Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them. [Backdated to May 17th, 2015]

[pontmercyfriend]

Marius does not lie when he tells Dorian to expect the same treatment as Flavia upon his own birthday.

The week before, he made the point to walk to his favorite book store and purchase a few volumes he felt the mage would appreciate very much; a history of the world in general, a collection of ghost stories and folklore centered on Darrow traditions and mythology, a history of magic and its varied traditions through a myriad of cultures, and, a personal, recent of Marius': The Portrait of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. (And perhaps Marius might have also decided upon this as a gift for the shared name between the protagonist and his friend, having felt a twinge of playfulness at the thought at the time.) On the top rests an intricately designed card, composed of various serpentine images. Marius hopes Dorian will like it.

This afternoon, Marius carries the newly-wrapped packages as he makes his way to the seventh floor of Dimera, to Dorian's rooms. He owes much to his friend, really, and he hopes this parcel of texts will help show the other man how much Marius appreciates his companionship. He struggles a bit trying to balance the books, all of which vary in thickness, as he walks, nearly stumbling into the wall on more than one occasion.

But eventually, he manages to make his way to number 32 without further hassle. Shifting the books in his arms, he knocks three times.

"Dorian?" He calls out. "It's Marius. I have your birthday present!"

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[propertool]

Marius' shoulder is surprisingly comfortable, for as thin as he is. And Dorian is, perhaps, more drunk than he first assumed he was. It would make an excellent napping spot, and Dorian finds it suddenly unfair that he's not sure whether or not Marius might put up with that from Dorian. Marius is a good friend, but Dorian hasn't had many friends. He doesn't know where to expect them to draw a line.

He gives a very, very long sigh and refuses to move his weight from Marius regardless.

"So you say. Let me tell you, I've been traveling for years now, much of that camping, and I will never, ever get used to a cold bath. Ever. This isn't hyperbole. This is me recognizing a great truth about myself. That I am a spoilt little shit."

[pontmercyfriend]

From his years of knowing Courfeyrac, Marius is more used to weights on his shoulders than one might expect. Many a nights, he's wound up shouldering Courfeyrac's head when he's drunk too much. Dorian's head on his shoulder doesn't bother him in the least, therefore. He is perfectly fine with being a pillow for a friend, if that's what they need at the moment.

He suspects, given the state of Dorian's sobriety, the man is liable to fall asleep at any given moment.

"Cold baths are really great during the summer though," Marius points out. "Especially in a city like Paris, where, in July, insects would wind up stuck to your skin for all the sweat you've gathered."

"And even if you are spoiled, you're still a great friend Dorian," he tells him.

[propertool]

Dorian gives a long, loud yawn, with a jaw wide enough to bring water to the corners of his eyes. He stretches his hands out in front of himself before relaxing against Marius' warm shoulder again.

"What a delightful mental image," Dorian laughs. "You're very generous, though. Great? Seems a bit too superlative for someone like myself."

Dorian's body threatened another yawn.

"If I should fall asleep on you, just lock the door on your way out, would you? I may have done a little too much drowning my sorrows earlier."

[pontmercyfriend]

"Well, those were the delightful summer months in Paris," Marius says with a grin and a start of a shrug, before remembering that Dorian's head rests on his shoulder. He stops before he disrupts Dorian's comfort levels. He hopes.

"You are great, Dorian," he assures him, earnest with every word. "Really. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise."

"Noted," he nods. "Would you like a blanket or a glass of water for when you wake up?"

[propertool]

The smile that Dorian graces Marius with is gentle and too-warm from sleep, a half-formed and sloppy thing unlike the crafted expressions that usually rest on his features.

"If I stop to tell one off, I'll have to tell off them all," he says, sleep weighing his voice down. "I think ... water. They tell me it keeps the headaches away better than anything else."

[pontmercyfriend]

"Well, they deserve to be told off, all of them," Marius assures him, moving to let Dorian's head droop on the pillow beside him. The other man clearly could use the rest, and Marius doesn't want to get in the way of that. He moves to drape a blanket over Dorian's shoulders, smiling down at the other man.

"You get some rest," he tells him. "I'll make sure to get some water for you, before I leave. It does help, with headaches I've found. Also, fast food works wonders on an aching stomach."