Bull nudges his boots off at the end of the bed - he left his brace in his room - and eases onto it to join Dorian. He takes a moment to arrange himself, grateful that the Orlesians appreciated beds that are ridiculously proportioned. At least, Orlesians that could afford it. It's not the first big bed he's seen in this country.
He welcomes Dorian close as soon as the mage tumbles against his side. Bull steals the bottle of wine away just for a taste before he passes it back to Dorian.
Naturally, the mattress shifts beneath his weight when Bull settles down on it, causing Dorian to topple against him. He doesn't even make an attempt at avoiding it, instead using it as an opportunity to snuggle against him, ducking beneath his arm so that he can lay his head against his broad chest. The bottle passes back and forth between them and Dorian takes another swig.
"Hmmm," he hums, pretending to consider. "I may have another task for you to that end." He stretches his legs out on the bed, his knees brushing Bull's thighs as he curls against him. "I hurt all over from all the dancing we did. You might see to that."
Bull chuckles quietly and shifts so he can pull Dorian's legs into his lap. He slides his hands over Dorian's thigh and calf as he picks a leg to start with.
"I think I can do that."
A knock at the door announces the arrival of their food - something more hearty than the canapes but still easy to eat - and a moment later a servant comes in carrying a tray. Bull doesn't stop what he's doing, but he does thank the servant as they leave the tray on a table nearby. The servant leaves again and Bull wonders if this, the way he and Dorian are, will make for gossip in the quarters below. He shifts his hold and gently starts working at the sore muscles in Dorian's legs.
"Though you might need something to soak up all that wine," he teases warmly.
Even when a servant brings dinner, Dorian doesn't flinch away from Bull. It helps that Bull doesn't move at all either, but continues to rub Dorian's aching muscles even as he the elf before he goes. It's all very casual in a way that Dorian isn't used to, and yet he doesn't question it. Bull makes the strangest things feel right.
"Oh? Will you be feeding me as well? You really do want to get back into my good graces," Dorian simpers, smiling with nothing short of adoration. He shifts just enough to relax fully against Bull with his legs pulled across his lap, his bottle of wine held loosely in his lap.
"Mostly finger foods," he admits as he moves from one leg to the other. "Sandwiches, fruit, vegetables."
The sandwiches should be filling enough, but the rest is to nibble on. Enough to soak up some of the booze in Dorian's system, at least. Bull sweeps his thumb along the arch of Dorian's foot before his hand moves up his calf.
Dorian groans as Bull's large, strong fingers dig into his muscles, massaging away the tension there with the perfect amount of pressure. "Maker, you're good at this," he mutters, and tilts his head up to kiss beneath Bull's jaw. Reluctantly, he shifts his legs enough to free Bull's lap so that he can move.
"Please," he requests. "I was so preoccupied with drinking that I nearly forgot about eating." And now that he thinks about it, he's starving.
With a quiet grunt, Bull gets up carefully to avoid launching Dorian off the bed. He returns with the tray; the bed is massive so he doesn't feel bad sliding the tray right onto it, close enough for Dorian to take what he wants from it.
Bull eases back onto his side of the bed and pauses for a moment to get more of his clothes off, until he's down to his smalls. He can't quite bring himself to strip all the way: unless he's had sex with Dorian, he very rarely sleeps naked when they're away from Skyhold.
Dorian sits up enough to reach for a sandwich, balancing the wine bottle in his lap as he eats. But he pays attention to neither his food nor his drink. How could he when Bull is busy undressing in front of him? It's something he's seen--without exaggeration--a hundred times by now, but it's never become any less appealing. After this long, he doesn't think it ever will.
As soon as Bull is beside him and settled again he takes another swig from the bottle, then hands it off. With a hand free to help balance himself, it's easy to swing a leg over one of Bull's and press close, his thighs one either side of one of Bull's. His robe shifts, revealing a tempting measure of golden skin from knee to hip. "If you care to remove that last layer, I'll make it worth your while," he promises with an inviting curl of his lips. It would be a shame not to take advantage of this bed while they have it, wouldn't it?
Bull breathes a sigh as Dorian straddles his thigh and presses close. He sets the wine somewhere it won't be compromised and then slides his hands over Dorian's thighs. It almost frightens him knowing that he could spend hours just touching Dorian, contented by his scent and the sound of his voice.
He chuckles at the proposition.
"You sure you got it in you, big guy?"
It's been a long night, but Bull suspects that won't stop Dorian. Much.
Relieved of the wine and with Bull's big hands grasping his thighs, Dorian crowds closer. Warm skin against warm skin, he feels a spark of excitement, but more than that--and perhaps more importantly--he feels safe and happy, content in a way that has everything to do with Bull.
"I don't have it in me yet," Dorian says. The laughter in his voice is dangerously close to a drunken giggle. "But soon enough, yes?" He cradles Bull's jaw in his palm to steady him as he leans in to kiss the corner of his lips. "I've wanted you all night."
Bull turns his head as Dorian's lips brush against the corner of his mouth. He smiles and pulls the mage closer against him, encouraging the rock of his hips and the steady grind against his thigh and hip.
"It was the uniform, wasn't it?" he teased, his eye bright as he looks at Dorian's face. His hands slide over his hips and the perfect curve of his ass, then down along his thighs again. Bull just wants to touch him everywhere. It's been a long night.
With Bull pulling him closer, rocking against him is the obvious choice. It's gentle at first, a languid roll of his hips against Bull's thigh and hip, friction for the slow stirring of his cock. He hums approvingly low in his throat as Bull's hands wander over his body, holding and caressing. Dorian's eyes are equally as bright when they meet Bull's.
"It was how handsome you looked in the uniform," he makes a minor correction. "I wouldn't have appreciated it nearly so much on anyone else." His other hand finds a place against Bull's jaw as well, thumbs tracing the cleanly-shaved lines of his beard. "But you looked just as good sweating and shirtless and covered in blood. Choosing not to return to the party then was a very near thing."
"That big kitchen table was tempting," he admits as he pulls Dorian into a full kiss. His own cock stirs and he's halfway to full arousal as Dorian rocks against him. He can feel Dorian's cock getting hard against him and that spurs on the rush of heat. His hands slide up to cradle Dorian's face, holding him still as he tastes the wine on his tongue.
"Started wondering how quick we could be."
He'd even broken it down in his head, the different options, until they were interrupted.
Dorian sinks into the kiss just as he'd sunk into the bed earlier: easily, gladly, and with a wistful determination to enjoy it while it lasts. His lips part and his tongue slides eagerly against Bull's as it slides into his mouth. His hands trace down Bull's neck to his chest, both bracing and appreciating the curve of the thick muscle there.
"I knew we were thinking the same thing." He grins and kisses Bull again, slotting his cock against the warm, thick flesh of his hip. Maker, Bull's body is such a wonder. He wants to touch him everywhere. "I'm sure we could have made it back in good time if you'd fucked my thighs."
Bull groans low and catches Dorian in a sharper kiss as he thighs of fucking the mage's thighs.
"Didn't think of that," he rumbles before he takes another kiss. He almost wishes he had thought of it in the moment, but they have a tendency to get caught up in each other and neither of them was really willing to leave the Inquisitor hanging.
His hands slide down Dorian's back and over his ass to encourage the rock of his hips.
Dorian smiles against Bull's mouth, nipping gently at his lower lip as he pulls back to wonder, "Don't I always have the best ideas, amatus?" He says it so quietly, barely a breath between them. Casually, like it was nothing. But like so many other things that are meaningful to Dorian, he plays it down so as not to seem too foolish.
He has never called anyone that name--not deliberately, at least. He is terrified of ruining everything with it. But the truth of his feelings is impossible to deny now. If happily spending hours with Bull very publicly tonight has shown him anything, it's that the potential for something more exists between them, despite their obvious differences. And if he doesn't acknowledge it, doesn't fight for it, he'll regret it for the rest of his life. That potential is worth more than embarrassment, humiliation, or even potential heartbreak.
Pulse beating hard and breath short, he hurries to kiss Bull again purely so that he won't have to face the consequences of his actions, whatever they may be.
Amatus. Dorian has never called him that before and it sends a different kind of warmth flooding through Bull. Something softer, something deeper. He meets the kiss, pulling Dorian tighter against him. Bull moves his leg, making sure to keep Dorian pressed up against him as the mage chases his pleasure. It feels good.
"Tell me what you need," he murmurs, his voice deep and low between them as his hand strokes down Dorian's back. Bull wants to give him everything, anything he wants.
Bull doesn't reject him. He pulls him closer instead, affirming for Dorian that he hadn't been wrong to call him such an intimate thing. He sighs with relief, nuzzling beneath Bull's jaw as he rocks against him. The tight heat in his belly and the ache in his cock demand satisfaction, but what he wants more than anything is just to be close to Bull. Always, ideally. But failing that, for tonight at least.
"I want you to lay me down," he says. "I don't want to look at anything but you. And I want you to fuck my thighs." They might as well take full advantage of the bed. "I won't stop thinking about it otherwise."
Bull gently eases Dorian off of him and rolls the mage onto his back. For a moment, Bull just leans over him and takes his time kissing him, like he can taste the word amatus on his tongue.
Eventually he pulls back and eases up so that he can find the lubricant. He doesn't want either of them to chafe and he knows they have plenty of it.
When he finds the oil, Bull looks down at Dorian as he slicks his cock and uses whatever oil he has left on his hand on Dorian's thighs. He guides the mage's legs together and lets them rest against his shoulder.
"Like this?" he asks, checking in before he goes further.
Somehow Bull always knows just what he needs. Is it a Ben-Hassrath thing, or just a testament to how familiar they've become with each other? Either way, Dorian ends up on his back with his legs extended resting against Bull's chest, inner thighs slick with oil. It's just what he'd imagined.
"Just like this," he confirms, winding his fingers into the sheets under him. Though he can't reach him, Bull is there above him, huge and immediate, and Dorian can't look anywhere else. There is no way that his smile isn't a little sappy. He can still feel Bull's lips against his.
It almost feels too god to be true, being treated with such care and devotions by a man he'd called his beloved. To have his feelings accepted, at least--that's more than he'd ever thought he would have.
With that affirmation, Bull reaches down to guide his cock between Dorian's slick thighs. He sighs quietly and nearly closes his eye as he rocks forward. He can feel his cock slide along Dorian's and Bull allows himself a quiet, growling groan.
He keeps one arm wrapped around Dorian's legs, keeping them pinned against his body and keeping them closed as he moves his hips.
He has a beautiful view of Dorian and he takes in the sight of him, watching his face with every thrust. Normally when he's on top of Dorian, parts of the mage is obscured. This gives him everything.
That first press of Bull's cock is blissful. It feels hot against the inside of his thighs and he loves the smooth, sliding friction against his skin. The weight of it grinding along the length of his own cock makes him inhale sharply, his thigh muscles flexing and tightening.
"Kaffas," Dorian curses appreciatively under his breath. His fingers curl tighter into the sheets, anchoring himself. His ass is off the bed, held at the right height so that Bull can fuck his highs. The mattress is soft beneath his upper back, thick enough for him to sink into. He hasn't slept anywhere like this since he left Tevinter. It feels opulent and almost excessively decadent to fuck Bull on a bed like this, which makes it all the better. Dorian's always been one for decadence.
And Bull is stunningly gorgeous like this, muscles flexing as he holds Dorian's legs in place and rolls his hips for every smooth thrust. His smile, the bright focus of his eye, the impressive breadth of his shoulders and horns--and his entire body, really--Dorian watches, marvels, and feels exceedingly lucky. "Look at you," he murmurs, and reaches far enough that the fingers of one hand can touch his knee. "Maker, Bull, you're incredible."
It doesn't take Bull long to build up a steady rhythm; he only has to adjust their position once for the sake of comfort, and to make sure he's within Dorian's reach. He brushes a tender kiss to Dorian's calf as a warm hand brushes his knee.
Bull keeps one arm wrapped around Dorian's legs while the other circles their cocks, holding them together to give more friction as he fucks through Dorian's thighs and against his own hand.
"I was thinking of this all night," he confesses, quietly breahtless. "Just having you to myself."
It's likely the combination of the wine, Bull's encouragement, and how remarkably well tonight has gone, but Dorian feels, for once, like he is exactly where he should be. He's smiling, soft and bright, thumb smoothing over Bull's knee, just happy to be with him. A big rough hand lines up their cocks and he moans, tilting his head back against the bed, allowing himself to feel every bit of pleasure openly and letting Bull see and enjoy that.
That's the thing about doing this with Bull. It isn't just sex anymore. It hasn't been for some time. He doesn't do this just because he wants satisfaction, but because he wants to be closer to Bull.
"So was I. For the most part. At times I was quite pleased to have an audience."
"An audience, hm?" Bull grins and eventually he slows, just enough that he can adjust their position again. He coaxes Dorian onto his side so that he can lean close enough to kiss him without giving up his thighs. "You want everyone to see what you have, don't you? What you have and what they don't."
He nuzzles along Dorian's jaw and gently bites his earlobe. Bull's breath comes in quiet huffs as he grinds closer, losing himself in the easy, slick friction and the heat building between them.
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He welcomes Dorian close as soon as the mage tumbles against his side. Bull steals the bottle of wine away just for a taste before he passes it back to Dorian.
"Am I forgiven?" he rumbles warmly.
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"Hmmm," he hums, pretending to consider. "I may have another task for you to that end." He stretches his legs out on the bed, his knees brushing Bull's thighs as he curls against him. "I hurt all over from all the dancing we did. You might see to that."
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"I think I can do that."
A knock at the door announces the arrival of their food - something more hearty than the canapes but still easy to eat - and a moment later a servant comes in carrying a tray. Bull doesn't stop what he's doing, but he does thank the servant as they leave the tray on a table nearby. The servant leaves again and Bull wonders if this, the way he and Dorian are, will make for gossip in the quarters below. He shifts his hold and gently starts working at the sore muscles in Dorian's legs.
"Though you might need something to soak up all that wine," he teases warmly.
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"Oh? Will you be feeding me as well? You really do want to get back into my good graces," Dorian simpers, smiling with nothing short of adoration. He shifts just enough to relax fully against Bull with his legs pulled across his lap, his bottle of wine held loosely in his lap.
"What did you send for?"
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The sandwiches should be filling enough, but the rest is to nibble on. Enough to soak up some of the booze in Dorian's system, at least. Bull sweeps his thumb along the arch of Dorian's foot before his hand moves up his calf.
"Do you want me to bring the tray over?"
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"Please," he requests. "I was so preoccupied with drinking that I nearly forgot about eating." And now that he thinks about it, he's starving.
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Bull eases back onto his side of the bed and pauses for a moment to get more of his clothes off, until he's down to his smalls. He can't quite bring himself to strip all the way: unless he's had sex with Dorian, he very rarely sleeps naked when they're away from Skyhold.
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As soon as Bull is beside him and settled again he takes another swig from the bottle, then hands it off. With a hand free to help balance himself, it's easy to swing a leg over one of Bull's and press close, his thighs one either side of one of Bull's. His robe shifts, revealing a tempting measure of golden skin from knee to hip. "If you care to remove that last layer, I'll make it worth your while," he promises with an inviting curl of his lips. It would be a shame not to take advantage of this bed while they have it, wouldn't it?
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He chuckles at the proposition.
"You sure you got it in you, big guy?"
It's been a long night, but Bull suspects that won't stop Dorian. Much.
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"I don't have it in me yet," Dorian says. The laughter in his voice is dangerously close to a drunken giggle. "But soon enough, yes?" He cradles Bull's jaw in his palm to steady him as he leans in to kiss the corner of his lips. "I've wanted you all night."
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"It was the uniform, wasn't it?" he teased, his eye bright as he looks at Dorian's face. His hands slide over his hips and the perfect curve of his ass, then down along his thighs again. Bull just wants to touch him everywhere. It's been a long night.
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"It was how handsome you looked in the uniform," he makes a minor correction. "I wouldn't have appreciated it nearly so much on anyone else." His other hand finds a place against Bull's jaw as well, thumbs tracing the cleanly-shaved lines of his beard. "But you looked just as good sweating and shirtless and covered in blood. Choosing not to return to the party then was a very near thing."
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"Started wondering how quick we could be."
He'd even broken it down in his head, the different options, until they were interrupted.
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"I knew we were thinking the same thing." He grins and kisses Bull again, slotting his cock against the warm, thick flesh of his hip. Maker, Bull's body is such a wonder. He wants to touch him everywhere. "I'm sure we could have made it back in good time if you'd fucked my thighs."
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"Didn't think of that," he rumbles before he takes another kiss. He almost wishes he had thought of it in the moment, but they have a tendency to get caught up in each other and neither of them was really willing to leave the Inquisitor hanging.
His hands slide down Dorian's back and over his ass to encourage the rock of his hips.
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He has never called anyone that name--not deliberately, at least. He is terrified of ruining everything with it. But the truth of his feelings is impossible to deny now. If happily spending hours with Bull very publicly tonight has shown him anything, it's that the potential for something more exists between them, despite their obvious differences. And if he doesn't acknowledge it, doesn't fight for it, he'll regret it for the rest of his life. That potential is worth more than embarrassment, humiliation, or even potential heartbreak.
Pulse beating hard and breath short, he hurries to kiss Bull again purely so that he won't have to face the consequences of his actions, whatever they may be.
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"Tell me what you need," he murmurs, his voice deep and low between them as his hand strokes down Dorian's back. Bull wants to give him everything, anything he wants.
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"I want you to lay me down," he says. "I don't want to look at anything but you. And I want you to fuck my thighs." They might as well take full advantage of the bed. "I won't stop thinking about it otherwise."
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Eventually he pulls back and eases up so that he can find the lubricant. He doesn't want either of them to chafe and he knows they have plenty of it.
When he finds the oil, Bull looks down at Dorian as he slicks his cock and uses whatever oil he has left on his hand on Dorian's thighs. He guides the mage's legs together and lets them rest against his shoulder.
"Like this?" he asks, checking in before he goes further.
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"Just like this," he confirms, winding his fingers into the sheets under him. Though he can't reach him, Bull is there above him, huge and immediate, and Dorian can't look anywhere else. There is no way that his smile isn't a little sappy. He can still feel Bull's lips against his.
It almost feels too god to be true, being treated with such care and devotions by a man he'd called his beloved. To have his feelings accepted, at least--that's more than he'd ever thought he would have.
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He keeps one arm wrapped around Dorian's legs, keeping them pinned against his body and keeping them closed as he moves his hips.
He has a beautiful view of Dorian and he takes in the sight of him, watching his face with every thrust. Normally when he's on top of Dorian, parts of the mage is obscured. This gives him everything.
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"Kaffas," Dorian curses appreciatively under his breath. His fingers curl tighter into the sheets, anchoring himself. His ass is off the bed, held at the right height so that Bull can fuck his highs. The mattress is soft beneath his upper back, thick enough for him to sink into. He hasn't slept anywhere like this since he left Tevinter. It feels opulent and almost excessively decadent to fuck Bull on a bed like this, which makes it all the better. Dorian's always been one for decadence.
And Bull is stunningly gorgeous like this, muscles flexing as he holds Dorian's legs in place and rolls his hips for every smooth thrust. His smile, the bright focus of his eye, the impressive breadth of his shoulders and horns--and his entire body, really--Dorian watches, marvels, and feels exceedingly lucky. "Look at you," he murmurs, and reaches far enough that the fingers of one hand can touch his knee. "Maker, Bull, you're incredible."
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Bull keeps one arm wrapped around Dorian's legs while the other circles their cocks, holding them together to give more friction as he fucks through Dorian's thighs and against his own hand.
"I was thinking of this all night," he confesses, quietly breahtless. "Just having you to myself."
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That's the thing about doing this with Bull. It isn't just sex anymore. It hasn't been for some time. He doesn't do this just because he wants satisfaction, but because he wants to be closer to Bull.
"So was I. For the most part. At times I was quite pleased to have an audience."
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He nuzzles along Dorian's jaw and gently bites his earlobe. Bull's breath comes in quiet huffs as he grinds closer, losing himself in the easy, slick friction and the heat building between them.
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