Cullen Rutherford, the commander of the Inquisition's forces, sat at his desk, his head in his hands. It had been another long night planning troop movements. The Inquisitor was going to be leaving for the Arbor Wilds soon and might not come back after. Corypheus was a formidable foe, one unlike any Cullen had ever seen before.
His stress was at a dangerous level. Never had he felt so on edge, so anxious about the outcome of a battle. Grumbling, the former templar pushed the documents he had been reading away and sat back in his chair, chewing on his bottom lip. A cold ale might be the trick to helping him relax.
Stretching out his aching limbs, the warrior stripped from his armor, the weight of the platemail dropping from his shoulders. It helped to ease some of the pain in his joints from all of the training practice, but not enough for him to be at ease. The alcohol would help with that.
Skyhold's tavern was filled with ex-templars, soldiers, Leliana's spies, and the Bull's Chargers. The leader of the group was sitting alone, a mug on the table in front of him looking untouched. The image of the hulking Qunari mercenary brought back the reminder of the past few nights. How Cullen envisioned the Bull naked as he'd pleasured himself. It brought a chill to his skin as he thought of it and he imagined Bull would return to his quarters if asked, even for one romp. Cullen, however, was afraid of the things he was thinking of, the things he was feeling.
Ignoring the nervous fluttering of his heart, Cullen took his drink from the bartender and sat at a table by himself. Raising the cup to his lips, he was startled when the liquid burned his tongue on impact. The commander nearly dropped the mug as he let out a cough, the alcohol setting his throat on fire.
The sound of Bull's roaring laughter reached his ears. Cullen's face turned red, embarrassment outweighing the discomfort he felt from the drink. When he was able to breathe again, Cullen turned golden eyes on the gray skinned man. "Is pain amusing to you?"
"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Commander. You ordered a drink that was clearly too strong for your tastes." The horned man tipped his head back and drank from his own tankard. He let out a growl before wiping his mouth. The small sound did things to Cullen that he wasn't used to. "No harm in trying."
"What do you know of my tastes, Qunari?" Cullen snapped, his mind going other places besides drink. He thought of how large the Iron Bull was below the waist, the image of what he'd walked in on over a week before crossing his mind… again.
The Iron Bull must have heard the challenge in the templar's voice. A grin crossed the large man's face. Placing his drink on the table, the Qunari stood, his muscles flexing with each movement. Cullen nervously swallowed, his eyes trailing from Bull's pectorals to the spot above his waistband.
Bull chuckled again and Cullen flushed at having been caught perusing the man's physique.
"It seems your tastes match mine, Commander." Bull said, suggestively. "Wanna find out what else we have in common. In your room?"
Cullen felt as if he was in a dream. The nod came automatically. He wouldn't have been able to stop it even if he had full control of his senses. He wanted to see what it was like with the Iron Bull. He wanted the Qunari to make him scream his name. He wanted to cum so hard that he saw stars.
Without another coherent thought, Cullen followed Bull from the bar, each step that brought him closer to his room making his heart thump excitedly.
Bull slapped his rear as they climb the stone steps to the tower that housed Cullen's quarters. "Horns up, Commander."