NSFW


If one thing could be said about the Herald's Rest, it was that it was loud. Very loud. No matter the time or day it always seemed as if a perpetual din was floating out from the doors and windows to mix with the clashes and clangs coming from the training yard.

It made it the perfect place to drown out unwanted thoughts, which was the only reason Cullen could think of that he was tucked into a corner table watching as the Chargers sang drunkenly off key on the other side of the room.

"Look at this, Varric, the Commander does know where the tavern is. I wasn't sure he even knew how to leave his tower."

The voice made him start, the cup of brandy in his hand sloshing as he jerked his attention up to the smugly smiling face of Dorian.

"Now Sparkler, you know that's not true. He comes out often enough when the Inquisitor is around."

He moved his attention to Varric, a frown working over his face because he didn't trust the twin looks of amusement that were directed at him.

"So he does," Dorian agreed before sliding into a chair opposite the commander. "Care if we join you?"

"Why do I have the feeling it wouldn't matter if I said yes," Cullen questioned, his frown deepening when Varric slid another glass in front of him. "I already have something."

"Have something more," the dwarf replied, his smile widening as he settled himself into a chair. "So tell us, Curly, what made you decide the grace us with your presence tonight?"

Cullen didn't think he should reply, he didn't trust Varric, or Dorian for that matter, with the information, so instead he lifted his glass and finished off the meager contents.

"I'm going to guess it has to do with our lovely Nellie," Dorian started, his grin back in place as Cullen reached for the new drink, "and the fact that she'll be leaving in the morning and has been holed up with Leliana over her plans for the last few days."

Varric made a sympathetic sound that was completely ruined when he immediately laughed after making it. "Feeling lonely, Curly?"

That wasn't it. It wasn't. Cullen almost wished it was, because at least than he wouldn't seem like a lecher. No, he had found himself in the tavern because being by himself was only leading to… thoughts.

Thoughts of her, under him, over him, in front of him, her face flushed with pleasure, mouth open on a moan. He closed his eyes and downed the drink in his hand in one gulp. It was like he was a teenager again, all singular thoughts and fantasies of humping, well, anything.

And it was only getting worse because they were never alone, never got to take that next step, never made it past kissing before someone interrupted them.

He wondered if it was a cruel joke the Maker was playing on him with how often someone walked in on them.

And so he was here, in the loudest place he could find, drink in hand, because at least this way he couldn't hear his own thoughts.

He opened his eyes and saw a new cup in front of him and the other men still grinning.

"Shit, Curly, you have it bad."

He started to reply then simply sighed and reached for the next drink.

It was hours later when he stepped out of the tavern, the sun had set and long shadows fell over the courtyard from the nightly lamps. He had lost count of the number of drinks he had shared with the others, but from the way the world wavered and went soft around the edges he could only assume it had been quite a few. He knew he was going to regret it in the morning, but at the moment he couldn't be bothered to care because at least it had worked in taking his mind off of other things, and he found that it was also important that he focus more than usual on his feet and where he placed them as he turned towards the main hall of the keep.

He had almost made it to the steps when he heard someone calling him and he turned to stare blankly at the dark space that lead to the quartermaster's office and the person that was forming out of it.

It would be her, who else would he be lucky enough to see when he had just done his rank best to forget about them?

He watched as she made her way to him, her steps unhurried and her hands full of papers. She was also smiling, that slow, wide smile that she had that said she was pleased with something and that never usually failed to get him to smile back. Tonight though, while he still had too much brandy swirling around inside of him, it made him scowl even as he lifted a finger to point at her.

"We've kissed."

He watched as confusion flitted across her face, her steps drawing to a stop in front of him, before amusement took its place. "We have, a few times, are you drunk?"

He ignored her question, instead settling on an idea. "We're going to again."

"Are we?"

"Right now," he stated, reaching for her arm and tugging her around the building until they were half hidden against the shadow darkened wall of the tavern. He was dimly aware of the papers fluttering from her arms as he settled her against the cold stone, the wind causing them to dance for a few moments before falling into a sad circle around them, but he didn't care, not when the object of his near constant torment was currently blinking up at him in amused confusion.

"I didn't take you for the rutting in shadows sort," she murmured, laughter lacing through her words, and he almost answered that he hadn't either before deciding that more talking was not what he wanted to do.

So he kissed her. All the other times, well save for the first, he had started soft, content to let a slow heat simmer until they were both bothered enough to need more, but not this time. This time he immediately bit at her lip, his tongue laving over the sting before sinking into her mouth to tangle with hers. He pressed into her, forcing her head back and letting himself go deeper, his teeth catching at her tongue when it pressed past his and then sucking at it before pulling back just enough to speak against her lips.

"Do you know what you do to me?" He ran his hands down her sides with his words, molding them over her hips and then catching at her bottom so he could lift her higher against the wall, stepping in to pin her there and free his hands. "What I want to do to you?"

He took her mouth again; tongue dipping past her teeth so that he could run it over the rough silk of hers before she could reply. He could feel her hands creeping around his neck, too warm fingers sliding into his hair and gripping.

He forced his mouth to release hers, fingers coming up to fumble at the buttons of her shirt even as she tilted her hips into his, the heat of her rubbing against the hard jut of his cock where it pressed against the front of his pants. He groaned at the contact and gave up on the buttons once he had enough undone that he could press his lips to the soft skin between her breasts, his hands moving the fabric out of the way and flicking over her pebbled nipples.

"I've dreamed about it, thought about it," he said before lifting his mouth back to hers, words working their way out between kisses. "How I would take you. How you would feel once I was inside you. I want to make you scream, make you beg. Make it so you can't walk the next day. I want to know what you taste like when I shove my tongue inside of you, and the sounds you would make while your lips are wrapped around me. Do you ever think about it?"

The question was met with a stuttered moan and he watched as she struggled to speak but gave up as one of his nails scrapped over the peak of her nipple. He realized, vaguely, that he was still jerking his hips into her, the steady rhythm building pleasure even through the layers of their clothes. He assumed, from the way she arched against him, her hips keeping time with his, that it was having the same effect on her.

He bent his head to capture one of her breasts with his mouth, teeth clamping lightly over her nipple before he began sucking. Nell arched her chest even more forward at the feel of it, another cracked cry breaking from her as her hands scrambled for purchase against the slick fur of his collar.

Cullen realized, suddenly, that he could bring her to completion right here, could probably do the same for himself, and the thought had him increasing the pace of his thrusts, his tongue pressing against her breast before circling it and moving to the other.

He just needed to find a way to get both their pants off without putting her down… They were both so close…

The sound of the tavern door opening, and the bright burst of voices that followed it had them both freezing, the heavy sound of their breathing all that might give them away, and luckily it was covered by the ruckus that flowed from within the building.

What was he doing? What was he doing?

He pressed his forehead against her chest as he struggled to regain himself. After a few minutes the sounds disappeared and they were left in the silence of the evening again, from above him he could hear Nell's quiet chuckle.

"Where were we?"

He shook his head, his brow still pressing into her skin, before he finally pulled back. "We should stop. This isn't right. I'm drunk."

"I don't know, I thought you were doing very well." She sounded breathless, and he pulled back so he could see her face. Her eyes gleamed back at him like a cat's in the dark, something he had learned was normal for elves, but he could still read pleasure in them, and in the smile the curved her mouth.

He reached up a hand to smooth he hair back from her forehead, fingers skimming over one of her ears before dropping to her waist so he could set her on her feet and begin rebuttoning her shirt. "You deserve better than rutting in the shadows," he replied, using her words from early even as his brain seemed to flip in his head and went fuzzy again.

"I'm hardly a blushing maiden who needs some special first time, Cullen." She stated it matter of factly, humor tinting her words even as she reached up to smooth a hand over his cheek.

He turned his head to press his lips to her palm a moment before stepping away from her and taking her hand in his, his head tipping down so he could speak against her ear. "Be that as it may, I want to be fully aware when I finally take you. I want to remember every single moment, every single sound, and when you come…" He trailed off, a smile forming as he straightened. "Ah, Nell, when you come, when you scream out your release, because trust me, you will scream, I want to remember exactly what it looks like."

She stared up at him, eyes wide a moment before she blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand through her already wild hair. "That's an unfair thing to say when I have to leave tomorrow."

He smiled at the statement and started to walk towards the keep, Nell's hand firmly in his as she fell into step beside him. "Well, it'll give us both something to look forward to."

She made a face and leaned into him, brows lowering over her eyes even as she lifted her free hand to squeeze his arm. "I hate waiting."