Dorian can not believe this is happening. When he’d come down to join the Chargers for their evening drinks this time, rather than taking his usual seat next to Krem, his lover had grabbed him about the waist and pulled him into his lap. Dorian had flushed red and the Chargers had broken into a chorus of laughs and hoots. “This okay?” Krem murmurs the question into his ear when the hollering dies down. Dorian is still blushing but he nods. It’s not the first time they’ve done something like this, though he still can’t quite believe Krem wants this, pressed close to him in public, obviously affectionate, despite the watchful eyes of the tavern patrons.