All For a Kiss
A Word: Drabble for a kiss meme this one for the Gentle Peck slot.
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"Enjoying yourself, Commander?" There's laughter threaded through the words that slide through the chatter of the ball. Stuffy subjects with sly undertones and obnoxious titters that have been slowly driving Cullen mad. Varric's voice and presence is a very welcome change, and the man knows it going by his smirk. "That good, huh?"
The cup he holds up for Cullen is strangely shaped and expensive looking, but feels far more solid in Cullen's hand than anything else he's held so far. The drink inside is also heavy and bracing. Cullen takes a second, longer drink before turning a grateful smile on the dwarf. "Thank you, Varric. I am rather out of my depth here."
"It shows," Varric leans up against the wall next to him and gives a brilliant smile to a masked noble that Cullen's been watching inch their way down the hall towards him with a worryingly predatory gait. The noble, man or woman Cullen cannot honestly tell, pauses and seems stymied. "I hear his Inquisitorialness has been expressed some concern over the safety of your virtue."
"Don't remind me," Cullen groans. Maxwell has nearly been drawn into a duel once already as some foolish noble tried to fob off one of his our daughters onto Cullen. Cullen's politely horrified refusal had offended somehow and led the man to believe the Inquisitor was at fault. "I don't understand these people."
Cullen grimaces into his cup and shifts the slightest bit. His backside smarts from far too many questing fingers. They've been getting bolder as the event goes on, and Cullen's mostly sure her has bruises from the sneaky pinches he hasn't been able to dodge. He coughs to clear his throat and lowers his voice so that only Varric can hear him next. "I'm far more worried over them keeping their heads if they try again."
Maxwell had not been pleased, but it was Josephine who had been the most wrathful. Enough to escape her sister for a while and do something that earned Cullen almost an entire hour of rest from the prying questions and sly maneuvering of the game that made Orlais so mad.
"They'll be fine," Varric assures with more confidence than Cullen feels. The noble is over their dismay and is making their way towards him again. Faster now, skipping every other person in the hall in a way they hadn't been doing before. "You'll be fine too, Curly. You done with that?"
Cullen blinks down at his cup and finds it empty. Regretfully. Varric plucks it out of his hand and places it on a nearby table before plucking Cullen's hand up with the same motion. The man's laughing inside, Cullen can see it through the wickedly amused glint in his eyes over his knuckles, as he presses a light kiss to his hand.
"The thinkers have decided that you need a bodyguard to keep any more incidents from happening," Varric is the very picture of courtly elegance as he bows a little over Cullen's hand. Mannerisms similar to what Cullen's observed during the ball, and he knows there's meaning there that he just doesn't know. The way the people around him seem to react gives him a fair idea, but Cullen doesn't care. "How about we go out into the gardens and get away from this crowd?"
"I would appreciate that," Cullen says with a sigh as Varric leads him away from the spot he's been a little terrified to move from alone. Fearful of finding himself in a small room with no way to escape easily without causing damaging offense. He feels a little like a damsel in distress with one of Varric's broad hands settled firmly against his lower back as a guide. His pride will smart for it later. Maybe. "As long as it keeps my bottom from being assaulted again."
"What? You think I'm a perfect gentleman?" Varric exclaims in mock dismay and Cullen stifles a yelp as the hand on his back moves low and gives him a firm squeeze. "You ought to know better than that, Curly."
Cullen feels his face flaming from the action he really should have expected and takes the relative seclusion of the stairs they're going down to try to throw an elbow at Varric's head. His arm is caught and Varric laughs, low but good natured, in time to press another kiss to his hand. In full sight of the nobles mingling in the open gardens.
"Yes," Cullen grudgingly agrees and follows Varric as he expertly keeps them away from the larger groupings. Anger completely absent because he does know Varric better and his ability to make light of almost any situation is something Cullen is grateful for no matter what the situation. "Better the leech I know than the ones I do not."
Varric laughs, and the event goes reasonably well up until the assassinations start.
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