[Normally Dorian finds himself the initiator, but he's not at all put off by John slipping him the tongue, lips parting instinctively at the first sign of prodding. John's delicious, well at least he ought to be after drinking so much fine wine, or it could be that kissing him is simply going to Dorian's head in much the same was as if he were tipsy. It's dizzying and he draws John in, just short of devouring his mouth with feverish kisses, and though it's been a while tongue jousting is one thing Dorian hasn't forgotten how to do.

He's also more than happy to repay touch with touch, flattening his palms against John's lower back, coasting upward, hiking his rumpled shirt as he smoothes his hands over skin. John should be able to feel more than just the warmth of his hands though, something electric and controlled shooting up and down the other mage's spine, a pleasant tingle, like thousands of tendrils massaging his back before they both break away for breath. While John is busy catching his breath Dorian is is still plying his lips to his companion's cheek and brow only withdrawing a bit at the question.

It's not often that Dorian is thrown, but it happens now and again and he can't hold back another pleased laugh.]

A thinly veiled request to see me naked? You have but to ask. [Well aware of how complicated his own clothing is, Dorian partss from John, just enough to focus on the bindings around his left arm, like a glove that ran up the whole length of his arm, with a series of buckles and straps. He finally shook his arm free, letting it land on the floor where he's certain more clothing would follow.

The tattoo on his arm is a series of geometric shapes that really don't have any meaning at first glance.] They're formulas...for determining a spell's raw potential.

[Much like the staff he presents his arm to John to do with as he wills before offering the man a smile that was mock coy.]

Naturally. How could I say no especially if it means seeing more of you.