imagines this short man trying to carry someone as tall as Dorian. His thoughts circle around the fact that Dariax cared for him, healed him, tucked him into bed.

“So. Ah—where are Orym and Opal?”, he asks to distract himself from the feeling of having Dariax pressed so close to him.

“They’re checking to see if we’ll be safe for the night. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Fearne smiles down at him and starts scratching Little Mister under the chin as she hums a melody that Dorian’s never heard before.

“Did you ever have a really dumb crush?”, he asks before he can stop himself. Fearne turns her head to look at him again and cocks her head.

“A crush that was dumb because it wasn’t mutual or a crush that was dumb because the person was dumb?”, she wants to know.

“Ah. Huh—I haven’t thought about it that way. I guess… how about we go with both?”

Fearne puts her index fingers to her lips and cocks her head from side to side as she thinks about it.

“Well, I don’t think crushes are dumb just because they aren’t mutual. And I also think that Opal is very intelligent in her own, special way.”

Dorian blinks.

“Wait. What?”

“Hm?”

“You have a crush on Opal?”

“Sure. I thought it was pretty obvious”, Fearne says and smiles dreamily.

“Uh—maybe. Now that you mention it, I think Orym clocked it.”

“She is just. You know. Very exciting and spontaneous and funny and creative and pretty.”

The way that Fearne just talks about her crush makes Dorian wonder why he isn’t able to just say it like this. That he likes Dariax because he’s funny and brave and adventurous and a complete idiot in a lovable kind of way.

“What do you like about Dariax?”, Fearne wants to know.

“Uh—well”, he laughs nervously and clears his throat. Dariax is still softly snoring into his shoulder. “I guess… I guess pretty much everything?”

“That’s so sweet! And that’s what he said too. You guys just fit so well”, Fearne says with an earnest smile.

“Wait. What?”

“Hm?”

“What did you just say?”

“I said that you guys fit really well.”

“No. No, I meant before that.”

“Uh—well, when I asked him what he liked most about you, he also said that he likes everything about you. I thought it was really sweet, you know? There was a whole list of things, but he stopped midway through it and said ‘So basically, everything’.”

There was a whole list of things.

A list.

 “So basically, everything.”

“Dorian? Are you really okay? You look a little flushed.”

“Hm? Oh—yeah. I’m fine. Perfect. Peachy. Never better.”

He laughs nervously and glances over at Dariax as his insides dissolve into small, hyperactive butterflies. Maybe it’s not what he thinks. Maybe Dariax meant that he likes everything about Dorian as a friend.

“If you’re sure you’re okay I think I’ll stretch my legs a little bit. This cart is pretty small”, Fearne says and scoots towards the exit of the cart. Little Mister follows behind her and a moment later Dorian is alone with a snoring Dariax, whose hand has somehow managed to sneak under Dorian’s shirt.

What is he supposed to do now?

Wake Dariax up? Confess his feelings?

His heart beats so quickly that Dorian is almost afraid that it might just leap out of his rib cage. In the end he’s not brave enough to wake Dariax up and instead intertwines their fingers and turns his head to look at Dariax who has definitely drooled onto his shirt.

He knows that he’s completely fucked because he thinks that this is endearing.

Dorian raises his arm and gently cards his hand through Dariax’ hair.

Dariax makes a small sound in his sleep, something that sounds like a content sigh, and the butterflies in Dorian’s stomach start dancing happily.

“D’you really think my eyes are pretty?”, Dariax mumbles a second later and Dorian pulls his hand away hastily as Dariax’ eyes open.

“Um—well. Yeah. They’re… they have a very nice color”, Dorian croaks. Dariax pulls his hand out from under Dorian’s shirt and starts rubbing at his eyes.

“You okay again?”

“Yeah. Thank you for saving me. And carrying me to the cart. And—uh. Tucking me in.”

Dariax’ cheeks redden as he coughs slightly before sitting up.

“Well, you know. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”, Dariax says with half a laugh in his voice that doesn’t sound completely genuine.

Dorian swallows and bites his bottom lip as he tries to find the words. He’s usually not bad at talking, so why does this seem so endlessly hard?

“So—uh. I have something to confess”, he starts as his thoughts start spinning around in panicked circles. Dariax turns his head to look down at him.

“I know, I know”, he answers.

“Huh?”

“Well, I figured, you know. When Orym dragged you away I thought you guys probably had a talk?”

“We did, yeah”, Dorian says but he is endlessly confused about what that has to do with anything.

“See, I knew it. So you think it finally started working, huh? Told you, I’m really good at this kind of stuff.”

Dorian decides that he has to sit up for this. His head is spinning and his heart is racing and he is endlessly confused about what in the ever-loving hell is going on.

“Working? What are you talking about?”

“You know, the jealousy thing.”

Dorian stares at him.

Then it finally clicks.

“Dariax… I don’t want to be fake boyfriends anymore”, he says quietly before he can think of a better way to say it. Dariax’ expression twists and he looks away, his hand reaching for the back of his head to scratch at his scalp—a sign for nervousness, as Dorian knows by now.

“Yeah. Okay. I—uh. That’s—“

“I want to be your real boyfriend.”

Dariax blinks a few times. Then his face turns the deepest shade of red that Dorian has ever seen on him.

“You—what?”

“I don’t like Orym. I never have. Not like that. I—uh. I like you. And when—if—I kiss you again I don’t want it to be just pretend, I want to really kiss you. Because I—uh. I really like kissing you.”

Dariax is still staring at him, seemingly stunned. The hand at the back of his head has stopped moving and started to sink slowly back into Dariax’ lap.

“So…”, Dorian says and the nervous energy humming under his skin is almost unbearable, “can I? Can I… kiss you? For real?”

If Dariax doesn’t say anything soon Dorian might have to flee from the cart and actually leave the country. The suspense is torturous, his words hang heavy in the air between them. And then, faster than Dorian can react, Dariax lounges himself at Dorian and kisses him so passionately that Dorian can’t suppress the moan that escapes him.

Dariax pushes at him, shoves Dorian back down onto the bedroll, sinks one hand into Dorian’s long hair and cups his face with the other.

Dorian’s brain goes blank as he arches up against Dariax’ weight on top of him.

“So, is that a yes?”, he pants into the kiss.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes”, Dariax rasps and kisses him again. “Gods, you’re so pretty. I thought I was going to go insane.”

Dorian makes a very embarrassing noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper. Maybe he likes those compliments more than a normal person would.

“So you like me?”

“Are you kidding me? So fucking much.”

Dariax is kissing his whole face now and Dorian wraps his arms around him. He feels light as a feather and the butterflies in his stomach have gone completely off the rails.

“Are you guys decent?”, Opal shouts from outside the cart.

“No! Go away! I want to make out with my boyfriend!”, Dariax shouts back and Dorian laughs.

“Don’t leave any icky spots though!”, Opal says.

“Oh, come on”, Dorian hears Orym protest.

“That’s what Prestidigitation is for, Opal! Read a book about magic!”, Dariax announces loudly and Dorian has no time to protest this obscene exchange because Dariax is kissing him again and Orym seems to be dragging Opal away from the cart.

“So do you know what that means?”, Dorian mumbles against Dariax’ lips.

“Hm?”

“I don’t need any flirting lessons from you after all.”