"I know you do. And I appreciate it, even though it seems like I don't." Dorian could defend himself -- probably. But the thought that someone was worried about him was still comforting.

Dorian moved to lean over Bull, smoothing his hands over his shoulders, and across his chest, just below. Soft, sweeping touches.

"I could do something for it. Or, get you some aspirin from the cupboard. What happened? Disagreement about what constitutes as 'enough' to drink?"