The Winter Palace

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.

Since it means having Bull closer, Dorian happily turns onto his side, reaching up to rest a hand against the back of his head as they kiss. Bull nips at his ear, pants against his neck, and Dorian shivers.

"Yes," he agrees, pressing his thighs tighter together. The steady drag of Bull's cock against his own builds the tight pressure in his gut, and the sensitive skin of his inner thighs feels raw and hot from the friction of his thrusts. "Because I have you. And they don't."

Bull growls when Dorian's thighs go tight and he leans down to bite his lover's shoulder.

"Dorian," he sighs and he nearly loses his rhythm as his peak hits. Bull pushes closer, managing to thrust quick and steady until he comes. He hunches over Dorian, holding him close as he slows but doesn't stop, wanting to see Dorian through to the end, too. He nuzzles the mage's temple, murmurs soft sweetness against his skin in Qunlat and Tevene, two languages that are never spoken together like this.

With Bull coming apart over him, groaning low against his ear and spending against the inside of his thighs, Dorian can't possibly last much longer himself. He understands only half of what is whispered to him so sweetly as Bull's cock continues to rock against his, but feels it in a way that is deeper than merely comprehending the words themselves. "Amatus," he breathes in return, just that word. Tonight is perfect; the Bull is perfect. And in this moment, Dorian would do anything, give up anything, to have this forever.

He feels his body drawing tighter, a wonderful ache that he lets Bull intensify into an immediate need. He moans as he comes, eyes sliding closed. Gradually the feeling of intensity tapers, but the ache lingers. His limbs are heavy. Bull is heavy too, wonderfully so. It feels like he is sinking into the bed beneath him, warm and soft and safe.

Bull is careful not to let his weight drop on Dorian, instead carefully easing himself down and bracing himself mostly against the bed. He nuzzles Dorian's hair, breathing in the scent of him as the mage relaxes beneath him. He lingers for a long moment, then slowly pulls back so that he can settle on his side behind Dorian. He knows he should get up to get a cloth, but he wants to indulge this for just a moment longer.

"And to think, you get to sleep in," he teases warmly as his hand slides along Dorian's side.

Dorian is in no hurry to clean up either. He's content to bask in the afterglow with Bull, lazy and warm and comfortable. It isn't often that they're able to lay like this, with Bull holding him from behind; usually the beds aren't large enough for them to lay across them so Bull's horns can hang over the edge. But this one is more than wide enough, and Dorian shifts back a little further, pressing his back to Bull's chest.

"You'd better not wake me before breakfast," he warns. "I have three days to spend in this bed and I intend to make the most of it."

Bull wraps his arm around Dorian to keep him close as the mage tucks against him. He smiles at the warning and buries his nose in Dorian's hair.

"Mm, wouldn't dare," he assures. Bull plans to get as much sleep as he can, but he knows he'll rise early and that he'll probably sleep light. He doesn't trust Halamshiral, even if the most obvious threat has been taken care of. There could be factions here that don't like the idea of a Vint so close to the Inquisitor, or who simply mean the Inquisition itself disruption and harm. With so many of Lavellen's inner circle in one place, they're a tempting target.

No, he won't be sleeping deeply tonight.

"Get some sleep," he murmurs. "We'll get you a bath in the morning."

"That sounds positively divine," Dorian sighs, agreeing mostly because he's already nodding off. With his body sated and a belly full of wine and the Bull curled around him, how could he remain awake? It's been a long day.

Perhaps he should consider the dangers a little more carefully given who he is and where he is. But he feels so safe with Bull that the thought hardly crosses his mind. "Perhaps we can bathe together in the morning," he muses quietly. "Do you think they have large enough tubs? Then we can go to breakfast. Tour the palace gardens..." His voice quiets until at last he trails off and his breathing evens, and he sinks into that exhausted half-asleep state just before true sleep. He's just conscious enough to find Bull's hand with his and lace their fingers, tugging it closer.

Bull holds Dorian as he drifts off and he doesn't let go through the night. He drifts in and out of sleep, never quite succumbing to anything too deep but still managing to get some decent rest. Enough that he's groggy when he wakes in the morning.

He's up before Dorian, but he doesn't try to move or free himself. Bull is afraid of how content he feels like this, how willing he is to stay like this - to stay with Dorian. This is a life he wants to get used to and a life that he knows he can't have. Struggle is an illusion: the Qun must come first, always, for his entire life to make sense.

It isn't hard to push all that from his mind, though. The morning light is soft and warm and he smiles faintly at the samm sound Dorian makes when he finally starts to wake.

It's bright already when Dorian finally stirs. He makes a soft noise, turning unconsciously to press closer to Bull. He's always had a habit of curling up with whatever is warmest, and since he started sleeping with Bull, that means that more often than not he wakes entangled with him. Eventually that became intentional rather than incidental, and he stopped waking up embarrassed about it.

This morning, when he finally blinks awake, he smiles almost immediately and doesn't hesitate to lean in for a gentle good-morning kiss. If mornings could be like this forever he'd be pleased.

"So it wasn't all an elaborate dream," he observes sleepily. "Is it late?"

"Later than your usual," he says warmly, the smile evident in his voice. He brushes a kiss to Dorian's sleep-tousled hair after that first brush of lips. Bull's hand slides down Dorian's back and up again, content to feel him so close.

"Did you sleep well?"

As far as Bull can tell, Dorian slept like a rock. The mage hadn't moved much and there had been no soft sounds to draw Bull out of his dozing.

"Better than I've ever slept on the ground or in a drafty castle room, certainly," Dorian replies with an amused curl of his lips. His back arches into Bull's touch with a gentle roll of his shoulders, but soon he gets an arm against the bed to push himself up. He reaches for Bull with one hand, tracing along the curve of a horn with a light touch. "But I'm ready to be up now. I need a bath badly."

He leans over to kiss the space between both horns, settling his hands on Bull's shoulders. "And how did you sleep? It must have been nice to fit entirely on the bed for once."

"Well enough. It did feel good to actually fit on a bed." He gives Dorian's ass a light smack. "Come on, up you go. They brought water for a bath, though you might have to heat it up again."

Which Bull knows isn't really a problem for Dorian. Once the mage starts moving, Bull rolls onto his back with a quiet groan. He adjusts the pillow beneath his head. He does miss his bolster, he should have considered bringing it.

Bull knows he should bathe, too, though he isn't sure he'll fit into the tub hiding behind the privacy screen.

Startled by that smack, Dorian instinctively moves toward the edge of the bed, and from there just keeps going. "Brute," he grumbles half-heartedly, sliding from the bed. On his feet, he raises his arms to stretch, rolling his shoulders and his neck slowly before he strides around the partition to inspect the tub. There is, indeed, clean water and a respectable selection of expensive soaps, lotions, oils, and scrubs.

"It'll do," he declares with a sniff, as though it only just barely passes muster. A finger against the edge of the tub draws a fire glyph and the water is steaming again in seconds. "I'll ask them to bring something bigger later," he declares as he climbs in. "You should come and get washed up for now."

Bull groans quietly in protest, but eventually he eases out of bed and follows the sound of Dorian's voice. Along with the tub there is a basin and pitcher and several wash cloths. Well, he can make himself presentable, at least. A full bath, apparently, is a bit too much luxury for someone of his size to expect in Orlais.

"I'm not sure they have bigger."

He wets one of the wash cloths in the tub and starts dutifully scrubbing himself down. Bull takes his time, at least, appreciating the warm water and the fire on this side of the screen.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject