aban_aqun | Modern Thedas AU

Entry tags:

modern au

Modern Thedas AU

When Bull arrived at the party last night, he hadn't actually been intending to crash. He didn't even get that tipsy, but by the end of the night he was too tired and too loose to really want to make the trip. Sera let him sleep on the couch and he'd been out like a light.

Still, he has the habit of waking up early. When he does, he puts away the fold-out bed and makes sure the living room looks more or less normal. After that, he shuffles into the kitchen to start poking through the cabinets and fridge. He figures it'll be a while before Sera crawls into the light of day, but he could stand to make some breakfast for whoever happens to be around.

Especially if, like Sera says, her roommate is actually around. Bull hadn't seen anyone new at the party, but then, he hadn't spent a lot of time wandering around. He tended to settle somewhere and let people come to him; it's easier on his knee.

He finds enough in the kitchen to make a sweet bread. He's impressed Sera has yeast and wonders absently if it's from his visit a few weeks ago; he'd come over to bake something for her, he can't remember what now. Doesn't matter. Two hours later, there are two braided loaves cooling on the stove top and the kitchen smells pleasantly of caradamom. Bull starts coffee after that and debates cooking more. He knows how much Sera can put away when she's hung over.

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They plan to see each other but it falls through. Bull isn't upset but understanding when Dorian explains (sounding frustrated over the phone) that he's been slammed with things for his coursework, and that it's getting near to finals time, and he has projects and experiments and--

Bull gently told him that they would see each other when they could. Dorian's coursework is important and a date can wait. They keep in touch in the meantime; Bull even downloads Snapchat so that Dorian can update him on his goings on that way. He has to admit, he likes getting the pictures. He's even sent some back.

He's heard his phone buzz once or twice that afternoon, but he hasn't had time to check it. Because it is finals season, students and professors alike are frequenting the cafe and buying things to take home. He's doing a second massive batch of their most popular items. He can smell the curry from the other kitchen; a lot of people come here for comfort food and though there's a lull, it's never a bad idea to start making more of staple dishes, especially ones that cook slow.

It isn't that he doesn't want to see Bull. In fact, it's quite the opposite. He's lamented every missed opportunity, every time class or coursework or just plain exhaustion got in the way. He exchanges texts and photos with Bull regularly, which has helped him get to know him even more than their initial meeting, and makes Dorian doubly sure that spending time with Bull would be enjoyable and worthwhile. Bull is amusing and crude and charming, and incredibly intelligent, even if it seems as though he's trying to downplay it much of the time.

He is also, thankfully, incredibly understanding. Dorian hopes that he doesn't think he's lost interest, given how much he's had to rearrange--cancel, really. While he might be able to find an hour or two somewhere to meet, he doesn't want this to be rushed or perfunctory. He wants to show Bull himself at his best, and he wants to be able to take his time, to focus on the present without worrying that he could be doing something arguably more essential.

But he still has to eat, after all, which is why late afternoon one weekday finds him wandering into a cafe-bakery spot he's never tried before. It was the smell that drew him, really; if he'd closed his eyes for a moment, he could swear he was standing somewhere on the streets of Minrathous. He's never smelled such convincing Tevinter food in the south before, and a taste of home is just what he needs at the moment. The hour is late enough that the lunch rush has mostly died down, and the cheerful Dalish elf working behind the counter tells him to seat himself and come up when he's ready.

He drops his satchel into a chair and drapes his coat over, and barely has to peruse the menu. The only thing he can think of eating now is the curry he's smelling, and that is what he orders.

"I'll have that curry, when it's ready," he says, which makes the elf laugh. "Do take your time. It smells well worth waiting for." He can take out his laptop and answer a few emails in the meantime, he thinks. Not a moment wasted.

Bull hears him through the open door. He chuckles quietly and puts the last batch into the oven before he heads to the cafe front. He gets there in time to see Dorian going back to his seat, nestled away with work.

He waits for Dorian to get absorbed before he makes a full appearance. Bull can go unnoticed surprisingly well for a man his size, and after a little while he stops by Dorian's table to drop off a cup of spiced tea that he suspects the mage would like.

"To tide you over until the curry is done," he says with a wry smile.

Absorbed in his work, Dorian truly doesn't notice the massive Qunari approaching until he hears the well-remembered rumble of Bull's voice. He gives a startled laugh as he accepts the cup of tea, and feels a smile tugging at his lips as he looks up at him.

"Bull! You--" to his credit, he puts two and two together rather quickly. "You must be the baker here." It would only make sense, give the excellent sweet bread. "Maker, it's good to see you. I'm sorry it hasn't been sooner."

Bull offers a warm smile. "It's my cafe," he answers. "It's alright, you've been busy. I have an inkling of what your schedule is like."

Students of all levels pass through and Bull tends to listen to them. Bull lets his hand rest on Dorian's shoulder for a moment and offers a gentle squeeze.

"I know you're here to work, but I have some time later, if you want to chat a while. We could make a dinner out of it."

Dorian's eyes widen a little at the correction. Of all the careers he might have imagined a man like Bull to have, cafe owner wouldn't have been among his first choices--yet in context, it makes perfect sense. "Oh! Of course it is." He feels relieved, or something like it. The menu certainly makes more sense. "If everything here is half as good as the bread you made me, you must be very successful."

He doesn't like to make excuses, but he's glad that Bull understands why it's been difficult for him to meet. Now that he sees him again, he wishes he hadn't been so particular. There is something about Bull's presence that is reassuring--something more than Dorian's irresistible attraction to him.

Still, he can't help noticing that Bull's hand covers his shoulder entirely, and there is something deeply thrilling about that. "Yes," he answers, surprising even himself with how earnest he sounds. "I'd like that. Frankly, I could use a break. And I had hoped to see you soon." He smiles. What Bull describes sounds very much like a date, which he isn't opposed to in the least. "Will you be making dinner, or shall we let someone else do that?"

"Depends," he says lightly. "If you want to eat somewhere quiet and private, we can go back to my place. If you want to stay here and work while we eat, Krem can make us dinner."

Hey, Krem is amazing in the kitchen and Bull is certain that Dorian will appreciate some very lovely, very homey Tevinter dishes. But Bull is solid in the kitchen these days and he has a handle on northern cooking himself.

"Should I check in with you in a couple hours and we can decide then?"

Dorian shakes his head. "No need. Quiet and private sounds best," he decides without hesitation, and gives a thin smile. "If we're to spend time together, I'd prefer not to work through it." He's been looking forward to this, and the last thing he wants is to make Bull sit with him while he's distracted by his work. Bull deserves his full attention.

"And I think it's only fair that I see where you live, as you've already seen mine," he adds, gently teasing. There's something about that which makes him oddly giddy. He's gone on dinner dates before, yes, but never at anyone's home. If he's invited there, it tends to be for a different reason entirely. Which isn't to say that Bull isn't intending that, or that Dorian would be upset if he was. But it's nice to have at least the pretense of something more.

With that reassurance, Dorian lays a hand lightly against Bull's arm. "A few more hours and I'll be done for the day," he decides.

"I'll check on you in a few hours," he promises. His shift will be up then anyway; the timing is perfect. Bull squeezes Dorian's shoulder before he turns away, and for the rest of his shift, someone always appears to give Dorian more tea when his cup is empty.

At the end of his shift, Bull checks in with the crew coming on to cover the evening. Then he goes to check on Dorian.

"Ready to go?"

Bull likes the idea of having Dorian in his home. As they walk out, Bull shrugs on a leather jacket - a gift from Krem, and pulls something out of his bag. He passes Dorian a helmet.

The hours Dorian spends working in the cafe are actually pleasant. He gets some grading out of the way, then has a little time left over to work on his own writing. Someone--Bull, he assumes--makes sure that his cup is never empty, and he feels satisfied enough with his progress by the time Bull comes to collect him that he doesn't feel guilty taking the night off. He's excited, actually; at last, the long-awaited date. If he'd known it was going to happen tonight he'd probably have dressed up more, but he looks smart enough in his fitted black denim and low-cut v neck to be passable. He's been going between the same two jackets for months; it's the lightweight one today, a sleek black bomber, rather than the wool coat he dons when it's colder.

Still, when Bull shrugs on a leather jacket and hands him a helmet, he suspects he may yet be underprepared. Certainly, he wasn't ready for the sight of Bull's shoulders in a well cut motorcycle style.

"Is this for what I think it is?" he asks with disbelief. Surely this would be too good to be true? Bull can't look like this, act like this, and drive him home on his motorcycle to cook him dinner. Men like that simply don't exist.

Except they do, apparently, because there is the bike--massive, as it must be to belong to a Qunari as oversized as the Bull. Dorian can't help an incredulous laugh. "I've never actually ridden one before," he admits. But he's clearly enthusiastic about trying.

"Just hold on. Promise I won't lose you," Bull says. Impressively, a helmet exists that fits over his horns - something custom, obviously. He settles on the bike and waits for Dorian to climb on behind him.

It isn't usually a long ride home, but Bull, maybe, takes a slightly more scenic route. What? Dorian's never been on a motorcycle before and there's no rush to get back. Far be it from Bull to cut the experience short.

But, eventually, they end up in front of a house and Bull parks in an alley off to the side.

"Come on," he says after he's helped Dorian down. "We'll go in through the back."

That means entering through a back porch and into the kitchen. It's sized for a human but is open enough that it isn't difficult for Bull to get around.

"I should hope not," Dorian laughs, carefully smoothing his hair back before putting on the helmet he's been given. He settles behind Bull, and only hesitates a moment before wrapping his arms as far around his middle as they'll reach, bringing him flush against his back. Bull is clearly huge, but looking at him and feeling it for himself are very different. His fingers curl into Bull's jacket, and as soon as he gives the okay, Bull starts the bike and pulls away.

The ride is exhilarating. Having never been on a motorcycle before, he has nothing to compare it to, but it's fun to feel the wind on his face, to feel unrestricted and free and slightly daring. But best of all, Dorian is pleased to note, is the necessary proximity to Bull. It's so nice that he's reluctant to relinquish his hold when they come to a stop. At least he has plenty to look forward to. His arms fall from around Bull's waist, and afterward Bull helps him off the unusually large machine, so Dorian winds up having to pull his hands away from Bull twice, which is really quite unfair.

Bull's home is small, but especially compared to Dorian's current living arrangements, it feels spacious. It's been some time since he's known anyone with a proper house. He looks around curiously, can't help it. The ceilings are high, but that's no surprise. They would have to be. The kitchen is genuinely cute, and sports several more pink accent towels than he was expecting. "This is charming," he compliments. "Has it always been just you here?"

It strikes him after he asks that the question could be construed in a far more personal way than he'd intended it. Hopefully Bull doesn't mind.

Bull smiles as Dorian takes in the kitchen. "No, Krem lived with me for a while, but he has his own place now."

He kind of misses having the company, but Krem has plenty of reasons to want to live alone, not the least of which being that he is finally, tentatively, starting to date and having a massive Qunari roommate is not always conducive to that. Bull doesn't mind: he's still an excellent wing man when Krem needs it.

He nods to the pegs on the wall where Dorian can hang his helmet and his jacket, if he wants. Bull shrugs out of his own to leave it there.

"Had to remember how to cook after he moved out," he quips. "Krem does the menu at the cafe."

Just his friend, then. That's an interesting tidbit to file away for later. Both helmet and jacket are removed and hung up quickly enough, and Dorian runs his fingers briefly through his hair to put it back in order. He'll follow Bull's lead when it comes to shoes. His boots are easy enough to slip off.

"If he was responsible for the curry today, perhaps I've made dinner plans with the wrong man," he teases. It had been a true taste of home, unlike anything he's eaten since leaving Tevinter. He drifts closer to Bull as he talks, far enough into his personal space as to be clear in his interest, yet not quite bold enough to touch. "But then, I haven't so quickly forgotten your sweetbread. You've set expectations high, Bull."

Bull laughs quietly. "I'll try not to disappoint. Want to help or just observe?"

The way he asks suggests that there is no wrong answer - if Dorian would rather sit at the little kitchen table and hold conversation from there, Bull is just as content to do the work himself. He turns on a few more lights so the space over the counter top is bright.

"Did Sera get any of the bread or did you hoard it?" He looks over with a grin and lifts his eyebrow. Dorian seemed quite enamored with it and Bull wouldn't be surprised if the only evidence of its existence had been the lingering scent of cardamom in the air.

"I'll help," Dorian offers, surprising even himself. But he wants to see the process up close, and more than that, wants to be near Bull.

As they talk, Dorian quickly removes his jacket, hanging it near Bull's, and then joins him by the counter. "Because I am a considerate friend and roommate, she got a loaf to herself," he sighs regretfully. "Not that she deserved it. She ate so quickly that I'm not certain she actually tasted it."

But Bull's smile is quite charming, and Dorian can't really be annoyed. He smiles back a moment later. "What will we make today?"

"Are you tired of curry?" he asks with a wry smile. It's an easy enough dish with so much room for variation, and it's a taste of home that Bull indulges in fairly frequently. He checks to see what he has to work with before he rattles off a few possibilities.

"Butter chicken, lemongrass curry with shrimp and rice. If you want something hot, we can do lamb in chili curry."

Bull's gotten better at adjusting spice levels for people that aren't used to the punch chili peppers can pack. But Dorian's from the north, and Bull can't help but wonder where his tastes fall.

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Modern Thedas AU

some time later

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