"And to think," Dorian murmurs, "when we first became acquainted, I thought you a common brute." Perhaps not so basic as that, knowing about Bull's position with the Ben-Hassrath. Still, even when he'd been afraid of Bull--afraid that Bull would turn on him specifically, for being a Tevinter altus, perhaps--he'd not given him nearly enough credit. "I know better now. You may be a brute, but you are a singularly intelligent one."
It's telling, probably, that he very much wants to lean up and kiss Bull's cheek, brimming with admiration and affection. He resists that compulsion, and instead offers, "I have several hours more to spare. If you intend to spend the evening here, I'll keep you company."
Bull gives Dorian a very fond smile. "I'd like that company," he admits. "Bet I can get someone to bring us food here."
They are sitting at table and Bull has seen meals served here now that the kitchens in Skyhold are up and running. Bull is hoping, if he plays his cards right, he'll be able to woo Dorian back to bed with him by the end of the evening. He likes sharing a bed with the mage and he knows now for sure that Dorian enjoys it, too. Why deny themselves that comfort?
"I know you can," Dorian laughs, because he's seen Bull do it before.
They share a meal there, and after, Dorian doesn't even make a fuss about accompanying Bull to his room. They walk across the battlements together, talking and trading gentle barbs, close enough that their arms brush. The wind is cold, biting through Dorian's robes, but Bull is there to block the worst of it.
And after they fuck--again, for the second time that day--Dorian fits himself against Bull's body (huge and warm, rough and gentle, capable of making him feel sated and desired and cared for like he has never felt before) like he was meant to be there. He lays his head down on Bull's chest, stretches an arm across his soft middle, and sleeps more soundly than he has in weeks.
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It's telling, probably, that he very much wants to lean up and kiss Bull's cheek, brimming with admiration and affection. He resists that compulsion, and instead offers, "I have several hours more to spare. If you intend to spend the evening here, I'll keep you company."
no subject
They are sitting at table and Bull has seen meals served here now that the kitchens in Skyhold are up and running. Bull is hoping, if he plays his cards right, he'll be able to woo Dorian back to bed with him by the end of the evening. He likes sharing a bed with the mage and he knows now for sure that Dorian enjoys it, too. Why deny themselves that comfort?
no subject
They share a meal there, and after, Dorian doesn't even make a fuss about accompanying Bull to his room. They walk across the battlements together, talking and trading gentle barbs, close enough that their arms brush. The wind is cold, biting through Dorian's robes, but Bull is there to block the worst of it.
And after they fuck--again, for the second time that day--Dorian fits himself against Bull's body (huge and warm, rough and gentle, capable of making him feel sated and desired and cared for like he has never felt before) like he was meant to be there. He lays his head down on Bull's chest, stretches an arm across his soft middle, and sleeps more soundly than he has in weeks.