"I expect it has," responded Yuri with a smile, "which is precisely the reason I've asked."
Though it was far from the only reason.
Dorian—the Dorian Gray who sat with him in his home, that was—there were ways in which he seemed another person, separate from Oscar Wilde's Dorian. Where Oscar's Dorian was more emotional, Yuri's (that was rather a funny way of looking at the other man, wasn't it? as his?) was, for however transparent he could be at times, typically in control of himself and the face he presented the rest of the world with. (And that was a similarity he and his Dorian shared, though again, Yuri was not wanting to think of the similarities that might exist between himself and someone he was deliberating the need to punish.) In comparing the Dorian of the book with the man sitting next to him, Yuri also thought that they were different in the way they expressed their their love of things, at least that was how it seemed so far. Oscar's Dorian was much more vocal about his loves and fancies, sharing them with his friends and he was eager—almost unbearably so—for the approval of the company he kept, but his Dorian...
Well, there were times when Yuri thought that the younger looking man (and that was another thing, was he really as young as he looked?) wanted his approval, was even striving for it, but then there were times when he was convinced that Dorian only wanted him to think so.
"I would have to agree," said Yuri after he tugged his dish and drink toward himself and took a sip of milk. "He is very tenacious...but then, so are you. You're still here, after all. After the way I behaved earlier, if you were anything but, I think you would have gone. I'm sorry for that, by the way. I'm afraid I showed you a rather ugly side when you showed up unannounced, and there really wasn't any call for it."
He met Dorian's gaze and then leaned forward, resting his hand atop the other man's wrist. Squeezing lightly, he promised, "I'll read whatever you like. I want to know you—all about you, even the things you like."
no subject
Though it was far from the only reason.
Dorian—the Dorian Gray who sat with him in his home, that was—there were ways in which he seemed another person, separate from Oscar Wilde's Dorian. Where Oscar's Dorian was more emotional, Yuri's (that was rather a funny way of looking at the other man, wasn't it? as his?) was, for however transparent he could be at times, typically in control of himself and the face he presented the rest of the world with. (And that was a similarity he and his Dorian shared, though again, Yuri was not wanting to think of the similarities that might exist between himself and someone he was deliberating the need to punish.) In comparing the Dorian of the book with the man sitting next to him, Yuri also thought that they were different in the way they expressed their their love of things, at least that was how it seemed so far. Oscar's Dorian was much more vocal about his loves and fancies, sharing them with his friends and he was eager—almost unbearably so—for the approval of the company he kept, but his Dorian...
Well, there were times when Yuri thought that the younger looking man (and that was another thing, was he really as young as he looked?) wanted his approval, was even striving for it, but then there were times when he was convinced that Dorian only wanted him to think so.
"I would have to agree," said Yuri after he tugged his dish and drink toward himself and took a sip of milk. "He is very tenacious...but then, so are you. You're still here, after all. After the way I behaved earlier, if you were anything but, I think you would have gone. I'm sorry for that, by the way. I'm afraid I showed you a rather ugly side when you showed up unannounced, and there really wasn't any call for it."
He met Dorian's gaze and then leaned forward, resting his hand atop the other man's wrist. Squeezing lightly, he promised, "I'll read whatever you like. I want to know you—all about you, even the things you like."