aban_aqun | 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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"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.

Modern Thedas AU

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