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Orym liked to think that – generally speaking – he was a pretty sensible man. He worked a steady job, kept a tidy home, called his parents every Whelsen, and always replied promptly to his sisters’ texts. He went out with friends on the weekends, exercised regularly, and cooked healthy meals. His life was about as normal as he could make it in almost every way. Still, as average as he was, there were still moments when he found himself wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into. Moments of chaos so pure that all he could do was stare into them and wonder what had caused it. More and more lately, the answer to that question was Fearne.
Fearne Calloway was his closest neighbor and his best friend. He’d initially been a little intimidated by the faun living in the other half of the duplex on the west side of Emon, but she’d been so relentlessly kind and friendly that it had been no time at all before they’d been fast friends. The fact that she was also apparently a professional dominatrix of some local repute quickly becoming only mildly more surprising than any other random fact about her life he’d discovered. If anything, he thought it was probably good for him to be so out of his comfort zone with her. He’d moved to Emon because he needed a change, and visiting the occasional sex party was definitely not something he’d ever dreamed of doing back home.
He’d always had a vague interest in bondage, and he and his late husband had dabbled, but never seriously. An invitation to one of Fearne’s parties had sparked an interest in shibari that had turned into a few scenes (he was small and flexible and fit, which made him an easy model to work on). The few scenes had turned into a handful of friends in the scene, and now he was the kind of person who attended a monthly sex party on the third Folsen of the month, where he would chat with new people, eat snacks, get tied up and hung from the ceiling, and sometimes watch his friends have sex with each other. It was a good life, and he liked it.
The downside to attending Fearne’s parties, though, was that since she was a local celebrity (insomuch as one could call a dominatrix a ‘celebrity’), she also tended to be an introduction for a lot of people into the local bondage scene in much the same way that she’d been Orym’s introduction. This, combined with her exuberance and outgoing personality, meant sometimes her invitations didn’t go to people who Orym would necessarily have invited into a sex party. Not that she was inviting aggressive or disrespectful people – she swore by her ability to tell if the vibes were off – but it wasn’t uncommon for new people to show up thinking they’d jump right in, only to end up scared and overwhelmed when confronted with the reality of possibly having sex with one or more strangers. But they weren’t his parties, and Fearne had been doing this longer than Orym had, so he simply did his best to be nearby and help out where he could to keep things running smoothly.
Which meant that when he found a genasi man in thigh high socks, booty shorts, and a mesh shirt hyperventilating on her patio, it wasn’t actually as surprising as it probably should have been. Orym was instantly on alert, taking in the stranger curled up in a ball on the patio. He had long ombre hair tangled around his head, and while he wasn’t currently crying, there were mascara streaks down his cheeks.
“Everything okay?” Orym asked, leaving the door cracked enough that hopefully the stranger wouldn’t feel trapped or unsafe and crouching down nearby, but not so close that he could touch this person without warning. It was always a high pressure situation for most people, and adding to the stress could only make things worse.
The genasi nodded affirmative, but didn’t respond verbally, so Orym continued his routine.
“Did someone do something you didn’t want?” A headshake no. “Is someone bothering you?” Another no. “Did you take something?” No. “Are you hurt?”
“I threw up,” the stranger finally said softly, scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.
“Okay. Well, that’s okay. It happens sometimes. Are you sick?”
The stranger shook his head again. “I…threw up on someone.”
Orym thought he was starting to get the picture of what happened now, between the tear streaks on his face and the splotchy blush on his cheeks he privately thought the person who got puked on may have deserved it, but that wouldn’t make his new companion feel any better.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Orym asked softly, using the same voice he’d use if he’d stumbled on an injured horse somewhere. It had served him well in similar previous encounters.
“I’m okay,” the genasi replied with a quavering voice. “I’m fine. Sorry for bothering you.”
“Hey, no, don’t apologize. These things can be a lot – especially if it’s your first time.” He slowly extended a hand out. “I’m Orym, by the way. I live next door.”
“I’m, er, Dorian,” the other man replied, reaching out to shake Orym’s hand. “Fearne invited me.”
“She does that. Do you have a friend here you want me to get?”
“No, I’m…” Dorian looked away like he suddenly realized he was about to admit something he didn’t want to, and Orym knew exactly what it was without even being told that Dorian had shown up to a sex party where he didn’t know anyone and hadn’t told anyone where he’d be.
“Okay, well, we don’t have to tell them yet, if you don’t want,” Orym replied before Dorian had to admit it and put himself in a more vulnerable position. “Are you okay to wait here for a minute?”
Dorian nodded and sniffled, looking oddly pitiful for a grown man whose dick Orym could probably see if he angled his head right, but at least he wasn’t currently crying, and that was all Orym could ask for right now. He retreated inside and grabbed a bottle of sports drink from the fridge and a container full of orange slices he knew would be there. Fearne always had lots of little snacks around for these things, and Orym thought oranges might be the best for someone who had already thrown up once tonight. He didn’t think anything was particularly wrong with Dorian physically at this point, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need some help. Emotional safety was at least as important as physical, and Orym took that very seriously.
Once he had his items, Orym made his way quickly back to the patio and was halfway out the door before he thought to snag a towel off the pile of cleanup materials helpfully provided nearby. Sure enough, Dorian was still sitting and sniffling on the patio when Orym returned and dropped down to sit close enough to pass things back and forth.
“I thought you might be cold,” Orym said by way of explanation before handing Dorian the towel. If nothing else, it was good to have something soft, and covering up also might make him feel a little less vulnerable, as well.
“Thank you,” Dorian replied a little numbly, snuggling the towel to his chest. “I’m really okay, I promise. You can go back to your fun.”
“I don’t usually go in for the harder stuff,” Orym said lightly. “And right now it’s a lot of flogging inside.”
Dorian’s cheeks went blotchy and violet again, and Orym decided to unpack that reaction later.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked instead, offering Dorian the bottle of sports drink he’d grabbed for him. The genasi almost reached for it, but then seemed to think better of it, looking between the bottle and Orym quickly. Ah. Right.
Orym quickly removed the top, making sure Dorian could hear the little plastic tabs snapping, and took a sip himself before putting the lid back on and offering it a second time. This time, Dorian accepted it, looking a little embarrassed again but taking his own sip. Orym sat quietly, waiting until his companion had settled again before opening his container of orange slices and setting them down between them. He took one of his own and offered the container to Dorian, who accepted this, too, sitting and staring into his fruit as though it held all the mysteries of the universe.
“So how do you know Fearne?” Orym asked, since that felt like a safe enough place to start.
“I don’t, really,” Dorian replied miserably. “I met her in my movement class and we got to talking, and she said she thought I’d get along great with some other people she knew, and then invited me to this.”
“She…I’m really hoping she remembered to tell you what kind of party this was, right?”
“Oh! Yes. Yeah…she…I knew where I was going.”
Orym breathed a sigh of relief. He loved Fearne, but she could sometimes be a little flighty, and while to his knowledge she’d never invited someone who didn’t know they were going to a sex party, he really didn’t want to take that on faith, either. Especially when he found a college student crying on her patio.
“I just thought I’d be different,” Dorian blurted out before bursting into sobs again. “Back at home, I never did anything like this, and I thought college would be a good time to experiment, and everyone always makes jokes about how theater majors are sluts, and I just wanted to try it out, and my brother always used to tease me about playing flute like I was sucking a dick, and you know how air genasi don’t need to breathe, so I figured I’d be good at that part, and then the first guy I tried I threw up, and I didn’t like it, and my hair is a mess, and maybe Mom is right and I’m not cut out to be an actor.”
Orym was really trying to be empathetic to whatever Dorian had going on, but he’d just received a lot of information about the man in a very short period of time and was struggling to keep up with this train of thought. Dorian unfortunately seemed to take his silence as judgment and started sobbing again in earnest.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Orym said as calmly as he could, moving a little closer to Dorian, now that he knew the source of his distress and was reasonably sure that being within arm’s reach wouldn’t cause a bad reaction. “Like I said, you’re not the first person to ever throw up at one of these things. Some people are actually into that.”
“I don’t think he was,” Dorian replied miserably. “I definitely wasn’t.”
“And well, maybe he deserved it for going too fast,” Orym continued. “It’s important to check in on boundaries, especially if you’re with someone new.”
Dorian seemed to absorb this information, sucking on his orange slice with a far away look in his eyes.
"Is it always like that?" he asked after a little while, soft enough that at first Orym wasn't sure he'd heard correctly.
"Well, the tone varies. It depends on what scenes are planned each night and who shows up. Sometimes it's almost more of a body art exhibition or a series of performances. I won't say the orgy is rare but…"
"No, I didn't mean that part." Dorian's face was still blotchy, and Orym wasn't sure how much of that was lingering stress and how much was embarrassment, but he promised himself not to react to whatever the next words out of Dorian's mouth were. "I meant the – the blowjob part."
Oh, no. Orym very carefully schooled himself into a complete sense of calm. It was fine. Lots of people gave their first blowjob at an orgy, right?
"Not in my experience," he said once he trusted his voice not to crack. "It depends on the situation and who it's with. Did you get a name?"
He was fishing, but he wanted to make sure that whatever had happened was addressed and didn't happen again, and Dorian didn't seem to have caught on to the fact that something had gone wrong during the process, even if it was just a miscommunication and someone wildly overestimating how experienced the genasi was.
"No, I just…was in a room with some strangers and picked the one with the biggest dick."
Orym was glad he hadn’t been drinking anything, because while he definitely understood the impulse, something about having it said like that, in such a sweetly overwrought voice, would have absolutely triggered a spit take, especially since it was not uncommon at all for these parties to include goliaths and orcs in attendance. As it was, he was digging the thumb of his left hand into the fleshy part of his right palm to keep himself from saying something stupid – something like any of the things that were currently working their way through his brain. He just hoped Fearne would recognize the description of ‘guy with the biggest dick’ so she could arrange to have a one on one conversation with him about making sure to check in on newbies before throat fucking them, even if this did sound a lot like an honest mistake.
“Yeah, I think a lot of people probably think that at first,” he finally said. “That’s why it’s so important to communicate in these places.”
“But the air genasi in porn always can just do it, and you know everyone says since we don’t need to breathe, we’re supposed to be so good at deepthroating. And I know porn isn’t real, but…people have to think that for a reason, right?”
Orym didn’t want to admit to knowing exactly what kinds of videos that meant Dorian was watching, and he was right that it was a pretty common subgenre of porn. Almost any scene featuring an air genasi was likely to feature an extended deepthroating sequence showcasing their natural ability to not breathe. Much the same way any video with a halfling was going to feature a cumshot due to their (apparent) fertility. It wasn’t something Orym had ever thought that much about, but now…
“Those actors have to work really hard at learning to do that,” he said at last. “Not needing to breathe won’t make your throat bigger. Sometimes things just…don’t fit.”
Dorian sniffled but didn’t respond, and Orym hoped that he wasn’t feeling too chastened. He really wasn’t trying to make the younger man feel bad – he just wanted to make sure that he was safe and taken care of.
“It’s going to be okay, Dorian,” Orym said as kindly as he could manage. “Giving blowjobs gets easier with experience, and now you have a better idea of what you want for next time you come to one of these things – if you decide to come back, anyway. And I’m sure your mom is wrong about you being an actor. And your brother was wrong about how you play flute.”
That earned him a (slightly tearful) giggle and a smile. “Thanks, Orym. You’re a really good listener.” Dorian glanced up at him and then down to his hands again. “Can I have another orange slice?”
Orym held out the open container towards the genasi again and let Dorian pick another slice of fruit. At the sight of the little grateful smile from Dorian, he tried to shove down the little voice in his head that said it was a little weird that this was his favorite part of these parties. He just liked making sure that people were safe and happy, and that was so important at kink events. It was a way for him to stay involved in the community whether he felt like doing scenes or not, and it suited his personality to be able to have these little one on one conversations with people instead of needing to worry about groups all the time.
Anyway, all things considered, he’d take an overwhelmed college student over some of the people he’d had to counsel during Fearne’s parties. Dorian seemed to have just honestly miscalculated his boundaries and been embarrassed about it. Fearne would need to have a conversation with whoever he’d been with later, and once Dorian had calmed down some, Orym would explain the importance of the buddy system at kink events. While Dorian had so far been very careful about taking drinks from a stranger and only accepting the orange slices once Orym had eaten some himself, even if things had all gone according to his plan, he still would have been at the mercy of someone else to help him if he’d needed help after sex. That would have put him in a very vulnerable position with someone who he evidently hadn’t vetted all that well ahead of time. Orym really didn’t like the idea of how vulnerable the other man had let himself be with a room full of strangers. It was probably a good thing that he’d just thrown up and had to leave the scene, because as much as Dorian didn’t like it, it had kept him safe.
“Feeling better?” Orym asked now that Dorian wasn’t sniffling as much and seemed to have relaxed back into his body.
“Yeah. Thanks again for sitting with me.”
“Don’t mention it. Nobody should be sad at a party.”
“You’re a really nice person,” Dorian continued, offering Orym a shy smile that he returned gladly.
He liked making people feel good, and the genasi in particular was gorgeous when he smiled. Orym always had been a sucker for a pretty guy, and he probably shouldn’t linger on how pretty the man in front of him was. Dorian was almost all leg, long limbs splayed around him like a marionette about to be pulled into action by an unseen force. He tried not to feel too awkward about appreciating the view, given the circumstances. Dorian was obviously attractive, and he’d obviously dressed to be looked at. At this point, it was more of an aesthetic appreciation than anything inherently sexual. Dorian was just beautiful, and Orym didn’t find it any hardship to spend time looking at him.
“Can I suck your dick?” Dorian’s voice interjecting into Orym’s mostly platonic thoughts was so incongruous that it actually took him a moment to decide if he’d heard what he thought he did or if he’d just briefly blacked out.
“What?” he asked even as his brain caught up with what Dorian had said.
“Can I suck your dick?” Dorian repeated, a little calmer now, as though the last proposition had been a rehearsal and now he was ready for the performance.
“Why?” Orym asked. “You don’t have to do that.”
“No, I know. It wasn’t – I mean, I am grateful, but that’s not – I came here to get laid and I was actually looking forward to giving a blowjob since I’ve never…” Dorian took a deep breath. “I just – I’d like to do it and you’re nice and cute and I want to. If you – if you’d be into that.”
This seemed like a situation that was very carefully crafted to test Orym’s ability to turn something down, but no sooner had he registered the temptation, than it occurred to him that he didn’t actually have a reason to say no. He didn’t date a lot, but he’d certainly dated over the last few years. He’d had sex over the last few years – hell, he’d had sex with people he met at parties over the last few years. Dorian was certainly naive and a little inexperienced, but he was also very much an adult who could make his own decisions about his sexual experiences. He was certainly older than Orym had been when he’d gotten married. Orym was completely entitled to give an enthusiastic yes if he wanted to, and he wanted to – so why was his first impulse to refuse?
That was probably a thought to unpack later, really – when he didn’t have a gorgeous genasi looking at him quite so eagerly for his answer.
“Yeah,” he said finally before he could second-guess himself. “If you’re sure, I’d – I’m interested.”
Dorian sat up a little straighter and his smile got even wider and more radiant somehow, like Orym had done him a huge favor by saying yes to oral sex with him. It was a very nearly unbelievable experience to climb to his feet and hold out a hand for Dorian, watching the genasi unfold to almost twice Orym’s height (shit) and move toward the Adirondak chairs pushed back against the side of the house. Usually, Orym sat in these chairs if Fearne was having people over for a regular party, or the two of them would sit out drinking and watching the stars. Now, he was being pushed back into one far enough that he had to spread his legs and brace his feet almost against the arms of the chair as Dorian hovered over him with starlight blue eyes glowing down at him with excitement.
Dorian's confidence belied the level of experience Orym knew he had here. The other man had definitely practiced this part, at least, and that was hot all on its own. Orym could imagine him watching videos and studying the way the actors would slide their hands up a partner's thighs and the way they'd lick their lips. He could see in his mind's eye how Dorian had probably sat in front of a mirror making sure his face was the right level of eager in preparation for this moment when he was pulling Orym's athletic leggings down over his hips and out of the way.
The whole thing felt like a dream. The sudden change in Dorian’s temperament from awkward to sexy had taken Orym’s breath away. Somehow even the streaked mascara on his face just accentuated how lovely Dorian looked. It seemed like a fantasy come to life, and Orym was so focused on looking at him that he was almost surprised to find he was hard when his dick sprang free of its confines into the cool air.
“Shit,” he gasped, drawing Dorian’s eyes back to his face again.
“This is nice,” Dorian said in a breathless voice, putting one hand on Orym’s hip and drawing the fingers of his other hand up Orym’s length slowly. “This is a nice size.”
“I think you’re trying to kill me,” Orym said before he could second-guess it. Dorian was possibly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and his whole body was alight with proximity to him.
Dorian flashed a brilliant smile, pressing just a little further into Orym’s space. “Now, where would be the fun in that?”
And then Orym’s soul left his body as he felt Dorian’s breath engulf him. The genasi wasted no time in sliding his mouth down over Orym’s length in one swift movement. No sooner was Orym fully seated in Dorian’s mouth than he felt his companion tense around him in an extremely distinctive way. Orym’s hands flew to Dorian’s head, quickly pulling him back before he gagged again. Dorian’s whole demeanor had changed again, now looking miserable and a little bit sick.
“You have got to learn to slow down,” Orym said as kindly as he could manage, petting Dorian's hair. “It’s not going anywhere, you can take your time.”
“Sorry,” Dorian replied, wiping saliva from his lips on the back of his hand. “I can keep going, if you want.”
As cute as Orym thought Dorian was, and as tempting as the offer had initially been, he was definitely not in the mood after Dorian made himself gag again. “I’m good, thanks. Are you gonna be okay?”
Dorian nodded and Orym quickly tucked himself away with one hand and petted Dorian’s hair 'comfortingly with the other, letting Dorian lean into the touch and hoping it was grounding. For his part, Dorian did a remarkable impression of a beloved cat, ending up still kneeling in front of Orym with his eyes closed and his head resting on the arm of the chair while Orym petted him. For a minute, the halfling thought he might have even started to doze.
“Thank you. S’nice,” Dorian murmured. “Can I give you a handjob, at least?”
“Maybe next time,” Orym hedged. At this point, he didn’t think Dorian really needed to focus on anyone but himself. “Do you have a ride home?”
“I was gonna crash here,” Dorian replied without opening his eyes. “Fearne said there’d be a place if I wanted. I have a bag with my coat.”
Orym swore under his breath. He had a feeling he knew what that meant.
“Come on, go get your bag. You can crash on my couch, I just live next door.”
Dorian made a vaguely affirmative noise and let Orym bully him upright, only wobbling a little on their way to the coat room Fearne had set up off the hallway. Thankfully, nobody paid too much attention to Orym guiding the drowsy genasi with mascara tears on his face. This wouldn't be the first time someone had needed to leave a party early and ended up sleeping on Orym's couch as a result. At least Dorian wasn't concussed, high, or actively having a panic attack, unlike some of his prior overnight guests.
He let them both into his home, directing Dorian to the bathroom to change into his pajamas while Orym made up the pull-out couch for his guest, piling spare pillows and a quilt on it and digging through his box of items that Ashton and Opal had abandoned on their own prior sleepovers until he had everything he needed. Speaking of, Opal wasn't at this party, but he'd need to text Ash to let them know the couch was already claimed. Orym had seen FCG manning the bowl of condoms and ensuring nobody slipped anything into the drinks in the kitchen, which usually meant Ash would be making better decisions than if they'd shown up alone, but there was still no telling with the earth genasi sometimes. He had just enough time to shoot off a text to the group chat and let them know he had company before Dorian emerged from the bathroom looking a little better than before.
Dorian had changed into a soft looking gray sweater over a pair of loose leggings with an abstract pattern in sunset tones. He'd also seemingly splashed some water on his face to get the worst of the mascara off, but Orym could still see it gathered under his eyes, as well. He took in the sight of the bed with something like relief on his face and quickly sat down on the edge of it.
"This is so kind," Dorian said. "Thank you for taking care of me tonight."
"Don't mention it," Orym replied, tucking his phone into the pocket of his own sweater and returning to Dorian's side.
He brought over a half-empty container of makeup wipes that he was pretty sure belonged to Opal and offered them to Dorian, who gratefully accepted, taking one and scrubbing his face again, somehow still missing most of the remaining mascara.
"Here," Orym said, taking out another makeup wipe and holding it up.
Dorian immediately acquiesced, setting his hands on his knees and closing his eyes to allow Orym to gently wipe the remaining makeup off his eyes, only opening them again once Orym took both the towelettes and tossed them in the wastebasket.
Now that Dorian's face was clean, Orym grabbed the wide tooth comb he'd brought over and showed it to Dorian for approval, waiting for the other man to nod before climbing up on the bed behind him and slowly working his way through the tangles. Whoever Dorian had attempted to fuck earlier in the night had been none too gentle with the waist length ombre hair, which was a damn shame. Dorian had really gorgeous hair that was clearly well taken care of and that felt like silk in Orym's fingers. He also obviously enjoyed having it combed, and seemed to relax visibly the higher up the length Orym worked. By the time he was running the comb through the whole length from his scalp, he thought Dorian could be blown away in a stiff breeze, swaying into every swipe of the comb.
Orym kept brushing Dorian's hair long past the point he really needed to – not that he had really needed to, except that he enjoyed making sure Dorian felt good. A voice in his head that sounded a lot like Fearne's was reminding him that just because he didn't get off to something didn't mean it wasn't a fetish. Hell, Opal's only job right now was meeting a guy at an ATM once a week, demanding his card, taking out however much she wanted, and then not talking to him again until the next time. Which was apparently a legitimate thing some men were into and not, as Orym had initially feared, a felony. In the grand scheme of things, wanting to take care of other people wasn't really that strange. He just liked knowing that his people were safe and looked after, and besides, Dorian really had lovely hair. If anything, it was a privilege to get to play with it for so long.
"Do you put it up, braid it, or leave it loose at night?" Orym asked once he couldn't reasonably keep brushing Dorian's hair anymore.
Dorian made a small ‘hmm’ noise as though he hadn't heard Orym, but maybe he'd just been on the verge of dozing because before Orym could ask again he was responding. "I usually braid it, but you don't have to–"
"I don't mind. Just relax, it'll only be a little longer."
Orym was an expert braider. He had three sisters and Will had always had long hair. Orym had the smallest fingers of the five and was the only one who never needed his hair done. He had spent most of his formative years being called on to braid any number of elaborate hairstyles, which was a skill that had always served him well when he wanted to ingratiate himself to a person with longer hair. It was working for Dorian, anyway, and the genasi was swaying softly and making sweet little sighs of pleasure as Orym worked his fingers through the hair on his scalp, braiding the loose strands into a single plait that ran from the crown of his head, down his back. He finished the braid with a bright pink velour scrunchy Opal had embellished with little crystals in a floral pattern and then forgot at his house for the last six months.
When he was done, he flopped the end of the braid over Dorian's shoulder for inspection and climbed down off the bed. Dorian was stroking Opal's scrunchy affectionately and looking far more centered than he had all night.
"There," Orym said to break the mood between them just enough to be able to leave Dorian on his couch. "All done. Need anything else before I go?"
"No," Dorian said in a slightly dazed voice. "I'm okay. I can sleep."
"Good. I'll leave you to it, then. Sleep well, Dorian."
"Goodnight, Orym."
It took a surprising amount of mental effort to step away from Dorian and head to his own room. This wasn't the first person Orym had helped prepare for bed after a party, and this wasn't even the first time he'd been struck with the urge to kiss one of them, but something about Dorian kept drawing Orym in when his instincts and his routine said he should pull away. It probably didn't matter in the grand scheme of things – he doubted Dorian would be back at another party anytime soon, but even if he was…kissable lips and starlight colored eyes didn't make a relationship, and Orym would do well to remember that.
Dorian couldn't say that any of his expectations had been met last night, all things considered. He'd still had a good time, at least. Well, after he almost threw up the second time had been nice. He'd always liked having his hair played with, and it had been so long since someone else brushed it for him – and he didn’t think anyone else had ever spent as long petting his hair as Orym had. Waking up on a stranger’s sofa hadn’t been exactly how he’d planned things to go, but honestly, it was probably a good thing that he’d agreed.
Puking on that orc’s dick had been humiliating enough, but then he’d almost thrown up on a halfling and he really felt like even as someone who’d never sucked a dick before, he probably should have been able to handle that. Granted, Orym’s cock had been larger than he’d expected (he hadn’t ever seen a halfling’s erect penis before, except in the occasional porn, and hadn’t had much of a reason to think about it). He thought he might have been okay if his body hadn’t already been primed to be sick from earlier, though. Or maybe he was just that bad at blowjobs. Orym had said something about needing to go slower, so next time he’d try that. He had wanted to hurry up to the good part, but maybe there was a reason for more foreplay aside from just to tease. Next time he’d do better.
He sighed and rolled over to face the window. The sun was coming in through a window and illuminating Orym’s living room in such a pleasant way that Dorian couldn’t help but want to stay in the bed a little longer. Orym’s home was so much nicer than Dorian’s. For one thing, Cyrus wasn’t here, which meant there were no sounds of video games coming through the walls to wake him up. There also wasn’t the accumulated clutter of his and Cyrus’ lives on every flat surface – no school books and instruments strewn about, no stray glasses left on the end table, no chair full of discarded coats. Orym kept a tidy house, and Dorian was enjoying just being invited inside of it. It felt so worldly to wake up in a stranger’s bed, even if it was just a pull-out sofa and he was in it by himself.
These were the kinds of stories that his new friends always told and that he’d always wanted to have, the kinds of things that he thought normal people did. People whose parents didn’t have a family estate full of portraits of great-great-great-great-grandparents and furniture older than anyone currently living there. They were also the kinds of stories he knew he’d never be allowed to have at home, and he wanted to make sure he was able to have those experiences now, before he had to go home and get married to whoever his parents had chosen for him. He didn’t want to think about that right now, though. He was in too good a mood to think about the future today. Right now, he was in the home of a cute guy who he had been too much of a mess to make a proper move on last night, and he owed it to his future self to rectify that.
He wondered what he could do to be most appealing whenever Orym made an appearance. The halfling had seemed at least a little interested in Dorian’s hair last night – at least interested enough to spend about half an hour altogether with his hands in it in some capacity. Dorian still had his hair up in the braid Orym had put it in the night before, so he sat up and slid the scrunchy off the end of the braid and onto his wrist, letting his hair fall free around his shoulders. He wondered if Orym would think he was sexier if he stayed lying down or if he should be sitting up. Or should he walk around like he hadn’t been waiting? There were so many options, he wasn’t sure how to choose.
Dorian thought he could hear Orym moving around in the bedroom, and it occurred to him that Orym was trying to be polite and let him sleep. Gods, he would be the best one night stand ever. Dorian got to his feet and started folding the blankets he’d slept in the night before, shaking them out straight and generally making no effort to disguise that he was awake in case Orym was waiting for him. Once he’d folded the blankets, he made a circuit of the living room.
Orym apparently wasn’t the sort of person to keep a lot of clutter. There were some books (mostly historical novels), a few little trinkets that he assumed were sentimental, and some photos. Dorian had never pretended not to be nosy, and it wasn’t like he had much choice of entertainment here. Most of the pictures were of Orym with friends or family. A few had people he thought he recognized from the night before, which just solidified Dorian’s feeling of safety, because he knew enough about those sorts of parties to know that Orym had to have a good reputation if he was friends with people who attended them.
Other pictures, though, were Orym with people that Dorian had never seen before. These pictures were different. While the ones with the people Dorian recognized were inside homes and at restaurants, most of the others were outside. Photos at the tops of mountains, or deep in the woods. It took him a few pictures to recognize a half-elf in most of these outdoor pictures. Probably an ex or a good friend – Dorian really wasn’t in a position to be jealous of a man who was essentially a stranger. He kept following the pictures as he heard Orym moving around in the other room, finding a few of Orym and the half-elf kissing, Orym on his lap, the half-elf leaning over the railing of a boat. This had clearly been a long term relationship of some importance, and Dorian was a little curious as to why Orym still had all these pictures. His heart was already starting to sink to his stomach when he stumbled on one that stole his breath. Orym and the half-elf in matching suits standing at the center of what was clearly a wedding party. That was Orym’s husband. Orym was married.
His snooping (and the impending doom-spiral) was interrupted by the sound of a door opening behind him, and he spun to face Orym, feeling exactly like a child who had been caught with his fingers in the cookie jar.
“Good morning,” Dorian said as cheerfully as he could manage, all things considered. “Did you sleep well?”
“I think I should be asking you that,” Orym said with a handsome smile that made Dorian want to do stupid things. “But since you asked, I slept well.”
“Oh. Me, too.”
“Were you looking at the pictures?” Orym asked casually, walking over to where Dorian was standing blocking a row of shelves.
“No.” Dorian cringed at himself for the reflexive lie. It wasn’t a good one, and it wasn't as though these were private photos in a drawer – they were on a shelf in his living room! “Yes. I just woke up and had a look around. I wasn’t snooping.”
“It’s fine, it’s not like I hid them.” Orym stretched up to pluck one of the photos of the half-elf off the wall and looked at it before setting it back. “That’s Will, my late husband.”
Dorian felt a little like he’d been punched in the solar plexus with that statement, the wind knocked out of him completely. Orym had been married. Orym’s husband was dead. And now Dorian was here in his living room after having had his mouth on his dick the night before.
“Oh,” he managed to force out. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Was it recent?”
Orym shrugged, and Dorian was enough of a liar to recognize an avoidant gesture when he saw one.
“It’s been six years. It was before I even moved to the city,” Orym replied too evenly. “What about you? What brought you here?”
Dorian had never been happier to accept a change of topic in his life. “I came for school. You know, my parents weren’t completely approving of my life choices, so it had to wait until I got my trust fund so I could pay for it myself.”
“Yeah? How old does that make you?”
Dorian didn’t really know how to feel about that question, but then it wasn’t like he was trying to hide that. “I’m twenty-five?”
Orym almost seemed relieved by that information, his shoulders sagging just a little and he exhaled, glancing around the room before settling back on Dorian.
“Are you hungry?” Orym asked. “I could make breakfast.”
Dorian couldn’t help himself. He was a simple man, and he’d had a goal in mind last night when he went to that party. His eyes immediately darted to Orym’s crotch before he could stop himself. Orym had noticed, too, if the way he blushed pink and looked right at Dorian’s face meant anything.
“I could eat?” Dorian replied, feeling himself flush violet as well. And then Orym grabbed his arm, yanked him to the floor, and kissed him hard.
From there, Dorian lost track. Somehow, they ended up naked on the floor in front of the couch, but he’d have had a hard time explaining how. He was far too focused on the sight of Orym’s cock directly in front of his face. Now that he had a good look at it in the halogen light of day, Dorian was rethinking his confidence of the night before. He'd never actually seen a halfling naked before outside of porn and he was smart enough not to expect that to be the reality he'd be confronted with – which, in fairness, Orym's cock wasn't quite porn star level, but he was either fairly well endowed for a halfling and hadn't mentioned it, or Dorian needed to reevaluate the stereotypes he’d had his whole life, because Orym was not small. Or at least, he wasn’t as small as Dorian had assumed. His cock wasn’t as long as Dorian’s – maybe three and a half inches – but it was at least as thick around and had a beautifully wide, flared mushroom head that Dorian just wanted to run his tongue around and feel inside him.
With some difficulty, he ripped his eyes off the beautiful cock in front of him and turned them back towards Orym’s face. The halfling was staring down at him with eyes blown black with lust and his full lips parted. Dorian thought he must be a pretty picture down here with Orym’s cock so close to his face. He gingerly stuck the tip of his tongue out and dragged it around the flared rim of Orym’s cock while maintaining eye contact. He wanted to see how much Orym liked him, how good he was doing.
Orym bit his lip and swore, and Dorian felt it straight down his spine. He wanted so much to be wanted, and Orym’s reaction just drove him forward. He wrapped his lips around the head of Orym’s cock and sucked, sliding his lips down the length of it until he felt the wide head press against the back of his tongue, and then suddenly there were fingers in his hair and Orym was pulling him back off. Dorian whimpered in protest as the spongy flesh caught on his lips and then was pulled out of his grasp.
“Stop that,” Orym said firmly, holding Dorian still by his hair in a way that made Dorian’s dick twitch in his pants. “You’re going to choke yourself again.”
Dorian wanted to respond, to insist that he wasn’t going to gag and was in fact desperate to keep going, but he found that all higher thought had fled and the closest thing to words he was able to muster was a needy whine as he stretched his tongue out to dart across the top of Orym’s cock. Orym shuddered again and then tugged Dorian’s hair again until he was completely out of reach of the object of his attention.
“Hey, look at me, precious thing,” Orym said firmly, putting a hand on Dorian’s chin to force his eyes up. “If you really want to do this, you’re going to do it my way. Alright?”
Dorian nodded, but when Orym didn’t release his chin he realized he would be expected to speak. “Yes. Sir.”
The sir was entirely on impulse, but felt right in the moment and a delightful expression on Orym’s face made him know it had been a good choice. The halfling’s eyes slammed shut and he bit his lip like he was in pain, but the quickening of his breath told Dorian he was in anything but.
When Orym’s eyes opened, there was a fire there that set Dorian on edge in the best way as Orym leaned forward, and Dorian found himself being dragged backwards by his hair until he was flat on the floor with Orym perched across his hips.
“You need to learn what you’re doing,” Orym said firmly. "Stay still, alright? Just tell me if I need to stop."
Dorian nodded, preparing for Orym to crawl back up his body and fuck his face (eagerly anticipating it, actually) but instead he watched as Orym crawled down his body and tugged his underwear down. Dorian angled his hips to help as Orym stripped him quickly and wrapped one of his smaller hands around Dorian's larger cock. He gasped, needing the feel of air in his lungs to keep him in the moment as Orym stroked him slowly, staring at his face the whole time.
"You have to start slow," Orym said in a voice that for some reason just made Dorian think of his old music instructor in a weirdly good way.
Before he could think too hard on that comparison, Orym was licking across the tip of his cock with the flat of his tongue and Dorian's soul began to leave his body. He lost track of what Orym was doing – it was like he was outside of his body, watching himself from above as Orym licked and worked his length.
It didn't take more than a minute for him to be squirming and pleading for more, but instead, Orym pulled away, and it took all of Dorian's willpower to return to his body long enough to comprehend the words being spoken to him with Orym's hand still on his cock and his breath ghosting across his flesh.
"You have to warm yourself up," Orym said. "Let yourself breathe."
Dorian nodded in acknowledgement, not trusting his voice yet, and apparently that was enough for Orym, because then his lips were on the head of Dorian's cock again and sliding down his length, and for one brilliant moment, Dorian forgot to breathe.
He tangled his fingers in his own hair to keep himself from floating away in bliss as Orym worked his hand up and down Dorian's length while bobbing his on what he could fit in his mouth. Dimly, Dorian wondered if a halfling cock would be uncomfortable for a halfling to suck on, since Dorian knew his mouth was wider than Orym's and he'd been full enough before. He couldn't follow that train of thought much further, though, as Orym chose that moment to move his free hand to cup Dorian's balls, which caused him to jolt like he'd been hit with an electric shock. He was rapidly losing track of what this lesson was supposed to even be about. His whole world had shrunk to encompass the spit-slick friction of Orym's hands and mouth as the halfling teased him closer and closer to the edge.
He wasn't going to last much longer, and he didn't think he could have stopped if he wanted to. He used one hand to try to push on Orym's head, a warning of what was to come. Instead of moving, though, this gesture only seemed to encourage, and Dorian felt his whole body tighten with tension until suddenly he was shoved bodily off the cliff and every muscle he had released all at once as he spilled into Orym's warm, wet mouth.
It took a moment for Dorian to come to his senses, but when he could see straight again, he was suddenly extremely aware of the smug smile on Orym’s face as the other man looked down at him like he was proud of himself for what he’d done. In fairness, he probably should be proud of it – Dorian had never felt anything like that before in his life. Granted, he wasn’t exactly the most experienced person out there, but he’d spent more than his fair share of time exploring his own body, both with and without silicone assistance, and he’d never felt anything like that before.
“Good?” Orym asked him in a fond sounding voice.
“Very.” Dorian’s voice was breathy even to his own ears, but he couldn’t feel self-conscious about it with the way desire was still thrumming softly in his blood and Orym’s hard cock still hanging between his thighs like forbidden fruit.
But then, it wasn’t forbidden, was it? Hadn’t that been the purpose of all of this? That Dorian was allowed to touch and taste and experiment? Orym had promised he’d teach him what to do, and now that his demonstration was over…
“My turn?” Dorian asked, looking pointedly between Orym’s legs. For his part, Orym almost looked surprised to be reminded of his own pressing arousal, following Dorian’s line of sight like he was unsure of what he’d find when he got there, like the blush-pink hardness and the mushroom cap head were something he hadn’t expected to see. “You promised.” Dorian punctuated this reminder by stretching out languidly in a way he knew made him look sexy.
“Yeah.” Orym swallowed like he wished he could take the word back, but instead slid forward and dipped his head to press a kiss to Dorian’s collarbone. “If you want, it can be your turn.”
“You’re supposed to be teaching me,” Dorian whispered. “Remember?
He felt Orym groan against him, and then begin to move away. Dorian’s first instinct was to grab for him, but he fought the urge and let him go. Soon, Orym was seated in front of him again, looking on high alert, but his eyes never left Dorian the whole time, and Dorian was enamored. He propped himself up on his elbows and watched Orym, waiting patiently for the other man to pat his knee and gesture him forward. Dorian followed immediately when beckoned, carefully calculating his movements to be as alluring as possible as he shuffled forward on his knees and knelt in front of Orym, waiting for his next instruction.
Instead, Orym reached out and tangled his fingers through loose strands of Dorian’s hair, examining it as though there was some mystery he could solve by staring at it for long enough. Durian let him stare as long as he liked. He enjoyed the attention and he wanted to do whatever Orym needed here. He got the sense that as much as Dorian was desperate to do this, it meant something to Orym.
“Here,” Orym said at last, drawing Dorian towards him until he was close enough that Orym was able to get his fingers through the whole of his hair.
Dorian could feel Orym drawing his hair back and up, the small fingers running through the length of it until it was piled at the top of Dorian’s head with Orym’s fingers holding it in place and giving him leverage to guide Dorian’s head experimentally, and Dorian let himself be led back and forth and turned left and right until Orym was satisfied that this would hold and that Dorian was into it.
“Is this okay?” Orym asked.
“Very,” Dorian replied. He’d had his hair pulled a few times before by hookups and it always riled him up. And besides, none of them had ever used the teacher voice Orym was using with him, and that was really working for him. “Will you show me what to do?”
Orym groaned and nodded, using his grip on Dorian’s hair to pull him forward again. “Remember, start slow.”
Dorian nodded as well as he could with Orym’s fingers in his hair, and waited eagerly for Orym to thrust up into his mouth. Instead, he was gently guided down until the head of Orym’s cock was just brushing his lips and no further, forcing him to be the one to part his lips and suck the head of it into his mouth. Orym let out a strangled groan that turned into a sigh as Dorian bobbed his head up and down as much as he was able with his limited range of movement. The size of him was a nice mouthful at this proximity, enough to stretch his lips pleasantly and weigh heavily on his tongue but not enough yet to risk his soft palate. He could taste the salty warmth of Orym’s prespend spreading across his tongue. It was delicious and addictive, and Dorian didn’t think he’d get enough of it.
His instinct was to push down further, chasing more of the taste of Orym to see if he tasted as delectable further down. Instead, he was held firm by Orym’s grip on his hair and limited to the first third of him. It was frustrating and arousing, and Dorian registered his protest with a moan around Orym’s cock that had the halfling hissing between clenched teeth.
“Are you ready for more, baby?” Orym asked, his voice husky in a way that made Dorian feel so proud of himself. Dorian could only nod and hum, drawing another whimper from Orym. “If I give you more, are you going to choke yourself again?”
Dorian groaned and moved his head from side to side around Orym’s cock. He could feel the tension in Orym’s arm release as he pushed Dorian’s head down just a little bit more, pushing and pulling until Dorian fell into a comfortable rhythm where he couldn’t gag. It was easier like this, where all he was focused on was Orym and what he wanted, and he could just focus on the taste and feel of him and adjusting to this foreign intrusion. He was able to use his hand to guide the angle of Orym’s cock and lose himself in the sensation of it. He only had about two thirds of Orym’s total length in his mouth, and he thought for sure he could handle the whole thing, but Orym still hadn’t allowed him this last bit. He pulled against Orym’s hold a few times, but then Orym’s free hand was stroking through the loose strands of hair at the back of his neck, and the halfling was speaking to him in low tones.
“Careful, precious. Use your hand, instead.”
Dorian wasn’t sure if he thought using his hand would be as satisfying, but for this first time, maybe he could be patient. Next time, he would make a point of ruining Orym with just his mouth, but this time, he wrapped his hand around the base of Orym where he couldn’t reach and continued losing himself in the taste of Orym. He was completely lost in the experience of it when he felt Orym pull on his hair with a startling urgency. Dorian was so surprised by this sudden change of demeanor he followed direction, and was on the verge of asking what he’d done wrong when suddenly Orym’s free hand was on his own cock and he was pumping frantically, spilling onto his own stomach in front of Dorian’s eyes, hot and heavy and so much of it.
“Hey!” Dorian said sharply, affronted at being forbidden from this. “You could have just asked me. I’d have said yes.”
Orym shook his head, looking like words might be beyond him for a few breaths before he finally spoke. “Not your first time. Didn’t – didn’t want you to get sick again.”
Dorian wanted to argue, but he thought Orym was right – it might have caused him to gag again, and maybe it was best not to risk it while he was still getting the hang of this.
“Fine,” Dorian said, sitting back on his heels. “But next time you have to let me.”
Orym nodded in agreement before his eyes snapped into focus and landed on Dorian’s face again. “Next time?”
Dorian fluttered his eyelashes at Orym coyly and bit his lip in a way he thought was cute. “You didn’t think this was the last you were going to see of me, did you? Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”
“No, no!” Orym said quickly “Of course I – I’d love to see you again.”
Dorian didn’t know how to explain the way that made his heart flutter, so instead he diverted. “Great! You’re an excellent teacher, you know, and I just have so much more to learn.”
He thought Orym might choke on his own tongue as red as his face flushed, but it wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t the whole truth – not yet, anyway – but it wasn’t a lie. He thought he might really enjoy seeing what else Orym had to show him.