Dorian doesn't have to be told. He'd been on the edge anyway, and Bull feeling spilling in him, fucking him through it, pushes him over. His teeth sink into his wrist to muffle his cry as he comes into Bull's hand, heat blazing through him and whiting out the edges of his vision.
It takes him several long minutes to come back to himself afterward, where his body feels hazy and heavy. He leans forward onto the table, resting the warm skin of his forehead against the cool wood. He breathes slowly, deeply, trying to calm his racing heart.
Maker, they'd really just done that.
With still quivering fingers he reaches back wordlessly to hand the plug off to Bull. He hadn't planned it this way, but something about Bull plugging him up again makes his stomach twist pleasantly.
Bull takes the plug as he pulls out. He's quick to replace his cock, pushing the plug in slowly to let Dorian get used to the change. He leans low to brush a kiss over the mage's shoulder.
"Come on," he murmurs. "Let's get you back to bed."
Bull wants to offer to carry Dorian, but that might be a step too far. As it is, he helps Dorian cover up again, regaining as much dignity as either of them can. And once they're both covered, he coaxes Dorian to face him so he can gather him close in a kiss.
"You wicked thing," he murmurs, sounding downright tender as he admires the glow Dorian gets in the aftermath.
Despite how full the plug had been making him feel all day, the switch back to it from Bull's cock makes it more than evident that it had been a very relative feeling. That he now feels strangely unfulfilled by it makes it clearer to him than ever that Bull truly has ruined him for other men. Yet he can't possibly care, because he doesn't intend to have anyone else anyway. Not for as long as Bull will have him.
With that in mind, the idea of going back to bed is an appealing one. Carrying might prove too much, but Dorian certainly accepts another kiss after he's all in order again. He knows he must still be gleaming with sweat, but after he reflexively comes his fingers through his hair and re-curls his moustache, he's confident that he looks presentable. He has plenty of experience putting himself back together after quick, clandestine trysts--though not such public ones.
"First I should like to go back for the book I was reading before you interrupted," he grumbles, even as he inwardly preens at Bull's admiration.
Bull huffs when Dorian mentions the book. But he relents and follows after the mage so he can recover the book, at least. He stays close to Dorian as they make their way back to the guest wing, taking a more direct route than the one they used to get to the library in the first place. He keeps a hand low on Dorian's back, distracted by what he knows.
As soon as they're back in Dorian's room, the Bull sweeps Dorian into his arms and into a kiss. It takes nothing to carry him back toward the bed, offering some relief from all the walking Dorian's been doing while full.
Despite Bull's grumbling, Dorian does indeed make it a point to return to collect that book, still laying on the floor where he'd dropped it. It promises to be entertaining and he'd like to have it for later, should he and Bull ever manage to get their hands off each other.
It doesn't seem like that will be happening any time soon. Bull's touch lingers throughout the walk back to their room and Dorian isn't surprised when he picks him up again as soon as he has the chance. Dorian's arms go around him in return, settling around his neck. He doesn't let go even when he's lowered to the bed, grasping Bull's horns at the base to pull him along with him and into an impatient, searing kiss.
Rather than satisfying anything, it's as though their tryst in the library had merely whetted his appetite. The plug stretches him well, but not well enough, and he is still full of the Bull's seed. His clothes feel too heavy, but he isn't willing to release Bull's horns to begin removing them, too absorbed in the needy, impatient press of their mouths.
Bull hums his quiet approval as Dorian keeps a tight grip on his horns. He could pull away if he pressed the issue, but he doesn't, content to have Dorian directing him by the head. He meets every kiss with building fervor and remembers he can do two things at once: he works on getting Dorian out of his trousers and his boots. They'll have to pull apart to get him out of everything else, but that can wait.
He reaches down to catch the edge of the plug, to draw it back just enough to give it a gentle push back in, as if Dorian needs the reminder of what he could have. Through it all, he manages to keep kissing Dorian, until both of them are breathless.
It's a good thing that Bull remembers this ability, because Dorian is preoccupied enough not to think about it. His thumbs rub at the base of Bull's horns as they kiss, applying exactly the amount of pressure he knows Bull to enjoy, as the grip of his fingers keeps his qunari lover's mouth just where he wants it: namely, on his own. He's cooperative enough to lift his hips and stretch his legs out when required, but beyond that he moves very little.
What shocks him out of the warm, hazy stupor their extended kissing had lulled him into is the rocking of the plug inside him. His lips leave Bull's as he gasps, and a shudder runs down the length of his spine, a feeling the settles heavily in his lower belly. The movement and the hint of a more satisfying stretch prompt him to part his thighs to give Bull more space, even as sweat collects beneath the collar of the robes they haven't yet been able to remove. Half-dressed like this, he feels even more debauched than if he'd been entirely unclothed.
"Surely you don't intend to leave that there," he murmurs between them, unconscious of the borderline desperate edge to his playful words.
Bull eventually eases the toy out and sets it aside somewhere safe. He mouths at Dorian's neck and works on getting him undressed, intent on having as much skin to skin as possible. Dorian smells so good and Bull is quickly losing the ability pay attention to anything beyond him. He pulls back just long enough to undress himself, then bullies Dorian further onto the bed.
"I can't believe you've had it in all morning," he growls as he catches one of Dorian's thighs, pushing it up as his heavy cock rubs against him.
The process of ridding him of the rest of his garments is made more pleasant by the constant presence of Bull's lips against his neck, kissing and nibbling at his skin as large and dexterous fingers open the clasps on his robe. He moves his arms and lifts his shoulders as necessary to remove them entirely until he's laying beneath the Bull entirely bare. The sheets are cool against his back as Bull is radiating heat above him, urging him into the center of the massive mattress.
"I wanted to surprise you," Dorian murmurs, reaching between his thighs as Bull pushes one up, exposing the base of the plug plainly. "Pleasantly." He circles a hand around Bull's cock, stroking what he can reach mostly for his own pleasure. The weight and heat of it in his palm is satisfying, especially so when the wide head nudges along the length of his own cock where is rests against his stomach, well on its way to full again as well. "And succeeded even more spectacularly than I expected, apparently."
"You absolutely succeeded," he says warmly as Dorian takes him in hand. Bull keeps his eye on Dorian's face as he reaches down to remove the plug. He sets it aside and teases his fingers over the stretched hole with a quiet groan.
He leans down to kiss Dorian then. Bull can already feel his pulse pounding and he's intoxicated by the way Dorian smells. His pomade and his lotion and the scent of his warm skin beneath it all. He growls quietly and lifts his head.
"Are you ready?" he asks, voice heavy as he shifts his weight. Maybe it's a moot point to ask, but he does anyway. Bull will always ask.
As Bull eases the plug out Dorian's eyes flutter closed and his lips part in a shivering, uneven breath. It's a gentle stretch, and quickly over. Dorian leans up as Bull leans down, meeting his lips halfway. He moves as Bull does, both reactive and anticipating. They've done this more than enough for Dorian to know what makes this more enjoyable for both of them. A pillow under his lower back and another under his hips to tilt them up means that Bull won't have to crouch and Dorian won't have to strain trying to hold himself up.
"As ever," he replies warmly, reaching to cup Bull's jaw in his palm to draw him down for another kiss.
Bull hardly needs to ask, but it's sweet that he does. He never assumes things in bed, and while this might have frustrated Dorian initially, he's since learned to appreciate it. No one else has ever bothered to check in with him like this, let alone in a way that's compelling enough to make Dorian even more invested. The pitch of Bull's voice and the way his fingers rub around his rim make him almost desperately eager.
They know each other so well now. Bull helps Dorian get the pillows in place and leans over him for the kiss. He'll always ask: he always needs to be sure because he knows just how easy it is to hurt his partners. He doesn't ever want that to be a real danger again.
Bull uses a bit more oil on himself before he presses closer and pushes in. It's easier than it's ever been and Bull can't help the sound that escapes him as he sinks deep. He growls quietly and gives a firm rock of his hips just to make sure he's as deep as he can get. It will never get old to feel Dorian take him, but this--this has been something unexpected and different and easy.
He adjusts his position, practically cradling Dorian as he finds a steady pace that allows him to savor this more than he could in the library.
As good as it feels when Bull enters him--and it feels good enough to steal his breath, to make his toes curl--the most gratifying part of it is Bull's reaction. The involuntary noise he makes, surprised and gratified, and it's Dorian who's done that for him, who gave him something that even the Bull apparently hadn't known he wanted this badly.
"Maker, Bull," he breathes, strung along by the slow, languorous--indulgent, really--pace that he sets. He doesn't close his eyes, doesn't stop looking up through heavy dark lashes at Bull's face, wanting to see the slight shifts in his expression. With remarkably steady hands Dorian reaches up to untie his eye patch, letting the strings dangle from his fingers for a moment before dropping it onto the bed beside them and promptly forgetting about it.
He traces the lines of Bull's face gently, reverently, and with a tightness in his chest that has nothing to do with sex at all. His thighs spread wider, giving Bull more space to move between them, and Dorian sighs with contentment and pleasure as he sinks deep inside him, rocks out again, and then repeats the motion. It's never been so easy to take him before.
Bull closes his eye as Dorian reaches up to remove his patch. He opens it again, overwhelmed with how fond he feels, how much he loves that gesture alone. The way Dorian touches him--
Very few people have ever treated him this way in his life, and Dorian's tenderness has become something he treasures. Bull leans down to kiss him, trying to work through the sudden weight in his chest. He shifts so that he's practically cradling Dorian, covering him entirely. He murmurs in quiet Qunlat, all the things he doesn't dare say in a language Dorian can understand. The sweetness is broken up with kisses, as much as either of them can stand without getting too lightheaded.
Bull adjusts his position just so, tries to give Dorian the angle he knows will make him climb the bed.
Dorian carries the weight of his affection consciously, feeling it grow with each kiss and each word Bull speaks, no matter that he can't understand it. He's never minded it when Bull resorts to using Qunlat in bed. If anything, he finds it gratifying. And even eager as Dorian always is to know things, he's never felt the need to ask about it, to push for those answers.
Bull is over him, pressing him down, but Dorian delights in it. He feels heavy in the best way, with limbs that are languidly slow to move, pleasure filling and weighing them like molten lead. His reactions are slow but intense. His head tilts back against the bed, exposing his throat with a gasp as Bull shifts, presses into him in a slightly different way, grinding slowly and more deliberately inside him. His cock throbs where it lays against his stomach and his hips buck up of their own accord. His hands grip Bull's shoulders, fingers pressing hard into solid muscle.
"More," he urges breathlessly, with eyes that are somehow both bright and dark, focused and unfocused. Looking just at Bull, where the rest of the world around them is blurred. "Like that, amatus."
Bull works steadily, chasing that feeling building inside him and knowing, trusting, that Dorian feels the same. Every time the mage's fingers dig against his skin, every sound he makes, every time he moves his hips guides the Bull. He gets lost in how good this feels, how good Dorian feels. But there's something else behind his growing pleasure, something he hasn't felt in a long time.
It's easy to ignore until he finally comes. Bull growls sharply and pushes deep again and again until he--can't. Until he can't pull out. He freezes over Dorian, dazed but suddenly intensely aware of what's happened. He moves his hips experimentally and confirms that, yes, he's stuck. He won't risk hurting Dorian by trying to pull back, so he lets himself sink in again, as far as he can.
"Fuck," he breathes, voice edged with a low groan.
For a time, Dorian falls out of the rest of reality. It's more than enough just to focus on Bull, on how their bodies connect, on how they can give one another pleasure. There isn't anything rushed about it as there had been in the library, but the intensity is overwhelming. Dorian finishes before Bull does, coming untouched onto his stomach with a deeply contented sigh. As his body works through and past its peak by tightening around him, Bull finishes not long after.
Dorian thought that perhaps he'd been imagining Bull feeling bigger over the last several minutes, as every thrust had felt like he was being stretched open impossibly wider. But now that he's pressed deep, spilling inside him with a growl for the second time in an hour, it's unmistakable. The base of Bull's cock has swollen enough that Dorian can feel it, especially where it's pressed inside him. The shock of sensation as Bull moves is almost too much. Dorian clutches at his shoulders, gasps. Fuck indeed.
And he had been so certain that it was all made up, just more Tevinter propaganda to try and portray the Qunari as different, beastly. After all, he and Bull have been fucking consistently for the better part of six months now and this has never happened. But apparently there is more truth to that particular rumor than he'd thought.
Maker, what a way to find out.
"Bull," he ventures carefully, though with something like wonder in his voice, "did you--are we...?"
Bull actually looks somewhat embarrassed. "We're stuck," he confirms quietly. He adjusts their position slightly, making sure that he isn't in any danger of pulling back too far. He nuzzles Dorian's cheek and murmurs a soft apology.
"This hasn't happened in a long time." That doesn't necessarily make it any better right now, but he feels he can at least tell Dorian that this is completely unexpected. His hand rubs gently over the mage's thigh and he can't help the concerned look that flickers across his face.
"Are you alright? Am I hurting you?"
Bull finds himself incredibly grateful that Dorian used the toy now. If this had to happen, at least Dorian is well-stretched and has already been fucked once.
With that confirmed, Dorian breathes out slowly, closing his eyes. He's quick to come to terms with the fact that what he'd previously imagined to be one of his more ridiculous adolescent fantasies is actually very real and currently happening to him. It's the Bull's concern that snaps him out of that little reverie.
"No, no, it doesn't hurt at all," Dorian is quick to reassure him, raising a hand to Bull's face. His tongue wets his lips as he hesitates a moment before adding, "Quite the opposite, actually." Though it seems everything about this is entirely unintentional, the last thing Dorian wants is for Bull to feel embarrassed or guilty. Particularly when he's actually enjoying it--the novelty of it, and the way every minute shift of Bull's hips causes a tremor of pleasure to roll up the length of his spine like an electric current.
Yet naturally, he can't stem his own curiosity. "But why has it happened? And why now?"
Bull huffs a laugh when Dorian starts in on the academic questions now that they've established they're both alright. He leans down to kiss Dorian, lingering for a moment to comfort himself.
"It's uhm--the tamassrans always talk about it like it's a breeding thing," he says after a moment. "But it can also be triggered by... intense feeling."
The tamassrans specifically talked about emotional connections, something that might make plenty of sense outside of a breeding program. Under the Qun, however, it's something to be gently mitigated by tamassrans.
That kiss makes Dorian realize that perhaps his questions could have waited. Rather than talking, he'd prefer more of that. His hips rock gently, almost subconsciously, and he gasps under his breath as the swell of Bull's knot shifts with his movement, rubs right where he wants it to. His body shudders with it, tightening around Bull's length where it's buried inside him. It takes some conscious effort to make himself fall still rather than seeking out more of that pleasure.
Bull's explanation actually does make sense, in a way. "I imagine that there's very little about me that would recommend me to a Qunari breeding program," Dorian chuckles. Though the rest leads him to believe that perhaps it's an instinct that predates the Qun entirely.
"By intense feeling do you mean that I'm a particularly good lay? Which is true regardless," he's quick to add the last part with a quirk of his lips. "Or..." He has to be careful here. "Something less physical?"
Bull closes his eye and his breath catches when Dorian moves like that. If he keeps it up, they'll be stuck together longer. Or again. He settles his weight carefully, gently pinning Dorian a bit more as he rests on his forearms.
He could lie. Bull doesn't do it often, tends toward half-truths and misinformation. But he doesn't want to.
"Something less physical," he answers quietly. It's dangerous to admit it, to tell the truth, but he suspects Dorian already has a sense of it, otherwise he wouldn't have suggested the alternative.
As Bull settles over him, getting more comfortable and putting a little more weight on him in the process, Dorian gives a soft gasp. It's difficult to have this conversation while any movement at all is so distracting. But it's worth paying attention to, because while Bull doesn't say much, he says just enough.
"Oh." So quietly murmured it might as well have been an exhale more than a word. Over the months they've spent together Dorian has gradually come to understand that he really is a special presence in Bull's life. Whatever their relationship is, it's something new to both of them. Perhaps Bull can't love him as Dorian does, but this is confirmation that he feels something real for him, something strong enough to trigger these instincts.
It's nearer to a confession than Dorian ever imagined he'd get. His chest is tight, relief and elation and adoration welling up until his lungs feel too crowded in his chest. His breath is shallow, his eyes sting, but he's happy. Unbelievably so.
He reaches for him, taking Bull's face in his hands, turning it toward his and kissing him soundly.
Bull slides an arm beneath Dorian's neck, gently pillowing his head as they kiss. He could do this for the rest of the day and be happy, he thinks. When they finally part, Bull strokes Dorian's cheek. What he feels for this man is terrifying and he doesn't know what to do about it. If there's anything that can be done.
Struggle is an illusion. There is nothing to struggle against.
"Well," he murmurs quietly. "At least it happened while we have a bed. I'd feel worse if we were in a tent somewhere."
At least here, he can keep Dorian comfortable and they have relative safety to just relax together until this passes.
Dorian doesn't want to stop kissing for some time, so they don't. He's surrounded by Bull, and full of him, and the taste of him is strong on his tongue, but it still doesn't feel like enough. Ridiculous, but in the moment, he feels a need for him unlike anything else. He can't help wondering if that's what love really is, in the end. And if at a certain point, the nuances cease to matter.
When they part for long enough to speak again, Dorian clicks his tongue, tutting gently. "You shouldn't feel badly at all, Bull," he insists. "As I mentioned, I'm rather enjoying the experience." His thumb strokes along the hard line of Bull's jaw as he smiles up at him. "In fact, I wouldn't be opposed to repeating it."
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It takes him several long minutes to come back to himself afterward, where his body feels hazy and heavy. He leans forward onto the table, resting the warm skin of his forehead against the cool wood. He breathes slowly, deeply, trying to calm his racing heart.
Maker, they'd really just done that.
With still quivering fingers he reaches back wordlessly to hand the plug off to Bull. He hadn't planned it this way, but something about Bull plugging him up again makes his stomach twist pleasantly.
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"Come on," he murmurs. "Let's get you back to bed."
Bull wants to offer to carry Dorian, but that might be a step too far. As it is, he helps Dorian cover up again, regaining as much dignity as either of them can. And once they're both covered, he coaxes Dorian to face him so he can gather him close in a kiss.
"You wicked thing," he murmurs, sounding downright tender as he admires the glow Dorian gets in the aftermath.
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With that in mind, the idea of going back to bed is an appealing one. Carrying might prove too much, but Dorian certainly accepts another kiss after he's all in order again. He knows he must still be gleaming with sweat, but after he reflexively comes his fingers through his hair and re-curls his moustache, he's confident that he looks presentable. He has plenty of experience putting himself back together after quick, clandestine trysts--though not such public ones.
"First I should like to go back for the book I was reading before you interrupted," he grumbles, even as he inwardly preens at Bull's admiration.
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As soon as they're back in Dorian's room, the Bull sweeps Dorian into his arms and into a kiss. It takes nothing to carry him back toward the bed, offering some relief from all the walking Dorian's been doing while full.
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It doesn't seem like that will be happening any time soon. Bull's touch lingers throughout the walk back to their room and Dorian isn't surprised when he picks him up again as soon as he has the chance. Dorian's arms go around him in return, settling around his neck. He doesn't let go even when he's lowered to the bed, grasping Bull's horns at the base to pull him along with him and into an impatient, searing kiss.
Rather than satisfying anything, it's as though their tryst in the library had merely whetted his appetite. The plug stretches him well, but not well enough, and he is still full of the Bull's seed. His clothes feel too heavy, but he isn't willing to release Bull's horns to begin removing them, too absorbed in the needy, impatient press of their mouths.
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He reaches down to catch the edge of the plug, to draw it back just enough to give it a gentle push back in, as if Dorian needs the reminder of what he could have. Through it all, he manages to keep kissing Dorian, until both of them are breathless.
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What shocks him out of the warm, hazy stupor their extended kissing had lulled him into is the rocking of the plug inside him. His lips leave Bull's as he gasps, and a shudder runs down the length of his spine, a feeling the settles heavily in his lower belly. The movement and the hint of a more satisfying stretch prompt him to part his thighs to give Bull more space, even as sweat collects beneath the collar of the robes they haven't yet been able to remove. Half-dressed like this, he feels even more debauched than if he'd been entirely unclothed.
"Surely you don't intend to leave that there," he murmurs between them, unconscious of the borderline desperate edge to his playful words.
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Bull eventually eases the toy out and sets it aside somewhere safe. He mouths at Dorian's neck and works on getting him undressed, intent on having as much skin to skin as possible. Dorian smells so good and Bull is quickly losing the ability pay attention to anything beyond him. He pulls back just long enough to undress himself, then bullies Dorian further onto the bed.
"I can't believe you've had it in all morning," he growls as he catches one of Dorian's thighs, pushing it up as his heavy cock rubs against him.
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"I wanted to surprise you," Dorian murmurs, reaching between his thighs as Bull pushes one up, exposing the base of the plug plainly. "Pleasantly." He circles a hand around Bull's cock, stroking what he can reach mostly for his own pleasure. The weight and heat of it in his palm is satisfying, especially so when the wide head nudges along the length of his own cock where is rests against his stomach, well on its way to full again as well. "And succeeded even more spectacularly than I expected, apparently."
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He leans down to kiss Dorian then. Bull can already feel his pulse pounding and he's intoxicated by the way Dorian smells. His pomade and his lotion and the scent of his warm skin beneath it all. He growls quietly and lifts his head.
"Are you ready?" he asks, voice heavy as he shifts his weight. Maybe it's a moot point to ask, but he does anyway. Bull will always ask.
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"As ever," he replies warmly, reaching to cup Bull's jaw in his palm to draw him down for another kiss.
Bull hardly needs to ask, but it's sweet that he does. He never assumes things in bed, and while this might have frustrated Dorian initially, he's since learned to appreciate it. No one else has ever bothered to check in with him like this, let alone in a way that's compelling enough to make Dorian even more invested. The pitch of Bull's voice and the way his fingers rub around his rim make him almost desperately eager.
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Bull uses a bit more oil on himself before he presses closer and pushes in. It's easier than it's ever been and Bull can't help the sound that escapes him as he sinks deep. He growls quietly and gives a firm rock of his hips just to make sure he's as deep as he can get. It will never get old to feel Dorian take him, but this--this has been something unexpected and different and easy.
He adjusts his position, practically cradling Dorian as he finds a steady pace that allows him to savor this more than he could in the library.
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"Maker, Bull," he breathes, strung along by the slow, languorous--indulgent, really--pace that he sets. He doesn't close his eyes, doesn't stop looking up through heavy dark lashes at Bull's face, wanting to see the slight shifts in his expression. With remarkably steady hands Dorian reaches up to untie his eye patch, letting the strings dangle from his fingers for a moment before dropping it onto the bed beside them and promptly forgetting about it.
He traces the lines of Bull's face gently, reverently, and with a tightness in his chest that has nothing to do with sex at all. His thighs spread wider, giving Bull more space to move between them, and Dorian sighs with contentment and pleasure as he sinks deep inside him, rocks out again, and then repeats the motion. It's never been so easy to take him before.
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Very few people have ever treated him this way in his life, and Dorian's tenderness has become something he treasures. Bull leans down to kiss him, trying to work through the sudden weight in his chest. He shifts so that he's practically cradling Dorian, covering him entirely. He murmurs in quiet Qunlat, all the things he doesn't dare say in a language Dorian can understand. The sweetness is broken up with kisses, as much as either of them can stand without getting too lightheaded.
Bull adjusts his position just so, tries to give Dorian the angle he knows will make him climb the bed.
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Bull is over him, pressing him down, but Dorian delights in it. He feels heavy in the best way, with limbs that are languidly slow to move, pleasure filling and weighing them like molten lead. His reactions are slow but intense. His head tilts back against the bed, exposing his throat with a gasp as Bull shifts, presses into him in a slightly different way, grinding slowly and more deliberately inside him. His cock throbs where it lays against his stomach and his hips buck up of their own accord. His hands grip Bull's shoulders, fingers pressing hard into solid muscle.
"More," he urges breathlessly, with eyes that are somehow both bright and dark, focused and unfocused. Looking just at Bull, where the rest of the world around them is blurred. "Like that, amatus."
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It's easy to ignore until he finally comes. Bull growls sharply and pushes deep again and again until he--can't. Until he can't pull out. He freezes over Dorian, dazed but suddenly intensely aware of what's happened. He moves his hips experimentally and confirms that, yes, he's stuck. He won't risk hurting Dorian by trying to pull back, so he lets himself sink in again, as far as he can.
"Fuck," he breathes, voice edged with a low groan.
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Dorian thought that perhaps he'd been imagining Bull feeling bigger over the last several minutes, as every thrust had felt like he was being stretched open impossibly wider. But now that he's pressed deep, spilling inside him with a growl for the second time in an hour, it's unmistakable. The base of Bull's cock has swollen enough that Dorian can feel it, especially where it's pressed inside him. The shock of sensation as Bull moves is almost too much. Dorian clutches at his shoulders, gasps. Fuck indeed.
And he had been so certain that it was all made up, just more Tevinter propaganda to try and portray the Qunari as different, beastly. After all, he and Bull have been fucking consistently for the better part of six months now and this has never happened. But apparently there is more truth to that particular rumor than he'd thought.
Maker, what a way to find out.
"Bull," he ventures carefully, though with something like wonder in his voice, "did you--are we...?"
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"This hasn't happened in a long time." That doesn't necessarily make it any better right now, but he feels he can at least tell Dorian that this is completely unexpected. His hand rubs gently over the mage's thigh and he can't help the concerned look that flickers across his face.
"Are you alright? Am I hurting you?"
Bull finds himself incredibly grateful that Dorian used the toy now. If this had to happen, at least Dorian is well-stretched and has already been fucked once.
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"No, no, it doesn't hurt at all," Dorian is quick to reassure him, raising a hand to Bull's face. His tongue wets his lips as he hesitates a moment before adding, "Quite the opposite, actually." Though it seems everything about this is entirely unintentional, the last thing Dorian wants is for Bull to feel embarrassed or guilty. Particularly when he's actually enjoying it--the novelty of it, and the way every minute shift of Bull's hips causes a tremor of pleasure to roll up the length of his spine like an electric current.
Yet naturally, he can't stem his own curiosity. "But why has it happened? And why now?"
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"It's uhm--the tamassrans always talk about it like it's a breeding thing," he says after a moment. "But it can also be triggered by... intense feeling."
The tamassrans specifically talked about emotional connections, something that might make plenty of sense outside of a breeding program. Under the Qun, however, it's something to be gently mitigated by tamassrans.
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Bull's explanation actually does make sense, in a way. "I imagine that there's very little about me that would recommend me to a Qunari breeding program," Dorian chuckles. Though the rest leads him to believe that perhaps it's an instinct that predates the Qun entirely.
"By intense feeling do you mean that I'm a particularly good lay? Which is true regardless," he's quick to add the last part with a quirk of his lips. "Or..." He has to be careful here. "Something less physical?"
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He could lie. Bull doesn't do it often, tends toward half-truths and misinformation. But he doesn't want to.
"Something less physical," he answers quietly. It's dangerous to admit it, to tell the truth, but he suspects Dorian already has a sense of it, otherwise he wouldn't have suggested the alternative.
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"Oh." So quietly murmured it might as well have been an exhale more than a word. Over the months they've spent together Dorian has gradually come to understand that he really is a special presence in Bull's life. Whatever their relationship is, it's something new to both of them. Perhaps Bull can't love him as Dorian does, but this is confirmation that he feels something real for him, something strong enough to trigger these instincts.
It's nearer to a confession than Dorian ever imagined he'd get. His chest is tight, relief and elation and adoration welling up until his lungs feel too crowded in his chest. His breath is shallow, his eyes sting, but he's happy. Unbelievably so.
He reaches for him, taking Bull's face in his hands, turning it toward his and kissing him soundly.
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Struggle is an illusion. There is nothing to struggle against.
"Well," he murmurs quietly. "At least it happened while we have a bed. I'd feel worse if we were in a tent somewhere."
At least here, he can keep Dorian comfortable and they have relative safety to just relax together until this passes.
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When they part for long enough to speak again, Dorian clicks his tongue, tutting gently. "You shouldn't feel badly at all, Bull," he insists. "As I mentioned, I'm rather enjoying the experience." His thumb strokes along the hard line of Bull's jaw as he smiles up at him. "In fact, I wouldn't be opposed to repeating it."
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