Blissfully unaware of Bull's far more self-aware train of thought, Dorian leans into the fingers carding through his hair. He smiles, pressing a kiss to the warm skin on the inside of Bull's knee as his hands move down to cover his ankle, spreading heat through joint.
"Oh, but you know that I only get into the fun sort of trouble," he teases in return. "Like trying to save the world from ancient magisters, slaughtering dozens of my countrymen, and bedding Qunari spies."
He lets his magic fade and rejoins Bull on the bed after he feels he's done a thorough job with his leg. He perches on the edge this time, leaning into the Bull's chest and resting his head on his shoulder. "I only mean to say," he continues softly, "that you've made all of this a bit less miserable. And I've been happy to get into trouble with you."
Bull slides his arm around Dorian to hold him close as he settles back. The sentiment is tender and Dorian is allowing himself to be vulnerable, two things that do not necessarily happen often. Bull knows how privileged he is to see this side of the mage, and that makes something in him ache. Dorian deserves better. He deserves far more than Bull can rightly promise to give him.
He tips his head down to kiss the top of Dorian's head. The words he says next cost him something, but he can offer a little honesty.
"Finding someone who understands my nostalgia has been one of the saving graces of this entire venture," he says quietly. It's more than that, though, far more. It isn't just that Dorian knows what cacao is or that he appreciates depth of flavor and spice in his food. Dorian is one of the only people in the Inquisition to have seen Bull through some very vulnerable, tense times.
He runs his hand along Dorian's arm, and even quieter, he says: "You ease pain, Dorian. I haven't been this comfortable in years."
Even now Dorian isn't being entirely open, hiding the depth of his feeling behind pessimistic phrasing and a lighthearted tone. But he's being far more transparent than his usual, which is something, especially when he curls close against the Bull's side, held there by the arm that curls around his back.
His hand, resting on Bull's chest, rubs a gentle circle over his sternum as he talks, feeling the vibrations of his voice beneath. He feels grateful for Bull's candor, recognizes how rare it is for him to even admit that he is in pain--of any sort--let alone that Dorian has eased it for him. It means...everything, really. Since the Winter Palace, Dorian has felt hopeful (perhaps unwisely) about what's between them, knowing that at least some of what he feels is reciprocated. It's the reason he's taken to sleeping in Bull's room every night, to gradually allowing their lives to intertwine even more intimately.
"My presence does tend to have that effect," he teases gently, affectionately. "I intend to keep you feeling very comfortable. I'm staying with you, Bull."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"Oh, but you know that I only get into the fun sort of trouble," he teases in return. "Like trying to save the world from ancient magisters, slaughtering dozens of my countrymen, and bedding Qunari spies."
He lets his magic fade and rejoins Bull on the bed after he feels he's done a thorough job with his leg. He perches on the edge this time, leaning into the Bull's chest and resting his head on his shoulder. "I only mean to say," he continues softly, "that you've made all of this a bit less miserable. And I've been happy to get into trouble with you."
no subject
He tips his head down to kiss the top of Dorian's head. The words he says next cost him something, but he can offer a little honesty.
"Finding someone who understands my nostalgia has been one of the saving graces of this entire venture," he says quietly. It's more than that, though, far more. It isn't just that Dorian knows what cacao is or that he appreciates depth of flavor and spice in his food. Dorian is one of the only people in the Inquisition to have seen Bull through some very vulnerable, tense times.
He runs his hand along Dorian's arm, and even quieter, he says: "You ease pain, Dorian. I haven't been this comfortable in years."
And he isn't talking about his leg.
no subject
His hand, resting on Bull's chest, rubs a gentle circle over his sternum as he talks, feeling the vibrations of his voice beneath. He feels grateful for Bull's candor, recognizes how rare it is for him to even admit that he is in pain--of any sort--let alone that Dorian has eased it for him. It means...everything, really. Since the Winter Palace, Dorian has felt hopeful (perhaps unwisely) about what's between them, knowing that at least some of what he feels is reciprocated. It's the reason he's taken to sleeping in Bull's room every night, to gradually allowing their lives to intertwine even more intimately.
"My presence does tend to have that effect," he teases gently, affectionately. "I intend to keep you feeling very comfortable. I'm staying with you, Bull."