Chapter Text
Stepping into their apartment felt like coming home for the first time in ages, and John breathed a sigh of relief as Dorian closed the door behind them. For the first time, them coming home together felt normal. He stretched, removing his holster and setting his gun down on the counter. He felt free, lighthearted, no burdens to carry, just for this moment.
Dorian stood, a few steps away from him, waiting.
John turned, looking at Dorian. There was something hesitant in the android’s eyes.
“Dorian – “
That was all the encouragement Dorian needed. He seemed to know what John wanted; he stepped forward with sure steps, closing the distance between the two of them before pressing together their bodies and their lips. He pulled John towards him, holding the human close at the hips, though still with a light embrace, and John didn’t resist.
It was different from the game of kiss-but-don’t-touch they’d had not so long ago. It was no longer the union of two people who share a kiss while otherwise separated by a wall. This time, John allowed Dorian to pull him close, to hold him, though Dorian’s grip remained gentle, with none of the insistence and possessiveness it had once had. John couldn’t say he missed it.
With the same gentle surety, Dorian guided John until the latter was pressed against the wall. That very familiar wall where it’d all started, but this time Dorian used it as a gentle support for John’s body rather than a means to hold him helpless.
John desperately pulled Dorian closer as they kissed, hands clawing at his jacket and attempting to disperse the non-existent space between them. And while Dorian’s hands were gentle, the kiss was wild and possessive, the desperate meeting of lips and tongues. John reveled in it, in the way that Dorian so gently took what he wanted.
“I need – oh god, I need,” John whispered, attempting to pull Dorian even closer. “I need to feel you.”
Without breaking the contact of their lips, Dorian deftly unzipped his jacket, letting it land on the floor before he began on John’s shirt. They parted for barely a few moments as Dorian dragged the offending article of clothing of John’s body and followed it with the T-shirt underneath.
“Off,” John insisted, as he tugged as the slim T-shirt Dorian wore under his jacket, and Dorian obeyed.
“Come here,” he ordered, and this time, finally, for the first time in forever it was skin against skin as they kissed. Their two bodies molded together after what felt like millennia of separation. He had missed Dorian’s body; not its smell or its human warmth or any other biological function that Dorian did not possess. No, he’d missed the strange, synthetic thing that was Dorian’s body, with its too-hot temperature, its perfectly smooth skin and muscle. He needed it against him, wanted to pull Dorian’s body so close that he couldn’t tell where his own ended and Dorian’s began. Dorian’s hands held him, a lover’s touch, as a hand tangled in John’s hair while John clung to Dorian’s smaller, stronger body.
“Come on,” Dorian said softly once they’d broken apart, while John sucked in breaths of air that Dorian didn’t need after their prolonged kiss.
He led John to the bedroom, almost like a lover leading his beloved to their marriage bed.
That was a stupid idea, John thought; he was no blushing bride, but there was a softness in Dorian’s eyes that justified it. His touch was gentle against John’s skin when he pushed him towards the bed, watched as John fell back onto the mattress of his own accord and spread himself out. He quickly finished disrobing before straddling John to pull off the rest of his garments as well, tossing them unceremoniously into a messy pile on the floor.
He hadn’t seen John naked in weeks, too many weeks; John had been guarded with his body, but now he spread himself on the bed before Dorian, unafraid and unashamed. The sheer vulnerability of the pose he took, spread eagled below him, suddenly struck Dorian. He was at a disadvantage, defenseless in this lower position – or would be, if Dorian were not Dorian.
“Thank you,” he murmured, awed. John nodded in acknowledgement, quick and curt.
“Come on,” he egged Dorian on, hands reaching. “I want to feel you.”
Dorian bent down for another kiss, body pressing against body yet again. They were both aroused, their nakedness allowing each to feel the other’s arousal trapped between them, melding with the delicious touch of skin-on-skin. Dorian kissed John’s lips, kissed the corner of his jaw as John threw his head back, kissed the base of this throat as John moaned, head thrown back against the pillow, kissed up the crook of his jaw to his ear and down his neck, mapping the graceful contours of John’s body with his lips.
“Dorian, I – “ he tilted his hips up desperately, seeking satisfaction as the skin-against-skin he’d just reveled in became desperately unsatisfying, so little of what he needed though it was so much of what he’d wanted.
“I’ve got you, John,” Dorian whispered, all smooth and collected. John had forgotten how in control Dorian could be, even when he was losing his mind to sensation. He’d forgotten how disconcerting the supreme patience with which Dorian made him ready was, the way that he ensured that John was prepared, not driven by the same kind of need and desperation that made John moan and whine and thrust back onto his fingers as he murmured pleas to hurry up.
Then Dorian flipped them over, until – in the blink of an eye- it was John straddling Dorian, his greater size making Dorian’s smaller body look almost – vulnerable – beneath him. The thought almost made him smile.
Now that John was on top, Dorian’s fingers dug into the skin of John’s hips, at first coaxing, and then demanding John’s body. They urged him forward, until Dorian’s cock pressed insistently at him. Taking the hint, he sank down on it with a groan of relief.
It’d been so long since he’d felt anything inside him. It’d be so long since Dorian was inside him, taking his body. He wanted to revel in the feeling, but again Dorian had other ideas. His fingers dug tighter into John’s skin, sure to leave bruises, and John was surprised to note he didn’t mind, not like this. Dorian urged him on, moving John’s body until it settled into a rhythm. Or- put bluntly – until John took the hint and started fucking himself on Dorian’s cock.
Even then Dorian wanted more, demanded more. His fingers dug deeper, then moved from hips to thighs, intent on controlling John’s every movement. Until, though he was on top, John felt completely and thoroughly fucked, Dorian’s body thrusting up into him below even as his iron grip brought John down even harder onto his cock. Until John was feeling split open and used and manhandled in the most perfect of ways.
“Oh god,” he gasped, throwing his head back.
It was over embarrassingly fast. Their weeks of separation, the perfection of the android’s body, which remembered, despite the long span of time, exactly what John wanted with an earth-shattering precision, meant that John didn’t have a hope of lasting. Dorian forced John’s body onto his cock once, twice more, taking what he needed or giving John what he wanted, John didn’t know, until John came, trembling.
“Guh,” he said ineloquently as he collapsed on top of Dorian.
Somehow, he didn’t mind that the whole thing had lasted barely a handful of minutes. Despite the weeks of separation, he hadn’t wanted to revel in this. He’d wanted it just like this, hard and fast and rough, like before and yet unlike before, and Dorian was always so good at giving him exactly what he wanted.
“You’re brilliant, you know that?” he asked absently. Dorian smiled, the blue lights on his face doing a quick dance in response, looking utterly calm and happy, and there was just a slight twinge of sadness in John’s heart at seeing that smile.
“You know things won’t be like before, right?” he suddenly asked, concerned. He didn’t need to voice it, because Dorian would know what his words meant. That he didn’t think he’d ever be able to stand Dorian holding him down again, that the memories of being helpless beneath Dorian’s hands would always be tinged with bitterness, that he’d never be able to give so innocently into that violence that he’d craved from Dorian’s hands.
But to that, too, Dorian only smiled. “My processors and data banks have an almost infinity capacity to store and process information. They can find and store thousands of other alternatives we could engage in.”
And he was right, of course. Just now, in the perfection of what they’d shared was yet another variation, a sort of compromise. He felt almost spoiled, with the way Dorian had given him the thorough fucking he so completely wanted and yet made him feel utterly safe. The way that Dorian had used and manipulated his body (he could feel the marks forming now, reveled in them), and yet allowed John the less vulnerable position. A satisfying alternative, indeed.
John huffed in wry amusement at his words, and then, almost without his permission, his features softened into a smile.
“I love you,” he muttered absently.
They both stilled. The blue lights flickered on Dorian’s face. John blinked.
The world didn’t come crashing down.
“I, uh,” John began, his cheeks coloring as he shifted awkwardly. But Dorian only rose up and kissed him, and out of the corner of his eye John could see more blue lights, dancing happily, ceaselessly, on Dorian’s face as they kissed, and he thought maybe he’d said the right thing.
…
“You know, I think I learned something from this whole thing,” Dorian said into the darkness, much later.
“Hmm?”
“I promised you once that I’d never hurt you. But I think that, maybe, it’s impossible never to hurt even the person one loves. That is the nature of being….human.” The word rolled off his tongue after only a slight pause, as if he was still too shy to use it and expected contradiction. He must’ve found John’s silence encouraging, because he continued.
“I can promise you, though, that I will always watch over you. And that I’ll always fight for you with every fiber of my being.”
His face lit up again as he said the words, in excitement, perhaps; they briefly illuminated John’s face in the darkness, just enough to show the candor in his face when John said “So will I.”