Chapter Text
Every kick made in desperation was painful, brutal. Dorian stood firm and strong, taking every kick while clenching his jaw. If he faltered in any way, it would mean failure. He didn't know who this was, but they seemed drunk. Maybe just some random punk or a bitter ex, either way, he would not let them in. He couldn't. Every kick hurt, bruising his body. Dorian would have laughed as the person kicked everywhere but his weak spot, just below the knob.
He knew everyone would be okay; Monique had Sofia to protect her if they were after money. Those thoughts quickly left his head when Dorian received another blow to his gut, gritting his teeth with a pained grunt that sounded like the door giving way to the bastard kicking him. No, he needed to stand strong. Not just for the rest of the objects, but for you, sleeping soundly in your bed.
Sure, the other Dorians were sturdy, but a few good kicks like this would open them right up. The thought of this person doing something to you made Dorian's blood run cold, and he tensed, continuing to stand firm.
"Shitty... fuckin'..." The person mumbled, turning and stumbling away after long moments. They were definitely drunk, making their way over to the next house while bumbling nonsense and other stupid drunken behavior.
Dorian almost collapsed, catching himself just in time to stand tall and continue to protect you. You were safe, that's all that mattered...
"Yo... you good, man...?" Curt asked after a moment of silence, Rod next to him as usual, with the same worried expression. Wyndolyn was covering her mouth, watching on in horror. Dorian nodded with a grunt, now extremely grateful the drunk person didn't smash Wyndolyn instead.
"'m fine. Just... don't tell the human 'bout this. The last thing they need is more stress in their life." Dorian grumbled, taking slow, deep breaths to try and calm the pain and bruising spreading through his body. Curt and Rod looked at each other with raised brows and concerned looks, silently communicating whether they should tell you about what went down. "Please..."
The duo snapped their heads back toward Dorian at the sound of his soft plea, noticing his exhausted demeanor. The two look at each other again before nodding.
"Yeah, no problem..." Rod agreed. "A-are you sure you're good, man? I can get Able to go get Farya or-"
"I'm fine," Dorian said sternly, shooting the two a small glare that made them straighten up. "Just... give me a moment. And silence."
Wyndolyn watched from her space, making a mental note to tell you in the morning.
--
Heading downstairs, you find Dorian collapsed, sitting on the ground, and catching his breath. You rush to him in a panic, kneeling beside him while Farya tended to his injuries.
"Jesus, Dorian, what the hell happened?!" You ask him. Dorian seemed disappointed in himself for being found like this, knowing he should have been stronger. He hesitated to tell you, not wanting to make you worry. He opened his mouth to tell the truth to you gently, but...
"He got his shit kicked in by some dude drunk outta his mind!" Curt blurted out.
"Yeah! But he took every hit like it didn't phase him!" Rod joined in. "He-!"
"Not now, please!" Farya interrupted in annoyance, wanting her full attention on Dorian. His shirt was pulled open, revealing his torso and multiple purple, almost black bruises. A soft blush dusted his cheeks due to being this exposed, especially with you so close.
Dorian looked at you from under his cap, giving you a look that could only be described as shame and sorrow. You only felt more worried, hesitating before taking his hand in yours.
"Thank you, Dorian." You say softly. His eyes widened briefly, brows shooting up before relaxing again and looking away.
"Just doin' my job, luv." He murmured, wincing as Farya applied something cold to his skin.
"Well, all the injuries are external, you'll be alright. Just try to relax and take it easy for a few weeks." Farya explained, brushing herself off and gathering her tools. "Oh, and put this on the bruises every day." She said, handing the strange blue and red bottle to Dorian.
"Thanks, but..." He looked at you again, hesitating to say he couldn't relax, he needed to stay strong to protect you. But that look in your eyes of pure worry and fear... the way you clenched his hand. "I'll... take it easy."
He buttoned up his shirt, pulling on his jacket again while telling himself it's nothing you haven't seen before, thanks to his horizontal form in the boiler room. He still couldn't help but blush, finding himself envious of the other Dorian that got so close to you while so little clothed.
"I'm alright, luv, really, ya don't have to fret over me all day," Dorian reassured you, still holding your hand, and giving it a gentle squeeze. He took a step back, retaking his position as the door.
"Alright... but take it easy, okay?" You replied, hesitant to leave him. You looked like you wanted to say more, but he closed himself off before you could. Dorian was already overwhelmed with emotions and didn't want to say or blurt out anything that could ruin the friendship.
You were safe... that's all that mattered.