aban_aqun | Skyhold

"Sex and friendship don't usually go together for me," he points out quietly. But Dorian has waltzed across those lines and Bull-- he doesn't want to go back. He doesn't want to separate those relationships. He doesn't know what to call it, he doesn't know how to categorize Dorian, and so he's just stopped trying.

"I like spending time with you. I don't want any of what we've been doing to stop, if you don't."

That's one of the few things that might make Bull back off: an explicit request from Dorian that he do so. Part of him knows it would make everything so much easier, but he doesn't... want that, and that is a strange feeling, too.

Dorian tells himself he isn't disappointed; it's the answer he should have expected. He is Bull's friend, and surely a Qunari would hardly want...more. Apparently he's already an anomaly as far as Bull's personal relationships go.

He's glad, of course, that Bull is happy to continue on the same trajectory. He squeezes his hands and smiles warmly up at him.

"I certainly don't want it to stop either," he assures. "I'm happy to be your friend, Bull. And sleeping together has been..." He laughs, feeling a bit bashful. "Well, I'm sure it's been quite obvious how much I've enjoyed it."

Bull smiles and tips his head to give Dorian another lingering kiss. "Do you want to keep standing here?" he asks. He doesn't mind, but he imagines Dorian's bed might be more comfortable.

"Mmm, I come bearing gifts," he adds as he plucks up a bottle that's been hanging from his belt. A brandy that he's noticed Dorian likes. His gaze drifts to the blanket of books and papers. "What are you working on?"

If Bull is still willing to kiss him like this, to come up here and tell him honestly that he still wants him, Dorian thinks, then he should be content with that. It's far more than he's ever had with anyone else--far more than he'd ever hope for. Especially with a man as kind and considerate and--dare he say--suited to him as the Bull. They've become very close over the last several months, and he's happy with things as they are.

They part, and Dorian laughs as he invites Bull further in. "I suppose you're allowed, as you come with brandy," he teases, and takes the bottle from Bull's hands to set it on top of the small dresser near his bed--a surface cluttered not by books or papers, but by his cosmetics. He begins to clear off the bed as well, making room for both of them to sit.

"At the moment? Genealogy of altus families," he says, with some humor. "Not a subject I ever thought I'd find myself studying in such detail, but here we are."

Bull lets Dorian do the clearing, mostly because he doesn't want to ruin any sort of organizational principle happening there. When there's enough room, Bull sinks down carefully. He reaches to pull Dorian down as soon as the mage is close enough.

"Sounds fascinating," he says with a dry look. He knows the importance of the work, but pouring through genealogies, especially considering that Dorian had done quite a bit of work to get away from that sort of thing, sounds tedious. "Anything interesting yet? Awkward amounts of inbreeding?"

Dorian smiles as he's pulled into Bull's lap, hand settling on his broad shoulders. "Oh, stop," he scolds, though he's nearly laughing as he says it. "I can't say I've seen anything particularly interesting yet--though I can safely conclude that nearly every altus family has intermarried with every other family at some point or another."

But that was something he'd already known, to some extent; everyone who understood the nature of their own family history (or had it drilled into them by strict nannies from a young age, as Dorian had) would already be aware of that much.

"You know, I can't pour us any brandy if I'm sitting in your lap," he points out, leaning close enough to kiss, but not quite closing that distance. "Unless you'd prefer to save it for later?"

"Tamassrans keep track of this kind of thing to make sure that doesn't happen," he says as he looks at the pile of paperwork. His hand slides over Dorian's thigh and he tips his head when it seems like the mage is leaning in for a kiss. Bull smiles at the question and closes the distance.

"What, no drinking it straight from the bottle?" he teases. He relaxes his hold and gives Dorian's ass a gentle swat. "Let's at least try it. If you don't like it, I'll pawn it off on Varric."

There's no question of him liking it; he's yet to meet a brandy he didn't enjoy on some level, though he'll certainly pretend to turn his nose up at some, just as he pretends to be offended by Bull;s playful slap. Regardless, he'll drink it anyway.

"Actually, drinking straight from the bottle is our only option." He stands to retrieve it from the top of the dresser, handing it unopened to Bull before settling in his lap again, this time face to face with a thigh on either side of Bull's. "You first."

Bull chuckles and accepts the bottle as Dorian settles back in his lap. It feels good to have him so close. He opens it carefully and takes a drink. It's good, one of the better ones Cabot had in stock. He offers the bottle to Dorian, curious to hear his opinion.

"Truly roughing it, I see," he teases gently. He has a good idea of what Dorian has been through since he left Tevinter, partly because the disappearance of an altus is something that goes noted. "I'll have to make off with some glasses for you."

"As you can see, I am completely destitute," Dorian confirms with suitable drama. "Not even a single glass to my name."

He puts the lip of the bottle to his mouth as soon as the Bull hands it over, no hesitation, and drinks. The liquor is warm and remarkably smooth, the flavor strong without being overpowering. Not bad at all. He drinks deeply for another moment before making a noncommittal noise. "It will do," he declares.

At this point he thinks he should be safe in asking the question he most wants to now, but past experience makes him apprehensive and hesitant. For Bull's sake, however, he gathers the courage to wonder, "Would you like to stay here tonight?"

Bull's expression softens at the invitation. "Yes," he answers. "I'd like that, thank you."

He hadn't planned to ask himself: he'd come this far, it was up to Dorian whether or not he stayed the night. He tips his head to kiss Dorian's jaw. His thumbs sweep across the mage's hips and Bull realizes that he's relieved to have that invitation. To know that he won't be sleeping alone tonight.

He pauses, then looks down at the bed. "Think we'll fit?"

To mask just how relieved he is at Bull's affirmation, Dorian takes another swig from the bottle, smiling despite himself at Bull's displays of affection, lips against his jaw and huge hands covering his hips. Bull will stay tonight, at least, and whatever happens after that they'll decide as they go.

"I'll have to sleep on top of you," Dorian jokes. "Or at least very close to your side." But he's rather used to that by now--laying his head on Bull's chest, a thick arm around his waist, drifting off pressed as close together as it's possible to be, skin to skin. "And I'm sure I have enough pillows for your head." Lacking Bull's own bolster, they'll have to pile a few up, but it should work just as well.

"We'll manage," he says fondly. "I can't imagine you'll complain too much, given the way that fire is going."

One thing Dorian hasn't had to worry about for the past three months is getting cold at night. Bull steals the bottle back to take another taste. He won't drink too much; he brought it for Dorian and it would take more than this to get him tipsy anyway.

"Learning anything interesting?" he asks as he relaxes back, shifting until he can lean against a wall.

"You have your uses," Dorian teases, "and while you're here, I intend to put you to use."

He raises his hands to Bull's horns, rubbing at them fondly near the base in a way he knows Bull to appreciate.

"Nothing that I particularly care to relate," he sighs. It's nice to settle here in the Bull's lap and talk, comfortable and content and happy that Bull still wants him this way. "Talking about work is so tiresome. I'd much rather here about what you got up to between yesterday and today. What Skyhold gossip have I missed? No doubt you heard it all at the Rest last night."

Bull relaxes as Dorian rubs his horns and he closes his eye for a moment.

"Mm. Vivienne made one of Fiona's mages cry, but it sounds like she had good reason. Cassandra's been spotted reading a very unseemly book. Rumors about you and I made it back before we did."

He opens his eye and strokes his thumb along Dorian's thigh. Bull knew it was a very real possibility but he isn't particularly pleased, if only for Dorian's sake. Bull can handle rumors; most people are too afraid to bring them up to his face.

He hadn't expected any differently, but here it is confirmed--that half of Skyhold must know about them already, and the rest will soon. He'd certainly prefer it wasn't so, but he has little power to dissuade anyone from talking about such a riveting subject (apparently) as his bedroom activities. There's been gossip about that for nearly half his life.

He isn't ashamed of being with the Bull, but he does firmly believe in being granted privacy about personal matters, especially when so much of his life has been subject to public ridicule. It would be nice to have something that's just for him. For them. He sighs, thumb tracing slowly over a groove in Bull's horn.

"None of which surprises me," he says wearily. At least he doesn't have to worry about any misinformation that may arise about the nature of their relationship; if their spat that morning in the Exalted Plains was any indication, Bull doesn't much care if anyone thinks they are romantically involved. People can have what opinions they like, he supposes. "I suppose I'll join you tomorrow night and lend those rumors some credence."

Bull strokes his fingers down Dorian's back. "I can see some of the rumors put down," he offers quietly. There's only so much he can do to stifle the gossip, but he could certainly do more than he has. Part of him feels guilty that Dorian has become an object of further conversation because of him and his interest. But-- Dorian could have pulled away at any time. Could have spent the last three months sleeping in his own tent. It isn't his fault, but he certainly didn't avoid associating with Bull, either.

He gives a small, soft smile when Dorian talks about joining him tomorrow. Bull slides a hand up to the back of Dorian's neck and guides him into a kiss.

"I'll resist the urge to toss you over my shoulder at the end of the night."

"It's fine, Bull. I can live with it," he assures, and leans into his touch, and then the press of his lips. Melting into his arms is so easy. It's remarkable how simple it has become to allow this sort of affection, when months ago Dorian had balked at the idea, nervous and unfamiliar. Bull has given him so many things he'd only dreamed of having all his years in Tevinter, and he's incredibly grateful. If the price is that everyone in southern Thedas should know he's fucking a Qunari, then so be it. He is, and quite happily so.

Playfully, he firms his grip on Bull's horns. It's still somewhat thrilling to touch them so boldly, no matter how long he's spent rubbing balm into them over the last few months. But he knows how much Bull likes it, so he doesn't hesitate.

"If you can at least resist until we're alone," he flirts, "you may toss me wherever you'd like." And now that they have actual walls again, rather than sleeping in a tent every night...well. That gives him a few ideas.

Bull slides his hands down Dorian's back and pulls him closer as the mage's hands grip his horns. He can vaguely feel the weight and pressure and he does like it. He likes it more when Dorian flirts with him.

"Oh?" he prompts, catching the promising look in Dorian's eyes. He shifts his weight carefully, making sure not to upset Dorian's seat. His hands drift lower, over Dorian's thighs as he keeps his gaze on the mage's face.

"What else?" he adds, his voice a low rumble. "When we're alone?"

Bull shifting beneath him is promising, the hands settling over his thighs even more so. Dorian's hands drift gradually from his horns, fingers tracing down over the Bull's face, tracing softly and affectionately over his scars until they settle at his jaw, directing the tilt of his head so that Dorian can lean in and kiss him soundly.

It would make him strangely happy, he thinks, to have sex here in his own room, in his own bed. That isn't a luxury he's been afforded many times in his life.

"I want you to pick me up," he confesses softly after the kiss breaks--something Bull certainly knows about him already. "I want you to carry me, hold me. I want to feel your strength."

Bull pulls lightly at the fabric covering Dorian's legs. He slides one hand down the back of his sleep pants as Dorian murmurs between kisses. "Done," he says lightly, his eye bright. "Next time we're in my room. Your furniture looks more-- breakable."

And Bull doesn't have much in the way of furniture at all. That's fine. That's what walls are for. One big hand covers Dorian's ass as he pulls the mage's hips against his. He's mildly concerned about Dorian's bed, but if they could manage at inns, he's pretty sure a bed found in Skyhold will be sturdy enough.

He tips his head, trailing biting kisses down Dorian's neck, leaving little red marks in his wake. He smells so good and Bull growls quietly against his warm skin.

Dorian nods in agreement, feeling his heart speed up at the mere prospect of having his somewhat embarrassing desire fulfilled. Bull didn't hesitate for a moment in agreeing; he probably doesn't see anything embarrassing about it, thankfully. That's only Dorian, and certain preconceptions he can't quite shake. But Bull has never once judged him for his preferences, or made him feel ridiculous for wanting or asking for something. It's yet another thing that Dorian appreciates about him.

A hand slides beneath his pants and settles over his ass as Bull drags him flush against him. Dorian makes a soft, encouraging noise which turns into a louder gasp as Bull's mouth moves down along his neck, nipping and sucking at his skin, raising marks. He's reminded of just how very sensitive he is there when his cock begins responding almost immediately. Warmth spreads through Dorian's body; he feels that growl down to his toes.

"Bull," he murmurs, encouraging and already a little breathless. "Tell me something you'd like," he requests. Bull is always so good to him--always gives him precisely what he wants. He'd love to do the same in return. "Something you've wanted to do together."

Bull smiles against Dorian's skin. A few thoughts filter through his mind, things he doesn't think he can quite ask Dorian for. He isn't used to people really asking him what he wants.

He gives Dorian another lazy bite.

"I want to hear what you sound like when you aren't holding back," he rumbles quietly, letting Dorian feel his voice as much as hear it. "We have stone walls for the first time in months."

But he has a feeling that answer won't quite satisfy Dorian. It's an easy thing to give. Bull lifts his head and strokes his fingers along the line of Dorian's jaw. He measures what he says next, weighs it against what he knows about Dorian and, yes, what he can do for Dorian.

"Give yourself over to me completely for one night, sometime soon. Let me take control for both of us. Trust me."

He knows that Dorian trusts him, otherwise he wouldn't be here. But Bull can do more for him and he knows it, can see what the mage needs - things he would never ask for, things he wouldn't ever know to ask for. It isn't a small thing he requests and Bull isn't entirely prepared to act on it now even if Dorian gives permission. But that is what he wants.

As the Bull's teeth scrape his neck again, Dorian shudders. Bull's initial request is not quite as simple for Dorian to grant as he might imagine. After a lifetime spent restricting and downplaying his expressions of pleasure--whether due to the risk of discovery or out of concern for what his partner might think of him if he let go entirely--it isn't so easy for Dorian to allow himself to freely voice what he's feeling. But Bull has never made him feel embarrassed, and has already expressed that he doesn't care in the least if they're discovered. For him, Dorian wants to. He wants to give him that satisfaction.

"I'll let you hear my voice," Dorian agrees, "if I can hear yours as well." He can't help asking for the same in return; the noises Bull makes during sex are deeply arousing, from low growling to guttural groans to words murmured in his wonderful resonating baritone. Dorian wants to hear what Bull sounds like when he's enjoying himself entirely without restriction.

It's his second request, however, that has Dorian's breath catching. He can only partially envision what giving himself over to the Bull entirely for a night might entail, but imagines it would be immensely satisfying. If only it were simply a matter of trust. "I trust you, Bull," he says softly, but without hesitation. He wouldn't have been able to do half of what they've done together if he didn't. His thumbs stroke over Bull's cheeks before he draws him into another kiss, brief but affectionate, before he continues.

"Giving up control completely, however...I'm not entirely certain that I can." Retaining some power in sexual situations is almost a matter of self-preservation. Yet with Bull, it is a deeply appealing idea; one he's fantasized about, even, more than once. He shifts forward in his lap, fingers trailing down the thick muscles of his neck to rest on his broad shoulders. "But I'd very much like to try."

Bull caresses Dorian's throat after another tender kiss. "You won't give it up entirely," he points out softly. "You will always have katoh, Dorian."

The watchword that will bring a stop to everything, anything, that Bull is doing to check in with Dorian, to make sure he's alright, to give him comfort. Bull kisses him again and pulls their bodies tighter together.

"You will choose the night. You will tell me when and where."

Bull slides his hands beneath Dorian's loose tunic. He will give the mage all control until the moment that he hands it over, and after that, Bull will take care of him as best he knows how. He nuzzles Dorian's neck and gently bites his shoulder.

"But tonight," he adds, grinning against Dorian's skin, "it's just you, me, and this bed."

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