TITLE: Cullen's Dirty Little Secret
CHAPTER: Three
"The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." -Oscar Wilde
Two men, one dark and brooding, the other golden and fair lay curled together in Cullen's bed, hardly wider than the width one of their shoulders. Bonded together by the physical evidence of their passion and proprietary emotions they will begin to identify when dawn wakes them for the day. What started as a battle of wit and indecision ended in a night of passion.
The mage began to stir and starts for a moment when he fails to identify his surroundings. The man beneath him continues to sleep soundly, and Dorian relaxes his cheek against the steady heartbeat. They smell of each other's sweat and results of their lovemaking. The mage's hair is a mess and Cullen's morning breath floats over his sensitive nose. Long arms hold him possessively where he lay sprawled over the soldier's broad chest. If not exactly the silk cover and down feathers, he's accustomed to, it is a place of solitude, and acceptance and he never wanted to leave it.
Never wanted to leave it? Maker's breath, what was he thinking?
Wrapped in the memories of the past hours and the passion they'd shared. How in the depth of the night with only the light from the stars shining through the glass window they'd reached for each other a second time. Without, to Dorian's surprise, the usual competitiveness, or desire for control he expects. What Dorian found was a man shivering with arousal and shy about revealing it? So shy he pulled the blanket over himself.
Oh no, that won't do.
In the darkness, Dorian began to move over the sturdy frame. With a lingering kiss on Cullen's lips, the mage moved his mouth over the muscular body. Fingers rolled over hard nipples and squeezed firm flesh. The hard line of Cullen's pectoral muscle quivered under the scrape of Dorian's teeth. The hard belly rigid with muscle and heaving under the mage's foraging mouth and tongue. Men had so many sensitive spots they never acknowledged or explored. Dorian knew them all.
The mage continued to move over the soldier and finally settled himself between the man's legs. Cullen's hips were moving, thrusting helplessly and breathing in short gasps. Dorian paused and kissed the soldier while Cullen's fingers stroked the thick dark mane.
"Shhh, I've got you."
With careful attention to the soldier's reactions, Dorian made love to the man's cock with slow, languid movements and skill equal to the level of abandonment Dorian experienced by giving this man pleasure.
When he saw Cullen's legs open, he carefully and gently dragged a finger under the sack and along the tender skin, to touch the sensitive opening. It was a given that no one had ever touched the man this way and Dorian was gentle. To the mage's delighted surprise, Cullen's reaction was immediate and not so gentle. The touch caught Cullen in a shudder that moved his long naked body like a wave on the ocean. He grabbed the mage's hand.
"More."
For a long moment, Dorian studied the body laying so trustingly beneath him. With his legs spread, arms open, and his head thrown back. Raising up, Dorian moved his mouth over Cullen's lips. "I will do as you ask, but if I hurt you, then you have but to touch my arm and I will stop."
"Maker! Of course… Dorian please… touch me…"
Dorian settled himself between Cullen's legs again and without touching him with his hands, Dorian placed a chaste kiss on the tip of his cock. Cullen answered with a moan, and whispers of the mage's name.
With a wry grin, the mage swirled his tongue around the crown and down the corded ridge. When Dorian raised his hips to meet him, Dorian pulled the soldiers legs up, hooking his knees over his shoulders. While Dorian kept the soldier distracted making love to his cock, he wet his finger and slipped one inside. Then two. From that moment, it was all Dorian could do to hang on to the writhing man.
It was glorious, and the mage reveled in it.
Balanced between the foraging mouth and the fingers thrusting inside him, Cullen could only give in and surrender to the sensations. Equally mesmerized by the taste and feel of Cullen's body, Dorian felt a sense of abandonment strange to him.
The eager cock bumped the back of his throat with each thrust. When he felt Cullen's body harden toward a climax, he pushed his fingers deep, stroking the secret place inside, so few men knew. The impact of Dorian's ministrations brought Cullen up from the bed, shouting his name and climaxing in a shower of spent desire. When it's over, and Dorian withdrew, he realized he'd reached his peak in the midst of pleasuring Cullen. Now, that was a first, Dorian mused as they collapsed together and drifted back to sleep.
Now it's morning, and his is still resting atop the broad chest of the Commander. The mage suddenly realized two things. Both of which shocked him enough cause Cullen to stir. One, he'd never actually spent the entire night with a partner and second, the circumstance of finding himself waking in another man's arms the most romantic thing he'd ever experienced. And for a man for whom the word romance didn't exist, that was saying a lot. The whole thing crashed about in his head, causing him to twist away from the slumbering man.
Arms tightened around him and pushed his head back down. A sleepy voice filled with humor rumbled under Dorian's chest. "No lightning, no hell-fire burning me for my sins. Looks like we're safe."
"Speak for yourself. Imagine what they'll say back home when they find out I've bedded a Templar?"
"Then you'd better stay here."
Dorian rose up, "I was just thinking that very thing," he murmured running his lips across the hard line of a pectoral muscle and looked earnestly into Cullen's eyes.
"I'll protect you," Cullen said the words like a vow, smoothing his hands over the mage's smooth naked back.
"I rather think you would and not just from Venatori or an Archdemon, but for the same reasons I…"
"Tell me."
"You. You've quite turned my head. Not accustomed to this sort of thing."
"Dorian," Cullen murmured. "I want to say something about last night."
"Not necessary." Dorian began kissing the neck and shoulders to distract him. "I feel it too, dear man. But you don't know me, keep that heart safe a while longer."
Cullen chuckled again, "I'm not sure I can make that promise. I'm not the same man I was a few hours ago."
"Neither of us can predict the future. I admit that I intended to seduce you as a challenge. To get under that pious hide of yours." Dorian turned a genuine smile toward Cullen to let him know that he'd fallen under his spell. "Now... this morning, it's..."
Cullen sat up suddenly and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Eyes that a moment ago held innocent affection hardened. "Well, it worked didn't it. You're done here, then? Perhaps you'd better go."
"Allow me to finish."
Cullen shook his arm off and headed for the door. After gathering his clothes, he stopped. "Nothing more to say, Mage. I hope you enjoyed your amusement. Did you have a wager on it as well?" Cullen spoke over his shoulder to a bewildered mage, "I can only trust you'll keep this between us. Unless of course, you really have wagered on it. What did you call it? My dirty little secret?"
"Cullen, you're deliberately obtuse. Wait." But the door slammed shut rattling its hinges.
They didn't speak for two months. During that time, everything changed. The Inquisitor successfully closed the Breach and Corypheus utterly destroyed. The world took a deep breath and looked around. While, across the land, people began to return to their homes, restored crops and rounded up livestock. They celebrated their victories and cheered when the Inquisitor returned to Skyhold safe and whole.
In all those days and nights, through planning meetings, exercise, and meals the two men avoided each other. Cullen kept the experience locked away and turned toward what he knew, drilling the soldiers relentlessly and shouting at them to improve their skills.
While the mage thought about it every day. Wondering how the man had gotten to him, how to make it right and should he even try. Perhaps he'll simply pack his bags and go home to Tevinter. He could admit to himself that the Inquisitor's selfless acts inspired him to try to do something for his beloved Tevinter. He would go home, make some sort of peace with his father, and try to make things better. He was determined to try.
Late one night, in a hidden corner of the library, Dorian sat in a pool of candlelight reading. It was when he gave up trying to concentrate and tilted his head back to allow himself to absorb the peace and quiet that Cullen suddenly appeared.
"You can't leave, he needs you."
Dorian let the book shut with a snap. "For clarity's sake, may I assume you aren't referring to yourself in the third person?"
"You know who I'm talking about, Mage. The Inquisitor." It took all his pride or perhaps he'd put his pride aside to talk to the mage again. The mage was leaving in the midst of recovering from this battle, or war of magical mess or whatever it had been. He was needed here, and Cullen decided this arrogant and obviously lazy mage needed a reminder.
Dorian felt the same and slowly rose to his feet. "If you'll recall, Commander, from the beginning, the Inquisitor barely tolerated my presence. Once I proved my skills, he allowed me to stay. Allowed me to stay. I've endured slurs and outright distrust from the beginning, or perhaps you didn't notice. Then quite by accident, I discovered a quiet spot, a place of respite."
"Do not speak of that night."
"Ah, so you felt that too. Quite an admission coming from an emotionless pious soldier such as yourself. Yes?"
"I only came here to ask you to stay, for him."
"And once again, putting your needs aside."
"I'm not interested in your witless banter, mage. You will either stay and be helpful or go. I can do nothing more than ask."
"If you asked me to stay, I might," the mage whispered hope floating on his exhale and hammering in his chest. Yes, he was a stubborn man.
Cullen didn't answer.
With a long sigh, Dorian tossed the book to the stone floor. "I'm done here. Time to move on."
"Where are you going?"
"Home, of course. How did you put it? 'I'm not the same man'? Perhaps I can use some of my families influence to make some changes, do some good. I'll take my leave of you, Commander. I plan an early start in the morning."
The mage deliberately turned from the outstretched hand and fled the library. Cullen could only watch him leave and stayed still for a long time listening to the sounds of Dorian's quick steps as he left the hall.
In the blue light of early morning, Dorian buckled the saddlebags closed and patted the horse's rump before shouldering his cloak and closing the clasp against the early morning frost. Securing his staff, he noticed the bloodstains and scratches marring the beautiful wood. Well, it was to be expected he supposed, they'd both taken a beating and learned more about survival and the dark side of magic than he'd ever imagined.
When he took a last look over the dark stone of Skyhold and the slow movements of the waking town he felt no regrets. At least, none he allowed to enter his thoughts. There would be time enough on the road to explore those, and he dreaded it. He'd done good things here and intended to continue in Tevinter. Perhaps he would miss The Iron Bull's good-natured teasing, Cassandra's boundless pragmatism, Lilianna's glowering, and the Inquisitor's quiet courage. No, he was not the same man who banged on the gates of Haven so many months ago.
The horse snorted and stamped when he swung himself aboard and gathered the reins. No one came to see him off. It was better that way, no lingering goodbyes, no sad farewells. The guard who opened the gate for him wished him well.
"Maker be with you, vint."
Dorian threw up a hand in farewell and reflected that was about as much sentiment as he had a right to expect.
An hour's ride north brought him into the thick forest where few rays of sunlight flickered through the high trees. The chill and deep, relentless silence dragged him down to a place where thoughts of Cullen saddened him and made him wish for one more moment the soldier, where he could explain and set things right. He knew he'd pushed the soldier too far. But he meant to be there for him and never allow him a single doubt of what happened between them that night.
Deep in melancholy Dorian slumped in the saddle while his horse slowed his stride in response to the loosened reins. The silent green forest closed in around him.
Dorian had almost convinced himself he was looking forward to getting home, when his horse stopped suddenly, jerking the mage from his thoughts. He'd been stupid to allow his attention to waver. The mage readied his staff, sharp eyes scanning the tree line.
Its hoof beats muffled on the mossy ground a war horse stepped carefully into the narrow path. The rider, a faceless man, covered from head to foot in armor gazed at him from behind the visor's narrow eye slits.
"Even a powerful mage shouldn't go about the open country without an armed escort."
"I can take care of myself, Knight."
The stranger nudged his horse closer. Dorian's smaller horse held steady at the approach of the large destrier and the knight. Dorian's hands gripped his staff.
The Knight reached for his helmet and pulled it off his head. "No more a knight or even a commander. A simple foolish man who would escort you home… if you'll have him."
"If I refuse your services, Mister Rutherford?"
"I shall ride off, just as you have, to find my own adventure."
The mage pointed to the forest floor. "Do you believe this narrow path is wide enough for two?"
"Aye I do, Mage. Just as easily as my bed held the two of us."
With a voice cracked with emotion, Dorian tried to respond without betraying his full heart so suddenly full of hope. "Then I shall trust your instincts, Sir Knight. Shall we?"
They had ridden for several yards before Dorian stopped. When Cullen pulled his horse up, Dorian reached over and covered the gauntlet-clad hands with his own. "It means, 'my love.'"
"That it does, Mage. That it does."
finem