All the Sins You Never Had the Courage to Commit
The invitation arrived in a slick off-white envelope attached to a medium sized black box. Victor, who assumed unannounced gifts to be a curse of sorts, left it alone on an end table for almost an entire day before his curiosity got the best of him and he gently separated the wax sealing the note. It simply gave him an address with the message, "Wear this, for me." There was no name.
He almost didn't acknowledge it, until he opened the box and found the best suit he had ever chanced to lay eyes upon. It felt like satin, and yet there was no indication of whom it came from. Victor became curious, and donned the apparel. When he looked on himself in the mirror, the very least he could do, he thought, was to thank the person that sent him such an outfit.
So it happened that Victor walked through the London streets at sundown with a fall breeze blowing through the rotten streets. He pulled his collar up to his chin, simply hoping that whatever lay at the end of this trek was well worth it.
The manor he was directed to was gargantuan. The only person he knew that held an estate such as this one was Sir Malcolm Murray, but he was also aware that Sir Malcolm did not hold this title. He was confused, and a little excited, about who awaited him beyond that door.
Banging the knocker three times in succinct succession, he was surprised to find the door opening on an empty foyer with a ragged looking butler standing, one arm swung wide. Before he could utter a greeting, the older man said, "Straight ahead and to the right, the portrait room."
"Thank you," Victor said uneasily, moving past the man and began making his way down the long corridor. One of the movements from Tristan and Isolde played ominously from the open room he had been directed towards. Victor had had his fair share of romantic poetry in his childhood, and with that came his fair share of opera, yet he was pleasantly surprised that he recognized the selection.
He wandered towards the music. The portrait room was grand, maybe even larger than Sir Murray's ballroom. It was lit from several candelabra spaced a bit too far apart on the wall to see well, and long shadows draped the couches scattered across the mostly open area.
From behind a screen on the far side, someone stepped out into the pools of darkness concentrated there. "Thank you for coming, doctor."
Victor still couldn't see the other man's face, and it filled him with a sense of unease. "I wanted to thank the generous person who would give me such an… elegant gift," he said, taking a few steps into the room. The machine in the corner clicked, and the music began again. He shifted his weight and stood awkwardly, waiting for his host to step forward into the light.
"I'm glad you enjoy it, and might I say it looks marvelous on you. Sir Murray was correct." The man took a step closer to the light. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Dorian Gray."
When he emerged from the darkness Victor's breath caught in his throat. Never before had he seen anyone so beautiful. Dorian wore a long red coat, open to expose a pale chest, and tight leather pants. Suddenly Victor felt very over-dressed and extremely self conscious, as he never dreamt to have an encounter with a man such as this.
"Well," Victor responded when he found his bearings again, "I assume you already know who I am."
"I know a name, and a profession. That barely qualifies as knowing a person, don't you think?" Dorian began picking his way across the room, closing the distance between them, his body moving like liquid.
"Might I ask what has prompted such a gift?" Victor ran his hand down his torso.
"Look around you," Dorian requested, "What do you see?"
For the first time, Victor took in his surroundings, trying to catch every detail. The walls were lined with portraits of varying size, stitched together like a quilt. He felt the weight of a hundred sets of eyes on him in that moment, and it held a dizzying effect. He wanted to sit down, but somehow thought that might not be the best idea just yet. "I see pictures of people," he said.
"Now what don't you see?" A playful gleam crept into Dorian's eye.
He really didn't want to take another slow glance around the room. "What game are you playing here?"
Dorian was now just an arm's length away. There was a sensuality that radiated from his body, clouding Victor's thoughts. "I don't have any pictures of doctors yet, especially none as handsome as yourself."
A chill ran down the young doctor's spine. Had he really been called here to be photographed? The ones adorning the walls would have been charming if there weren't so many, and Dorian wanted to add more? There had to be something more to this, but he couldn't figure it out. Definitely not with this proximity.
Frankly Victor had never put much thought into things such as sex. He spent most of his time locked away in his lab, and all the time outside his lab he yearned to get back to it. But now, he couldn't help but to wonder what it would be like to touch that pale skin, caress it with the same delicate touch he executed so astonishingly in his work. He saw Dorian appraising him, taking in how his present fit.
"Please, come in," Dorian shouted over Victor's shoulder, knocking him out of his trance.
Victor half turned to see the man who had let him inside standing at the threshold, dragging photography equipment.
Putting an arm around Victor's shoulder, Dorian guided him back towards the screen he had came out from behind. "You, you really want to take my picture?" He was dumbfounded.
"Yes, I most certainly do."
"Isn't it a little dark for that?"
"We have a flash bulb, don't you worry about that."
Victor had never posed for a portrait before, and wasn't entirely sure he wanted to start now. "Then why send me a suit? Why not a laboratory coat, or a surgeon's attire?"
"We both know you're not that kind of doctor."
"I thought you said you didn't know me."
"Small facets of one's character does not lead to true knowing. And I've spoken with Sir Malcolm quite extensively about you. I don't take my subjects lightly." Dorian's breath warmed his ear, and Victor felt his legs tremble. Something waited just beneath the surface, and he could feel it twisted, writhing, longing to break free. "I do, however, have some props if you'd like to utilize them."
He pulled himself away from the doctor and disappeared behind the curtain. Wheeling out a cart, he said, almost sheepishly, "I hope these are to your liking."
Upon the cart sat an arrangement of surgical tools, which had clearly never been used. The steel gleamed in the candlelight.
Victor found himself amazed. In his own lab, he used tools he had calculatedly swiped during his tenure at university. He managed to keep them in decent shape, but they were nothing special. Without realizing he was doing so, he began to run his hand over the instruments. He jerked his hand back when he noticed Dorian watching him with a seductive smile twisting his lips.
"These are beautiful," he said, eyeing the cleaver.
"And they're yours, as long as you fulfill your end of this agreement."
"All this, the clothing, the utensils, just for a picture? Is that what I am truly to believe?"
"Yes, that is accurate. Of course, how you'd like to thank me is entirely up to you. Once we get the perfect image, there'll be no need for this gentleman to linger." He waved airily at the man setting up the camera.
No one in Victor's life had ever been this erotic with him. He was taken aback, flattered, and confused all at the same time. "All right, well I suppose we should just get to it then. Although, seeing as how I've never done this before, I may need some directing."
"I would most gladly perform the task. Now," he pointed towards the cleaver, "I think that would be perfect."
Victor gasped when he handled the blade. It was magnificent in its construction, and he knew, somehow, that it was made for him. He thought of the body parts scattered about his laboratory, and how easily this could separate the disparate parts. With these tools he could effortlessly finish his research.
The camera was assembled and ready for use. For a moment, Victor just stood there, the cleaver suddenly clumsy in his hand. He wasn't lying when he said this was a new experience, and Dorian instantly stepped in to help.
"Here, like this," he said, and took Victor's wrist in his hand and began positioning him.
"This is what you want? Doesn't it look a bit ridiculous?" Victorian questioned. He was standing with one hand on his hip, the other holding the cleaver perilously close to his face, the sharp edge centimeters from his skin.
"No, this is perfect. I want it to look like you could pucker up and kiss it. Don't you love the idea of a little danger?" He back off a few paces and nodded at the photographer. Before Victor could even manage a smile the flash went off and he was blinded.
From then on he was thrown. Dorian kept shouting his directions and Victor scrambled to obey, but he felt like nothing he did matched the caliber of the pictures that hung around him. Thinking of them brought back that dizziness, and the flash continued to explode and he continued trying his best, but he thought nothing had come from it.
And then, just like that, Dorian yelled, "That's a wrap! Thank you so much, kind sir, for your time. Now if you could leave us alone, I'd like to thank the doctor myself."
The photographer left his equipment where it was and exited the room.
Dorian stepped over to Victor. "You were perfection," he said, drawing right up to him, their chests nearly touching. Victor tilted his head up to meet Dorian's gaze, and he instantly became hard.
"So, how would you like me to thank you for these gifts?"
"I think you may have known the answer to that the minute you walked into this room," Dorian stated frankly. He took one of Victor's hands and placed it on his chest. "Touch," he commanded in that delicate voice of his.
This intimacy frightened Victor, but he felt himself giving in to it. The sensation of another man's skin on his own, and the invitation to explore further, filled him with a lust he had never encountered outside his lab. And living, warm flesh was wondrous compared to steel instruments and glass vials. He traced Dorian's nipple, then pulled him closer and wrapped his hand around to feel his back.
"There is one problem," Dorian interrupted, shrugging out of his jacket.
"And that would be?" Victor muttered breathlessly.
"You are wearing far too much clothing."
Dorian descended on Victor like rainfall, his deft fingers working each button as if he had already memorized the garment, pushing Victor towards one of the couches while he worked. Trying to gather himself enough to play catch up, Victor found his own fingers clawing at the other man's pants, wanting nothing more than to just tear them from his body, to release their prisoner.
They fell to the padded couch as one messy ball of limbs, a trail of fabric in their wake. Dorian twisted until he was on top of Victor, playfully pinning him to the cushions. He felt the young man grow hard, and smiled.
"You like a little domination, I see," he said. Before giving him the chance to respond, Dorian mashed his mouth against Victor's, working his tongue through semi-parted lips, and was pleasantly surprised when the doctor responded in kind.
Both now totally nude, Dorian broke the kiss and sat up, admiring Victor's lean body. "You are quite the beauty, aren't you?"
"I am nowhere as beautiful as you are."
"Ah, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder."
Victor started to say something more, then stopped. He was staring at Dorian's member, standing at attention and begging for release. Wiggling from beneath Dorian, he pushed the other man down on the sofa, tracing the line of his jaw with one hand.
When he took Dorian in the mouth, they both started to moan softly. Again, Victor found himself doing what he hadn't thought himself capable of doing, yet apparently he had some natural talent. He worked slowly, losing himself in the moment completely, until a firm hand was placed on his shoulder and pushed him back.
He looked up at Dorian, confused.
"I don't want this over so soon, pet," Dorian explained. "Now, your turn."
The waves of euphoria that washed over him when Dorian went to work wiped his mind blank. There was nothing else to the world, nothing else to him, except his member and the mouth wrapped tightly around it. He had thought he had done a good job, but Dorian worked like a professional, better even. Of course, Victor had nothing to compare this too, but he knew that it could not get any more amazing than this. Feeling his body restrict a little, he gave Dorian the same signal he had received, to pause.
Dorian looked up with mischief in his eye. "My, you're an easy one to work up." He chuckled, then slid himself up the length of Victor's body, not once breaking contact.
Everything fell away then. They were two bodies entwined as one miraculous entity, and Dorian lowered his lips to Victor's neck. Victor's fingers played in Dorian's hair, over his smooth back. He wished his arms were long enough to caress the soft mounds of Dorian's ass, but knew that time would come.
Dorian flipped Victor over, and the doctor was shocked by the slender man's incredible strength. He felt as though he were a plaything, and found that he didn't care.
"I'll be as gentle as possible," he breathed. From the depths of the couch he pulled out a bottle of oil.
As Dorian entered him he screamed, and wasn't sure if it was from pain or pleasure. Then again, he figured you couldn't have one without the other, not entirely. Dorian rocked slowly on top of him, as if searching for something.
Inching in a little deeper, Dorian hooked upwards, and found what he was looking for. As Victor's prostate got rammed, the pleasure emanating from his body nearly blinded him. The world lost focus and he gave into it, riding along this ocean of sensations he had never thought possible.
They came together. As the ocean receded, Dorian slipped out of Victor and they turned sideways, spooning in the mess they had created.
Victor felt himself fighting sleep, craning his neck to meet Dorian's lips.
"It's okay," Dorian murmured. "It really takes it out of you. Rest."
And so Victor gave in, letting his heavy eyelids fall, and sank back into this strange man he suddenly felt madly in love with. The night was half over, but he suspected he'd be sleeping well into tomorrow.
A/N: So… this happened. I originally wanted to do a fluffy, one shot of this pairing, but I do have an idea to extend it out if people are into it! So please drop a review and let me know what you think!