maskormenacelogs | this is entirely all dorian's fault

WHO: Dorian Gray & Tobias Matthews
WHERE: their apartment
WHEN: smack dab during the middle of a Dorian & Will thread that I'll link to later when I'm not lazy
WHAT: Will Graham has way too much fun with a magical portrait, Dorian suffers, Toby stops himself from saying 'I told you so.'
WARNINGS: silliness.

The problem with having a magical portrait that takes on the sins and traces of age is that sometimes it goes both ways. If he stabs the portrait, then Dorian himself is stabbed. If someone brands the portrait, then Dorian receives a brand. Granted, that latter part can go away if Dorian gets the portrait restored--a magical painting is still a painting and with the advent of modern technology, fixing things like that is so much easier than it was before.

Needless to say, Dorian didn't know the full symbiotic lengths he had with his portrait. Now, he was discovering something new. To make a long story short, Will Graham (that shitheel, Dorian disliked that man more every minute) had a hold of his portrait. He thought that a grand way to bother Dorian was to submerge the thing halfway in water.

It's a weird situation. The top half of Dorian looks perfectly fine, perfectly normal, the sort of 'I woke up like this' perfection that most would associate him with. The bottom half? Chilled to the bone, dripping wet despite the fact that there's not any water around. His pants cling to him like he just jumped into a pool, his shoes had been taken off in order to dry, leaving his feet clad just in socks, and he's just cold. The temperature in the apartment's comfortable, it's just that when the lower half of your body feels like it's constantly submerged in ice water, you're pretty damn freezing.

So, when Toby enters the main room, he'll find Dorian, sitting on the floor (he's not going to give the couch water damage, after all), wrapped up in a large assortment of blankets and sulking.

"That apologizing idea isn't working, by the way."

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Sleepily shuffling into the living room, Toby pays little mind to the sound of shuffling on the floor. It's only as he pads along toward the telly and his video games that he notices Dorian sitting on the floor. He pauses and stares in an attempt to understand the situation, though it thankfully isn't long before Dorian comments. A couple seconds tick by uneventfully before Toby is able to fully process Dorian's meaning.

"...Ah. In other words, apology not accepted, then? Why, does he know you don't actually mean it?"

Because Toby honestly can't blame Will for not buying into it. Dorian's a liar, for crying out loud. And if not that, Dorian's not good at being sincere, not to mention he isn't really a man who apologises. In fact, many would question his capacity to repent or feel remorse.

"He does, doesn't he?"

Toby bites back the urge to make one more comment, just to hear Dorian's response. If Dorian confirms what Toby's thinking, then he'll go through with it. (It's highly possible Dorian will confirm what Toby's thinking...)

"Apology not accepted," Dorian replied, with a little sniff, as he burrowed further into the blankets. He's grumpy, he's miserable, he's soaking wet and he doesn't want to move.

He doesn't blame Will either. Dorian's a massive liar, the apology was obviously Dorian half-assing it in an attempt to get his portrait back, Will not believing it was smart.

"I apologized, we talked for a bit, I didn't antagonize him then, and he decided to antagonize me instead."

If he didn't have cold flesh, Toby might offer Dorian some warmth and comfort. The fact that he physically can't... disappoints him, to say the least. He frowns, then looks away, shakes his head, and sighs.

"Problem is you've antagonised him plenty before this." There he goes; it's his 'I told you so' statement. One that doesn't actually involve the words 'I told you so'. Still, the sentiment is there. "You can't have possibly expected immediate results..."

Could he? It is possible. After all, Dorian feels entitled to whatever he wants, no matter how much or how often others deny him. That's just the way he is.

Sighing, he adds, "Of course he'd take advantage of this opportunity."

Although the current situation is just pure nonsense, Toby can't help worrying things will escalate.

Dorian still remains a shivering immortal in a pile of blankets. He loves you Toby, but yeah, he's not moving any time soon.

"I knew this wasn't going to happen overnight. Rome wasn't build in a day, after all. But what I didn't expect was Graham being so petty!"

Because that's what this is: sheer pettiness. Why would he stick the portrait in water like this if he didn't want Dorian to suffer? Still, that little voice in Dorian's head points out that this is the kindest thing Will could do. He could stab the portrait, he could set it on fire, he could do any sort of thing to kill Dorian then and there. But he's choosing mild inconvenience.

"Oh, come on Dorian! Even he isn't immune to the temptation!"

His tone is somewhat playful as he moves to claim a spot on their empty sofa. But once he's seated, his amusement quickly fades, and worry seeps into his voice.

"Though really, this... inconvenience, it's only the beginning, isn't it? I mean, if you didn't see this coming, then how far is he going to go? What else is he going to do?"

"He's not going to kill me, that's for sure." He doesn't know why he's so certain. But Dorian knows he's 100% certain that no matter what Graham does, Will Graham isn't going to end this little tete a tete with outright murder of Dorian.

After all, Will's kept the cannibal secret (relatively) under wraps for so long. Dorian won't hesitate to blow it out of the water if Will decided to take drastic action.

"Honestly, I think he's just going to fuck with me until...I don't know, until he gets what he wants, whatever that is."

"Yeah? Well, that doesn't exactly make me feel better. I doubt you do, either."

How Dorian can maintain that sort of confidence, Toby isn't certain, but it makes him feel a little stronger inside.

"Should I ask him, then... what it is that he wants? I mean, maybe we're more likely to get straight answers if we do it that way..."

Oh, look at his beloved, shivering mass of Dorian sulking on the floor! Just the sight of him is difficult to bear!

"If you want to," Dorian simply responds, from the mess of blankets. "I didn't want you dragged into this for a reason. But now it looks like I don't really have a choice in the matter."

At least, of the matter of whether Toby wants to be a part of this mess or not. Because really? At the rate Dorian's fucked this up, Toby's going to be drawn into this sooner rather than later.

"He's not an idiot. Graham, that is. He knows that if I die or if something publicly horrible happens to me, questions will be asked, people will be curious, and that idyllic little life he's tried so hard to build up for himself will crash down in a moment's notice."

That's why Dorian's so confident.

After Dorian's response, there are a few moments of silence before Toby hums as he thinks.

"...You do have a point. In that case, I'll. Hm. Keep to myself, I think. Just a little longer, anyway."

Looking Dorian over, Toby can't help the pity in his expression.

"Is there... Is there anything I can do to help you right now?"

Perhaps toss him another blanket? Toby really doesn't seem sure... Maybe Dorian will want to play video games? If anything, it might get his mind off what's happening to the painting.

"Aside from throttling Will Graham?" Ha ha! It's a joke! It's certainly not something Dorian's kind of thinking of doing right here and now.

Seriously though, Toby thinks...and pauses, frowning as he shivers into the blankets.

"I don't know...maybe films or video games or something? I'm sure I'll still be rubbish no matter how many blankets I've got myself wrapped in."

Plus, it would be a bit therapeutic just to shoot enemy soldiers in the head and picture Will Graham's stupid beardy face on each of them.

Quietly, Toby rises from his place on the sofa. "You get yourself comfortable, I'll get some more bedding."

He goes to the linen closet to grab something thicker and wonders if Dorian's current condition would indeed ruin the couch. It's not as if the floor all around him is pooling with water, but it's hard to know exactly what could happen when it comes to the portrait.

It isn't long before he returns, tossing a nice down comforter to Dorian.

"Here you are. Let's get a movie on. Any requests?" Maybe something he'd like to rewatch, or that they could do a commentary on... Probably not anything that would get them into the mood, it'd be wasted on them so long as Dorian's painting is soaking.

Dorian looks at Toby with a look of pure bliss when Toby tosses the comforter to him. He just burrows EVEN FURTHER in the comforters, becoming more of a snuggly burrito.

At the requests, the mass of blankets that is Dorian lightly shrugs. "Something funny? Maybe some sort of classic funny movie—do we have any screwball comedies?"

this is entirely all dorian's fault

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