Chapter 4: The Warrior and The Mage
Chapter Summary: It's been two weeks and still nothing... Both Dorian and Cullen are feeling a little tense while the Inquisitor is off questing.
UPDATE: Modified for M rating (for Explicit visit AO3).
'What would you know, Curly? You weren't part of our crazy gang,' Varric laughed.
'Well, I'm pretty certain The Blooming Rose wasn't haunted by the proprietor's former lover,' Cullen protested.
'Oh? Visit the local brothel much back then, Commander?'
'Only in the line of duty, Master Tethras,' Cullen smirked.
'That's not a denial!' Varric exclaimed, wide-eyed.
The Commander shook his head and took a sip of his wine. Normally he would blush at such teasing, but, Dorian noticed, he was completely unfazed. It was as if the warrior was finally unfolding after being tightly wound for so long. Of course, they still had the big tear in the sky and a blighted man-demon who would be a god… but they had down-time, and alcohol.
They'd dined like this for the last week, Cullen and he, while the Inquisitor was away questing. The week before, all three of them had dinner together most nights, but every time a well-meaning crew member joined them and they were no closer to finding a complete evening together for... Well, Dorian didn't want to think about that right now. He'd spent the first few days feeling like it was Satinalia's Eve, a heady mix of great trepidation and excitement. But unlike the wild celebration, there had been no release and he felt they'd gone straight to the fasting part.
Dorian pushed the last bit of druffalo steak around his plate. He knew it was a privilege to be invited into their bedroom, but he couldn't help feeling impatient. He hadn't had sex in ages. The happy couple could at least steal a few quick tumblings in between their duties, while he could only sully his sheets with his imaginings.
Varric got up to leave and the mage prepared to fix a smile on his face as he waited for Cullen to make his excuses too. But the man remained seated.
'Fancy a drink at the 'Rest?' the Commander asked.
Abso-fucking-lutely.
'I've got nothing better to do, I suppose,' Dorian sighed.
Cullen sat at a quiet table on the first floor of the tavern while Dorian got their drinks. There weren't many punters tonight so they could at least have some privacy.
The Commander had genuine reasons for departing early every evening that week. Nonetheless, he'd been glad not to be left alone with the mage. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy Dorian's company, but, without Nerys there, being around him felt too thrilling, almost dangerous. Yet... his lover had specifically requested that he stay behind at least one night and the man knew he should honour that. Besides he was a terrible liar.
Dorian appeared with two tankards of Fereldan beer and two shots of something deep red, apparently a gift from The Iron Bull. Before long they were laughing about Cassandra's obsession with Varric's smutty books and how Josephine looked like an Orlesian candy in her garish gilded wrapping.
At one point, Dorian touched the warrior's forearm and the brief action sent a bolt of sensation down his body. He became hyper-aware of the mage… the tones of his voice and pitch of his laugh, the supple leather of his clothing, blending almost perfectly with his light brown, smooth skin. When Dorian leaned close, Cullen breathed in his musky exotic cologne along with his natural warmth.
A commotion below broke the spell. The Commander peered over the side of the banister and identified the cause, Iron Bull and Grim arm-wrestling… When he returned to his seat he found it more difficult to look at Dorian and fidgeted uncomfortably.
'Commander, are you quite alright?'
'Yes, I'm fine. If you don't mind… I think I've had enough for one night.' He'd had a few restless nights since Nerys left so it felt plausible.
'Of course,' Dorian raised the corner of his mouth in a faint smile. 'You must escape the wicked mage before he pounces at midnight.'
The warrior studied him. For a fleeting moment, Dorian looked vulnerable. Cullen immediately felt protective of his companion and this time it was he who touched the mage's arm.
'Dorian, I…' he was going to explain how busy his week had been, but knew it would sound hollow. Exhaling, he confessed, 'It's not what you might do; it's what I might do that concerns me.'
The Commander didn't need to elaborate further. The mage's eyes darkened as his pupils dilated to their fullest and his breath caught in his throat. Cullen knew he had to leave before they both came undone. Mumbling a goodnight, he got up hastily, taking the stairs. Halfway up he remembered this was actually the way to Iron Bull's room but, luckily the Qunari was otherwise occupied.
Closing the wooden door behind him, Cullen took a deep breath. The room was bathed in moonlight and the air surprisingly fresh. Looking up he saw several large holes in the roof. He made a mental note to get the repair crew in when the door swung open behind him.
The Commander didn't move. He heard the door gently close... felt a hand squeeze his shoulder... a warm, taut body press up against his back. The warrior closed his eyes and tilted his head back, just a fraction. Soft lips scraped the skin on his neck so delicately he couldn't stop the moan escaping his throat. A primal urge pulled deep within his gut forcing him to round on his pursuer, taking his face in both hands and capturing his full lips with his own. Dorian tasted wonderful, beer mixed with brandy and something indefinably male.
Cullen's tongue probed him deeply while he kneaded the bare skin of the mage's left shoulder with one hand, the other clutching at his waist, resisting the urge to go lower. Dorian sucked Cullen's invading tongue eagerly. The Commander was vaguely aware both the man's hands had been pressed against his chest in pre-emptive defence, but now they were sliding down his body, snaking around to his rear. Dorian squeezed, hard, pulling Cullen's pelvis into his.
The warrior growled into Dorian's mouth, then pushed the mage backwards until he was up against the door. He scraped his teeth and lips over the brunette's cheek and his jawline to his neck. The mage gave a deep wanton groan and whatever control Cullen had was lost. Nothing but a rift opening up in Bull's room could stop him now. He slid his hand down Dorian's body until he could feel his hardness, straining against his trousers. He rubbed his thumb against the generous contours, while suckling on the man's neck. Their breaths coming panting and ragged now.
Cullen tugged at Dorian's belt and the mage's hands came frantically to his assistance. No sooner had he undone his buckle and buttons than the Commander shoved his hand under the layers and grabbed Dorian's hot length. The mage let out a guttural moan and pushed himself against the other man. Cullen looked at Dorian and saw bright eyes staring back with dark want. He was so beautiful in the moonlight, Cullen nearly forgot how to breathe. The Commander was vaguely aware on some deep level that they shouldn't fuck without Nerys present, but that was the only restriction he was willing, or able, to impose.
He sunk to his knees, yanking roughly at the mage's trousers. Pausing to admire Master Pavus' proud member, he nearly laughed when he noted it was actually smooth and elegant like the man himself. Cullen grasped his hips and felt the bow-string tension in his body. It was then that he wrapped his lips around him. Dorian's head must have snapped back judging by the thud against the door. He muttered something incoherent, possibly in Tevene, as the Commander continued.
Cullen let go of Dorian for a moment to undo his own trousers. The mage stayed perfectly still, breathing shakily. The Commander got a thrill when he realised he was not only in control of both their orgasms, but had actually silenced the usually vocal Tevinter. He looked up to see Dorian biting his lip as he gazed longingly at Cullen. He knew what that look could lead to and put an end to those thoughts by taking the mage into his mouth again. Dorian grabbed a handful of Cullen's curls as the warrior set a steady, firm rhythm before grabbing himself. He knew he wouldn't last either, he just needed to wait long enough for Dorian. If Bull were to open the door now, the Commander would almost certainly have him executed.
A whimper escaped from Dorian's throat, followed by a series of words in both Tevene and the common tongue. Cullen could understand, 'Maker' and 'Ah… ah… yes, yes' before he gave a gurgled cry of release.
After a few seconds, Dorian pulled his pelvis back to suggest Cullen release him. As soon as the warrior did so, the mage was on him, pushing him to the floor. Now lying on his side, pressed against the Commander, Dorian took over. It was Cullen's turn to moan as the man grabbed him expertly and leaned forward hungrily to kiss and probe the warrior's mouth.
After a few short moments, Cullen gave a muffled, 'Hmmm', indicating he needed more breath than his nostrils could give him. The mage conceded, just in time for the warrior to throw his head back, crying out.
The mage fell back and both men lay panting, satiated. After a few moments, Dorian started to laugh. Cullen joined him with a low chuckle, until they were both rocking against the floor gasping.
'Shit!' Dorian cried out. 'We should put our dicks away before Bull bursts through that door.'
That just made Cullen laugh harder while Dorian pulled up his own trousers and straightened his moustache. The Commander slowly got to his feet.
The two men walked quietly back into the tavern, checking each other's appearance before they descended the stairs casually and slipped out into the night. Cullen gave the mage a smile before heading towards his room. He didn't have any words or thoughts right now, his mind wiped clean, but he had a feeling he'd sleep better that night.
Later, Bull staggered up the stairs to his bedroom and pushed the door hard so it slammed against the wall.
'Oops,' he muttered.
Even in his drunken state, the Qunari could smell sex. He scratched his head. Was it from last night when the red-head-? No it was fresher than that and... what was that? A musky, exotic cologne rather like the one worn by a certain Tevinter mage… Bull narrowed his one eye, then shrugged, perhaps it was all in his head. He did rather fancy the pretty, moustachioed man after all. He smiled stupidly… one day soon I'll get him into bed, he mused before collapsing on his mattress and letting sleep take him.