Fic: Prices
Title: Prices
Rating: pg
Summary: "When accepted as a lover, it was understood that Dorian was fickle."
Notes: I swore I'd get something original done. I had originally intended to make this much, much longer. Like...multiple-chapter longer. I may write more with them.
Dorian liked to think of himself as both a philanthropist and a businessman. His house was full of people who he “hired” as models. Most didn't have jobs, and he never required it, so long as one wasn't idle all day. He generally preferred artists of some sort, and he had a good eye for picking out what people were like. Because of this, there was always someone playing music, although if it was possible he expected it to be kept quiet for the sake of others. More than one musician was given a good practice mute for this purpose.
There were prices to pay for free room and board, though. If a person did have a job, they were expected to help out buying common household items. He was completely unwilling to pay for twenty people to live in semi-comfort, and just have them collecting money on the side.
On the other hand, he was a jealous artist. Once, he found out that a girl was modeling for another photographer, and gave her till morning to leave. It was like she was a lover who he caught being unfaithful. Similarly, one was always in danger of him getting bored, at which time he made it clear that it was time for them to get a job and move out.
My fear was double, maybe even triple, that of others. More than once he had come home one day with a new lover, and suddenly the old one would be discarded. Before me was Lisa, and when she found out she was replaced, with a guy no less, she was Not Happy. When I voiced my worries, Dorian told me it was something she would have to live with. He would have nothing but peace in his house, and as soon as it was broken, the instigator was out. When accepted as a lover, it was understood that Dorian was fickle.
In his defense, he was always very open about his feelings of others. He never put up a nice front if he didn't like someone, and never hung on to relationships. He was just as jealous when it came to his lovers, and expected them to feel just as betrayed as he would, should he have more than one. This was a great comfort to me throughout our romance.
Strangely, he was very shy about his work. He would never come to show off a photo or drawing-if you wanted to see, you had to ask. I would ask when he was drawing from time to time, and there was always a fifty percent chance he would just shrug. This meant he was embarrassed, and wouldn't let me see. I knew he drew me as I slept, even though he would hurriedly hid the fact when I woke up. Once I got him to show me, and he smiled when I gave him a kiss in return.
As time went on, though, my fear began to grow. I could see him growing itchy. He would frown at his work of me, and I could tell he was frustrated. Once, early in our relationship, he told me there were always people with which it couldn't be done. I was realizing that I was one of those people, and our entire romance relied on that. Dorian make it clear on several occasions that he wasn't interested in people he was unable to draw or photograph.
And yet, he hung on through his frustration. It seemed to become almost an obsession.
One morning I was pulled out of sleep as I felt him shift beside me. I could feel his eyes on me and I sighed, refusing to fully wake. I felt his hair brush my skin as he leaned down and kissed my shoulder.
Thinking I was asleep, he whispered, “Why can't I capture your beauty, when I so want to? It's never quite right...”
I lay there like that for a little while longer, before opening my eyes to look at him. He smiled at me and flicked his dark hair away from his face, but it fell back. With a soft laugh, I pushed it back behind an ear, before pulling him down for a kiss. He settled on his side, and just looked at me again.
“How did I get so lucky?” I asked, more to myself than anything.
“Everything comes with a price,” he replied. “You lost your family.”
I sighed, remembering my parents' bitter words upon learning of my homosexuality. It was a few days later that he found me sitting in a cheap diner, downing coffee in order to put off having to find a place to sleep. He asked me to come home with him, and there was something extraordinary in the way he told me that he loved me. Even though he had only known me for a very short time, and it gave no guarantees for the future, at that moment he was sincerely willing to give me his heart. Ten minutes after meeting this dark stranger, I was hooked.
Looking at him now, his eyes almost even pleading, I felt it was worth it.
“I'd do it again.”
Dorian smiled and buried his hand in my hair, pulling me against him. We both fell back asleep like that, wrapped around each other. And I prayed to be given just a little more time.
Fast Fact: Dorian's name was originally Alexander. However, due to my current obsession, I was reluctant to use it, because I wanted them to be mutually exclusive. In the end, Dorian ended up suiting him better--Alexanders are cocky show-offs. His lover doesn't even have a name yet.
---
Rating: pg
Summary: "When accepted as a lover, it was understood that Dorian was fickle."
Notes: I swore I'd get something original done. I had originally intended to make this much, much longer. Like...multiple-chapter longer. I may write more with them.
Dorian liked to think of himself as both a philanthropist and a businessman. His house was full of people who he “hired” as models. Most didn't have jobs, and he never required it, so long as one wasn't idle all day. He generally preferred artists of some sort, and he had a good eye for picking out what people were like. Because of this, there was always someone playing music, although if it was possible he expected it to be kept quiet for the sake of others. More than one musician was given a good practice mute for this purpose.
There were prices to pay for free room and board, though. If a person did have a job, they were expected to help out buying common household items. He was completely unwilling to pay for twenty people to live in semi-comfort, and just have them collecting money on the side.
On the other hand, he was a jealous artist. Once, he found out that a girl was modeling for another photographer, and gave her till morning to leave. It was like she was a lover who he caught being unfaithful. Similarly, one was always in danger of him getting bored, at which time he made it clear that it was time for them to get a job and move out.
My fear was double, maybe even triple, that of others. More than once he had come home one day with a new lover, and suddenly the old one would be discarded. Before me was Lisa, and when she found out she was replaced, with a guy no less, she was Not Happy. When I voiced my worries, Dorian told me it was something she would have to live with. He would have nothing but peace in his house, and as soon as it was broken, the instigator was out. When accepted as a lover, it was understood that Dorian was fickle.
In his defense, he was always very open about his feelings of others. He never put up a nice front if he didn't like someone, and never hung on to relationships. He was just as jealous when it came to his lovers, and expected them to feel just as betrayed as he would, should he have more than one. This was a great comfort to me throughout our romance.
Strangely, he was very shy about his work. He would never come to show off a photo or drawing-if you wanted to see, you had to ask. I would ask when he was drawing from time to time, and there was always a fifty percent chance he would just shrug. This meant he was embarrassed, and wouldn't let me see. I knew he drew me as I slept, even though he would hurriedly hid the fact when I woke up. Once I got him to show me, and he smiled when I gave him a kiss in return.
As time went on, though, my fear began to grow. I could see him growing itchy. He would frown at his work of me, and I could tell he was frustrated. Once, early in our relationship, he told me there were always people with which it couldn't be done. I was realizing that I was one of those people, and our entire romance relied on that. Dorian make it clear on several occasions that he wasn't interested in people he was unable to draw or photograph.
And yet, he hung on through his frustration. It seemed to become almost an obsession.
One morning I was pulled out of sleep as I felt him shift beside me. I could feel his eyes on me and I sighed, refusing to fully wake. I felt his hair brush my skin as he leaned down and kissed my shoulder.
Thinking I was asleep, he whispered, “Why can't I capture your beauty, when I so want to? It's never quite right...”
I lay there like that for a little while longer, before opening my eyes to look at him. He smiled at me and flicked his dark hair away from his face, but it fell back. With a soft laugh, I pushed it back behind an ear, before pulling him down for a kiss. He settled on his side, and just looked at me again.
“How did I get so lucky?” I asked, more to myself than anything.
“Everything comes with a price,” he replied. “You lost your family.”
I sighed, remembering my parents' bitter words upon learning of my homosexuality. It was a few days later that he found me sitting in a cheap diner, downing coffee in order to put off having to find a place to sleep. He asked me to come home with him, and there was something extraordinary in the way he told me that he loved me. Even though he had only known me for a very short time, and it gave no guarantees for the future, at that moment he was sincerely willing to give me his heart. Ten minutes after meeting this dark stranger, I was hooked.
Looking at him now, his eyes almost even pleading, I felt it was worth it.
“I'd do it again.”
Dorian smiled and buried his hand in my hair, pulling me against him. We both fell back asleep like that, wrapped around each other. And I prayed to be given just a little more time.
Fast Fact: Dorian's name was originally Alexander. However, due to my current obsession, I was reluctant to use it, because I wanted them to be mutually exclusive. In the end, Dorian ended up suiting him better--Alexanders are cocky show-offs. His lover doesn't even have a name yet.
---