Been a hot minute, again, writer's block hit me hard after university so I'm just writing stuff as and when the mood hits. Current hyperfixation is Dragon Age so here's a collection of one-shots with my inquisitor and his friend. If you like it I have a two story idea in the back-burner for them so let me know if you'd like to see more!

Comfort

Teon comforts Cullen after a nightmare.

Dawn lazily spiralled through the hole in the roof, soothing warmth caressing Teon's face. He groaned quietly and turned away from the light, not wanting to let such a blissful night end. With his eyes firmly closed, his hand fell from the bed and his fingers felt around. They found Cullen's cotton shirt and used it as a shield against the sun. It smelled like wet marabi fur, yet somehow it lulled him to sleep. Almost.

A gentle whimper sounded beside his ear. For a delirious moment he froze, his mind catapulted to the circle where whimpering children missing their family were usually met with ridicule. Sometimes it was better to just pretend you couldn't hear it. It sounded again, rougher, clearly not that of a child. Teon lifted the cotton shirt from his eyes, immediately sitting up in concern as Cullen writhed beside him.

Cullen lay on his back with only his lower half covered by the bedsheet. His hands rested on his abdomen, bare chest rising and falling rapidly. Sweat dripped off every inch of him. What pained Teon's heart was the pure fear in his expression, his open lips trembling as panicked pleas to an unseen enemy spiralled out.

His hand lowered over Cullen's own, squeezing gently. I'm here. You're not alone. It'll pass. All in one touch.

The pleas worsened until Cullen's eyes snapped open. They darted around for a moment before slowly focusing on Teon. He softened, a flash of guilt crossing his features as he fell back against the pillow. Exhausted.

'Forgive me,' he breathed, his voice raspy.

Teon cupped his face, heart leaping as Cullen involuntarily leaned into it. 'There's nothing to forgive. Nightmares are nothing to be ashamed of. Is it to do with the lyrium?'

Cullen sighed, placing a tender kiss against Teon's finger. 'Not entirely. I had them before, but without lyrium it's worse.' His brown eyes suddenly bulged. 'I didn't mean to worry you.'

Teon scoffed slightly. 'I can worry a little. I just wish I could make it easier on you.'

Cullen's lips curled into a small smile. His strong arm snaked up to clutch the back of Teon's neck, carefully pulling him forward until their foreheads touched. Warm. Cullen was always so warm, even such a mere touch melted away the hurt. How ironic that a templar's touch could do such a thing.

'You do,' he whispered. 'I've never felt anything like this before.'

Teon wanted to say the same, but in truth it would be a lie. Instead, he said the only thing he had never said to another. 'I love you, Cullen.'

Those big brown eyes dilated, a gasp stuck in his throat that he had to swallow to shift. 'I love you too.'

Teon pressed a kiss against Cullen's forehead. Private affection was the only loving touch he had known, a rare thing not many could claim to have experienced with him. Fear of rejection and the rite of tranquillity kept him detached from most, let alone the secret of his true biology. And yet, despite that, Cullen was the most unsure about this relationship. No doubt withdrawal from lyrium played some part, his insecurities heightened.

Perhaps, that was why Teon needed to ease his racing mind however he could. Words to show his sincerity and physical touch to, well, prove that sincerity. He nestled himself into Cullen's neck, nose pressed against searing skin. Strong, protective arms wrapped around his waist, pulled him close, and soon enough they both slipped into restful sleep.

It was only an hour before an inquisition soldier burst through the office door, disrupting the peace.

'Commander, you are needed in the war room.' They said to the empty air. 'Commander?'

A growl grumbled deep in Cullen's chest. 'Always something,' he muttered under his breath. 'A moment!'

'I didn't realise you were still asleep, a-apologies commander. I'll inform them you are on your way.'

The door shut sharply. Teon smirked against Cullen's skin. No rest for the wicked. He sat up, aware of how reluctant Cullen was to release him, and slipped Cullen's shirt over his head. It fell just above his thighs, just covering what needed to be covered. He stood and began gathering up the armour from off the floor, deliberately bending over slowly.

When he turned around, predictably, Cullen was blushing and studying the wall intently. Teon shook his head. If it were anyone else it would've brought a stab of shame, perhaps a deeper feeling of disgust with his body, but Cullen? For Cullen it was being too respectful.

Teon helped him dress, fitting the clasps of his armour into place. It had become a ritual of sort, a wordless time between them that signalled the work of the day was drawing closer and they would have to part. To do their duty. To return to the reality of war, to the truth that Teon was an apostate mage and Cullen an ex-templar, the commander of the Inquisition.

He slipped the furs on slowly, not wanting to be finished. A finger lifted his chin. A deep kiss graced his mouth, lips forced apart by a surprising tongue. It was far more desperate than it had ever been before. Teon matched it, fingers quickly curling into his blond hair. They only pulled apart when neither could breathe.

'That was for teasing me,' Cullen grumbled.

Teon smirked innocently. 'How beneath you, commander. To accuse me of such things.'

Without missing a beat, Cullen responded. 'The only thing that I want beneath me is you. Wait, no, that came out wrong. I meant - maker's breath…'

Teon pressed a finger to Cullen's lips. 'I know what you meant, but your attention is needed elsewhere and I need to get ready myself.'

Once again, Cullen kissed his finger before clambering down the ladder leading to his office. He paused for one last longing look. 'Unfortunate, I was quite enjoying you wearing my shirt.'

'Go, before Cassandra blames me for your absence.'

He slipped out of sight. When the door closed, announcing his exit, Teon rubbed the back of his neck.

Andraste's tits, he needed to tease Cullen more often.