The other jokes again but then what he says at the end has Dorian pausing, looking from the ice that grows on the handle of the tool and slowly up at the other. Dorian was not always a very nice man, he could be rather blunt and he's used to one night stands, as they were. Relationships had never been what he was able to have, the closeness of them, the offer of what life could be with something steady and unyielding but he swallows, the smallest tinge of pink showing upon his cheekbones as he looks at the other quietly, the silence standing between them at his rather forward comment. He could be brave, he could ignore it, he could pretend it wasn't something he wanted to hear and throw it away as a mistake but instead after searching the others face even though it was cast downward, he too looked back at the frost.

The small crystals travelled from his touch along the handle then onto the metal, brushing only ever so slightly against the others flesh, not enough to freeze or burn, he was not putting enough into it, only a brush of cold and Dorian draws his grin back upon his lips when he notes the attention of the spirit as well.

"Maybe the question is, do you want to put your hands on me."

Came a whisper of a comment, teasing, quiet as he urged the soft spell onward, watching the frost grow into crystals on the metal part of the trowel.