He succeeds. Dorian smiles, chuckles a little. "Did I say that?" He inquires in return, and is glad to return Bull's kiss. His heart feels heavy with affection and gratitude, and he doesn't think too far beyond the present. It seems inevitable that they will go home now that Bull has saved him, no matter that he knows, on some level, that he doesn't know how to get them back yet. Time portals are unpredictable at best, and he doesn't have a focus for the spell.

Still, he's content enough now, refreshed by his bath and a little more nourished than he had been. The bed Bull deposits him on is large--built, clearly, for a qunari, rather than a human-sized bed that Bull has to squeeze himself into. Dorian spreads out, still bare, but dried off enough to enjoy the experience of clean sheets against his skin. If he could fall asleep now, he knows that it would be dreamless.

Bull is in the process of toweling himself off, and Dorian watches him through half-open eyes, appreciating the graceful way he moves, belied by his size and bulk. Bull is a story of contradictions, complex as he pretends to be simple, and Dorian loves him.

"No one will bother us?" He has the presence of mind to ask this, at least, even if it should be a more pressing concern than he makes it sound.