Don't Ask Questions (Closed)

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[attr="class","vgroup"] [attr="class","vogue"] [attr="class","mainv"]WARLOCK [attr="class","vlyrics"] To be talking to you: belladonna Should've taken a break, not an oxford comma Take what I want when I wanna And I want ya [attr="class","vcred"]Joan Amador

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[attr="class","vpostbg"]The door to the training room slid open and Dorian strolled in, nonchalant in his matching sweatpants and hoodie. The particular room was more remote and less used. Not only to offer them privacy, but because this was the venue Joan used to train, historically. Speaking of, the man was already there, waiting, and Dorian's lips twisted in a predatory smirk without trying, as soon as he laid eyes on him.

"Eager, are we?" Dorian asked, his tone, as ever, full of innuendo. He deftly unzipped his sweatshirt and let it drop to the ground, revealing a black, sleeveless athletic tank top that molded around every contour and divot of his torso's musculature. "Can't say I blame you." The Warlock bent down and shoved off his sweatpants to show a similarly fitted pair of leggings clapping him from waist to ankle.

Much as Dorian was looking forward to sparring with Joan, it wasn't entirely a choice. They'd been ordered by the powers that be in the Cabal to get intimately familiar with fighting against and alongside one another. Dorian may have chafed at the order, if it didn't please him so very, very much. "Remember," he said, straightening, striding nearer to where Joan was, in the middle of the room, "you're not supposed to hold back."

They needed to measure one another on a martial level, yes. But part of Dorian's whole purpose was to allow Joan to not worry about excess radiation he might put out. The Warlock wondered if the boy had ever been able to exert himself without fretting over his powers. Dorian, meanwhile, tamped down his eagerness, hiding it behind cool poise. In reality he couldn't wait to begin. To taste Joan's emotions and energies in combat? His skin ached with longing for it.

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

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[Joan Amador]

it comes in waves

i close my eyes

hold my breath & let it bury me

❧

It had been a decent amount of time since he'd lost control of his powers and ended up staying the night in Dorian's room. After that he'd ended up staying a few more nights with Dorian. He'd asked if he was being a bother but had received no clue that the answer was yes and Dorian was just too polite to tell him. He slept best when he had Dorian there, knowing Dorian could keep him from killing everyone in his sleep.

It was similar thoughts like that that had kept him so glued to Dorian's side. Perses had asked them to remain close but it was starting to become more. He was starting to realize he wanted to remain by Dorian less so because he'd been asked, or ordered, to and more so because he genuinely enjoyed the closeness between them.

He didn't really know what that meant but he was working on figuring it out.

Joan had woken up early, gotten breakfast early, and then headed for the training room that was unofficially his a while before Dorian showed up. He knew Perses well and had expected that they would be asked to spar. If he was still going to be assigned missions - and he had no doubt that he was - then he knew Dorian would be assigned those same missions to keep them close.

He knew from experience that sparring against someone was a good way to assess that person's skills and learn their weaknesses, their strengths. That knowledge would be valuable when the two of them had to fight together.

He was dressed in basic athletic attire, the pants all black by the tank top white. He'd grabbed a collapsible bo staff, similar to the one he had but without the taser option. He was studying the weapon right when Dorian walked in.

Joan looked at Dorian with a soft smile and innocent eyes. He was very good at putting on a front, of hiding a part of himself from someone.

Both eyebrows rose with intrigue as Dorian started removing garments of clothing. Part of him had expected him to tear the pants right off - that seemed like something Dorian would do. He also found himself a bit disappointed when the other man didn't remove everything.

"Don't want to fight in your robe?" he asked all innocent, referring to the robe the other man wore in his bedroom. "Mm - Guess I'll have to settle for picturing that in my head." It was the first time he'd actually flirted with Dorian, at least verbally. But he was growing more confident around the man and more confident with himself the more time they spent together.

That and it was a good strategy, he thought, to try to distract him.

He nodded, a bit of the innocence slipping and professionalism showing, when he was reminded he wasn't supposed to hold back. It made him uncomfortable admittedly. He was so used to having to hold back... He wasn't sure he knew how not to do that.

Dorian, he thought, didn't look eager to start. He looked composed to Joan. Perhaps that should have rattled him but he had years of training and experience. He was fairly confident that he would win.

So he held his hands behind his back and gave his best innocent smile. "You should know, I bruise rather easily," he added as if he was afraid of Dorian hurting him before his expression suddenly changed and an edge of danger could be found in his eyes.

He moved swiftly and quickly, clicking the bo staff and elongating it fully. In mere seconds, he swung it, aiming rather low - a cheap and dirty shot, he knew, but he'd been trained to fight dirty if necessary. The blow had the intent of getting Dorian to double over, but he didn't stop to see if it'd worked, having also been trained to press the attack. It wasn't long as all before he was swinging another blow, aiming to crack the staff against the side of Dorian's head.

After all, he'd been told to not hold back.

691 ● @dorian ● n/a

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + GS

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[attr="class","vgroup"] [attr="class","vogue"] [attr="class","mainv"]WARLOCK [attr="class","vlyrics"] To be talking to you: belladonna Should've taken a break, not an oxford comma Take what I want when I wanna And I want ya [attr="class","vcred"]Joan Amador

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[attr="class","vpostbg"]Surprise. The barest, most fleeting spark of it passed through his brown eyes. Like a flash of lightning, only its thunder was unabashed desire; an even more dangerous curve to his smirking lips. That Joan was feeling comfortable enough around Dorian to display an unfiltered reality was one thing. That he felt so inclined to flirt? Quite another - quite a useful and ache-inducing other.

Joan scarcely resembled the introspective, tortured, lonesome creature he'd been just weeks ago, upon their meeting. For some reason, thinking of him as he had been made Dorian have to suppress the urge to gather the younger man against himself in a fierce, possessive embrace. Simultaneously, seeing his progress toward normalcy made a heat fill the Warlock that he was utterly unfamiliar with.

"Good. Now we're fantasizing about each other. I was worried it'd always be one-sided." If Joan's first flirtatious barb kindled Dorian's skin, his next stoked that flame to white. The comment about bruising had Dorian suddenly, automatically biting his bottom lip. Whether to keep a groan in or some highly crude comment, he didn't even know. "Tease," he muttered with difficulty.

Then they had begun. Joan's look of feigned innocence set the Warlock's heart leaping, and then he was doubled over. He hardly put two-and-two together when the staff that'd bent him nearly in half connected with his temple, sending Dorian stumbling, dazedly to the floor. He'd not expected such speed and deft articulation from Joan. Part of him chastised himself, the rest purred in approval of Joan's competence.

The Warlock milked his pitiful performance, waiting for Joan to lower his guard just the barest bit, preying on a hope that the boy would regret laying his retainer low. Then, with a flash of crimson through his irises, Dorian was behind Joan, hands reaching around him to grab the bo-staff around Joan's own grip, pulling the length of flexible metal up against Joan's throat.

"You're better than I expected," he breathed roughly, silkily, longingly into Joan's ear. "Shame on me."

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

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[Joan Amador]

it comes in waves

i close my eyes

hold my breath & let it bury me

❧

He allowed himself a smug smirk when he got Dorian on the ground. The room was already beginning to fill with radiation. Rather than worrying about that, Joan was focused on the fight. After all he'd been told to not hold back and that included his radioactive abilities.

He twirled the staff expertly in his hand and circled the other man, eyeing him to see how long it'd take him to get back up. He could've struck again but, well, where was the fun in that?

But then Dorian was up and suddenly behind him. Joan froze in place when the staff was held against his throat, very aware of the threat that was. He hadn't even seen Dorian move. Apparently there was more Dorian could do than simply absorb his radiation, he realized - or was it the radiation that granted any extra abilities?

He could feel Dorian's breath on his ear as he heard his words. His heart did something in his chest and he found his body relaxing back against Dorian's, except that latter part was entirely on purpose.

"You should apologize," he huffed out, face hot. As he spoke, he began to pull back on the radiation that had escaped him, forcing it back into him. He grunted at the strain that took, having not realized just how much he'd released while not paying attention.

"You have more tricks up your sleeve than I expected," he admitted, his breath rough in his chest as he forced the radiation to remain in him while his body begged him to let it go. "Shame on me."

A trickle of blood ran from his nose. That was when he knew the radiation was enough. A soft, yet pained noise escaped him as he pushed the radiation out, his eyes flashing a radioactive green. The radiation pushed out from him in a wave, thick enough that he hoped it would push Dorian off of him.

However as soon as the radiation was gone from him, dizziness overcame him. He knew that if he'd succeeded in getting free, he'd stumble himself, most likely letting go of the staff, and opening himself up to an attack. Not his best plan, he had to admit. Hindsight, after all, was twenty-twenty.

377 ● @dorian ● n/a

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + GS

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[attr="class","vgroup"] [attr="class","vogue"] [attr="class","mainv"]WARLOCK [attr="class","vlyrics"] To be talking to you: belladonna Should've taken a break, not an oxford comma Take what I want when I wanna And I want ya [attr="class","vcred"]Joan Amador

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[attr="class","vpostbg"]"You should apologize."

The words peeled his lips away from his teeth in a wicked grin and pulled a husky laugh from him, hot against Joan's bare neck. The younger man was letting radiation pool off of him, and it was all Dorian could do not to devour it all. Pulling in a normal source of energy, it would've only augmented the Warlock. Joan's output, though. It did something to him, and the kind of bliss that drawing so much of it in would create would leave him vulnerable.

Joan grunted, and Dorian felt the ambient radiation around them coalesce, flooding back into his charge's slight frame. Pain pricked in Joan, and Dorian sensed that pain as a phantom prick himself. "We've both been naughty," Dorian conceded, still holding Joan in place. He was curious what the boy was playing at, but also distracted by the discomfort rolling through his empathic awareness from him.

Then he was thrown backwards. The burst of radiation barreled over him like a wave, sending him five feet to land, sprawled, on his back. He was disconcerted for several reasons - the unexpectedness of the attack; the way the energy bit into his skin like a drug; the emotions running through Joan. The Warlock's eyes shone a steady scarlet now, and all sense told him to exploit Joan's provided opening. Press the attack.

But those irises locked onto something just as red as themselves. Another burst of speed, without a conscious decision to use it. Again, Dorian seemed to move from one place to the next instantaneously. Only this time he was bracing the imbalanced Joan with one hand, while the other reached out to cup his cheek. Eyes, still blazing with burgundy light, looked down at Joan in hardly restrained concern.

His thumb reached over and wiped away the droplet of blood that'd carved down Joan's full upper lip. "Are you all right?" he asked, controlling his tone, even while his actions and expression undermined the attempt at nonchalance.

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

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[Joan Amador]

it comes in waves

i close my eyes

hold my breath & let it bury me

❧

He stumbled, catching himself on his hands and knees. He took in deep breathes and slowly let them out, letting them ripple through them, waiting for the dizziness to fade. His mind, what thoughts it could form outside of ugh, told him to find his staff. He didn't know where it had gone. He needed to get on the defensive...

But no attack came. In fact Dorian was so quickly by his side that he wondered if he'd successfully pushed him back at all. He moved as if to pull away from him but registered the concern in his expression and instead leaned into him. His mind told him to brace for an attack. His heart countered that Dorian wouldn't take advantage of his vulnerability, even if they'd been told to fight.

"Mm fine," he replied, shutting his eyes close against the dizziness. He felt Dorian's thumb against his upper lip. He found himself wishing he'd do more than just wipe blood away. He wondered if that was the dizziness talking.

"Happens easily," he explained because he thought Dorian had the right to know, "There are... worse side effects." The dizziness was fading. He wondered if that had to do with Dorian's comforting presence.

He opened his eyes and found Dorian's. He didn't think it was fair that there was any amount of space between them. But part of him was worried that Dorian's flirting was just to be playful and have fun. After all, Joan wasn't sure there was anything to be attracted to regarding himself.

But not was definitely not the time to get insecure or to get distracted by the growing realization that he very much found Dorian attractive.

"Where were we?" he asked lightly, tilting his head to the side. "Oh! Right, I was kicking your ass." And with that, he promptly tackled Dorian.

308 ● @dorian ● n/a

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + GS

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[Deleted]

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[attr="class","vgroup"] [attr="class","vogue"] [attr="class","mainv"]WARLOCK [attr="class","vlyrics"] To be talking to you: belladonna Should've taken a break, not an oxford comma Take what I want when I wanna And I want ya [attr="class","vcred"]Joan Amador

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[attr="class","vpostbg"]Despite Joan's assurances, Dorian didn't seem to believe he was "fine." In fact, when the boy mentioned there were worse side effects from his powers, Dorian's other hand skirted up from where it'd been bracing Joan's bicep and clasped on his other cheek, so that Joan's face was between both of Dorian's palms. He studied Joan severely, and was about to demand to know what these "other side effects" were.

But then Joan was snapping back to the moment. The negative emotions that'd been drifting through him replaced with determination, excitement and focus. Dorian opened his mouth, but a lovely, beautiful kind of mischief danced in Joan's eyes that smothered any words half-formed. Joan collided with him and the pair tumbled backwards onto the mats. Dorian grunted, but laughed through the impact, and launched his counterattack.

Innuendo and snark were traded less and less frequently after that. Most of Dorian and Joan's respective attention was bent on their grappling. Their breath devoted to keeping the flow of oxygen to their straining muscles. Dorian liked to think that he pushed Joan more than was expected, but it was overtly and unquestionably clear. If he didn't have superhuman physiology, there wouldn't have been a contest.

Even with his heightened physique, Joan pressed him without a moment's relief. Two hours after they'd begun, Dorian gave a stifled groan as his back met the mat for what felt like the hundredth time. Joan pinned him there, straddling his stomach, one foot nimbly pegging one of the Warlock's arms to the ground at the wrist.

Dorian breathed heavily, blinking through the sweat that made a heady sheen on every square inch of his exposed skin. "Fine!" he groaned. "You win!" Dorian wrenched his arm free and reached up to keep Joan in place, his hands on the younger man's hip bones. With a smooth motion, Dorian raised up into a sitting position, Joan forced into bear-hugging his waist.


The Warlock's chest continued to heave and he quirked a brow at his burden. "You stink," he said with a sly grin. Blatantly ignoring the fact that he was just as bad. 

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

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[Joan Amador]

it comes in waves

i close my eyes

hold my breath & let it bury me

❧

He would've been smug when he finally won but he was too tired. He'd managed to keep a sort of calm focus on the sparring, managing to keep his radioactive qualities under check. The room was still saturated with radiation, but it was contained to that very room and it hadn't gotten so out of control that he was glowing. He counted that as a win as well.

He felt Dorian's hands on his hips, watched as he sat up, his own hands resting against Dorian's chest, noting the way he could feel his heart beating.

Joan looked up at him at his comment, quirking an eyebrow of his own. "And here I was going to say you smell wonderful," he threw back, though he knew they both needed to wash off. His words were laced with exertion, his muscles beginning to protest, to ache. He knew he'd be feeling the work out especially the next day.

He also had a feeling that the next day they'd be asked to spar alongside each other. He knew how Perses worked, after all, what he'd want. He knew him quite well.

He could still feel Dorian's heartbeat under his hand. His finger scrunched the shirt, ignoring the fact that it was slick with sweat. His timidness was returning, his insecurities were refusing to be ignored. He rested his forehead down against Dorian's chest.

"Did you mean what you said?" he asked, voice once again small. "About... About y'know?" He swallowed a gallon of embarrassment, his cheeks burning. He pulled his head back up but still couldn't quite meet Dorian's eyes. "About fantasizing about me?"

He released his grip on Dorian's shirt, pulling his hands back, unconsciously trying to make himself small. "Or... Were you - Were you just trying to distract me?" He couldn't ignore it or deny it, the longing he felt, the attraction he felt. He wanted to kiss Dorian. He wanted Dorian to kiss him.

He wanted to be wanted.

331 ● @dorian ● n/a

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + GS

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[attr="class","vgroup"] [attr="class","vogue"] [attr="class","mainv"]WARLOCK [attr="class","vlyrics"] To be talking to you: belladonna Should've taken a break, not an oxford comma Take what I want when I wanna And I want ya [attr="class","vcred"]Joan Amador

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[attr="class","vpostbg"]Dorian's teeth were bared in a wicked grin at Joan's sarcastic barb. His hands, braced against Dorian's chest, curled, pulling in more of the older man's tank-top, revealing more of his pectorals, swelling and falling with his breath. Dorian's attention was snagged on absorbing the ambient radiation still lingering in the room but, above all, monitoring Joan's emotions. They were twisting and turning unexpectedly, piquing Dorian's curiosity like no one else could.

Joan rested his head against the Warlock's chest and, despite the sweat-matted hair brushing his chin, Dorian closed his eyes in rare, genuine contentment. He found he would've been content to spend the rest of the day there, holding his charge. But Joan's mood was dipping toward timidity, fear and trepidation at an unmistakable rate. Reflexively, Dorian's hands slipped from the boy's hips to brace the small of his back, more fully enveloping him.

Joan spoke, drawing a few inches between them, unwinding his fingers from Dorian's shirt. The Warlock was stunned beyond comprehension, for a moment, at those words. That question. Alarms and sly sense flashed in Dorian's mind. He should keep this professional. The parameters of his mission were quite plain. He was to keep Joan enticed and charmed enough to make him pliable but no more. Every scrap of clever judgment that Dorian so prided himself on told him to let the boy down gently. To draw their relationship away from sincerity and back into the comfortable ebb and flow of snark, banter, and smirk-laced implications.

The boy in Dorian's arms, though? Just being around him these past weeks had been feeding a creature in his chest that, before meeting Joan, had gone the Warlock's entire life without a scrap. Joan's fear brought a swell of fierce protectiveness in Dorian. But above all? Above all, the heartbreaking longing that Dorian felt radiating like a wound from Joan did something the Warlock could've never expected. It resonated with the same kind of want in Dorian - a desire he'd been determined not to face.

Joan couldn't meet his eye, but Dorian was beyond logic or reason, so utterly possessed by those emotions that they were sharing. He reached up with one hand, taking Joan's chin firmly in it, forcing him to look up into Dorian's smoldering gaze. His mouth formed words, voicing a thought, and again Dorian was paradoxically not in control of his faculties - not choosing to say them. "You are so beautiful," he admired, barely a whisper.

Dorian leaned down, sealing his lips against Joan's. Tenderly at first - idyllically. But as his skin felt like it was catching fire, Dorian couldn't help it, deepening the kiss, one hand slipping into Joan's damp hair, the other still at the small of his back, clutching Joan to him like his life depended on it. Somewhere through the euphoria, time and space found them again and Dorian used every ounce of self-control to peel his stubble-framed lips from Joan's full ones. Just far enough apart that they could gasp on the same air.

"Does that answer your question?" he asked, rubbing his nose against Joan's, eyes closed.

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

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[Joan Amador]

it comes in waves

i close my eyes

hold my breath & let it bury me

❧

He felt Dorian's hand on his chin and soon found his eyes. He'd slowly, over the course of knowing him, been realizing just how starved for someone's touch, someone's affection he was. He'd realized just how starved for Dorian's touch, Dorian's affection he was.

He barely had time to register Dorian's words before their lips were pressed together. He didn't know what to expect - He'd never kissed anyone before. But there was a fire there he couldn't ignore and frankly didn't want to.

He leaned into the kiss, arms resting on Dorian's shoulders. A small, pleased noise escaped him as the kiss was deepened. The radiation spiked, pooling off of him, filling the room in a haze of radioactivity. He leaned forward, pressing his body against Dorian's, his own hands finding their way into his slick hair.

Joan whined, small, quiet, when the kiss broke. There was a faint glow to his eyes, though not nearly as bright as the night he'd lost control and found himself in Dorian's arms. He closed his eyes when Dorian rubbed their noses together and the glow was gone by the time they fluttered open again.

"I like you," he breathed out, meeting Dorian's gaze. "A lot." He'd never had a boyfriend before - or even a girlfriend, a partner, a lover. He so desperately wanted to call Dorian his. "Can I have you?" he asked, "If you have me?" He didn't know how else to word it, that was the only way it was coming to his mind. He wanted to belong to Dorian and he wanted Dorian to belong to him.

He pulled his hands out of Dorian's hair, grimacing at the sweat that encased the both of them. His eyes returned to Dorian and something playfully flashed in them.

"I need a bath," he stated then leaned forward and whispered right in Dorian's ear, "You should come help me."

319 ● @dorian ● Feel free to end it on your next turn if you want. 💚

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + GS

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