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Dorian was feeling pleasantly warm. The combination of the fire crackling in the grate of the small study he'd claimed off the Skyhold library, a snifter of good Antivan brandy in his right hand, and a borrowed romance novel in his left – a positively steamy tale of an Orlesian dandy abducted by pirates, a blissful departure from Cassandra's usual tastes – had left his cheeks flushed and his body relaxed and loose. But with every page he turned, his mind wandered further from the story. Perhaps it was the brandy clouding his focus, but his thoughts kept drifting to a conversation from three days ago.
“You ever want to explore that, my door's always open.”
Despite the near stifling heat of the fire, Dorian shivered. It wasn't as if he'd been fantasizing about the various erotic applications of Qunari horns for the past several weeks...
Except that he had, and he was absolutely disgusted with himself. The Iron Bull flirted with anyone who had a pulse. Dorian heard the way Bull talked to Cassandra, the tavern girls, even a few of the Chantry sisters. He felt like a fool for giving it a second thought. Surely Bull didn't truly want to fuck a Vint. He was only trying to get a rise out of him. Poking and prodding, playing Ben Hassrath mind games with Dorian's sexual proclivities. But to what end? For fun? For the sick satisfaction of watching him squirm?
Well, Dorian thought, it certainly was working. He drained his glass and reached for the bottle to pour another drink.
He took a sip and tried to find his place on the page. As warmth slid down his throat and pooled in his belly, his eyes settled on a rather flowery passage describing a pirate's tanned pectorals flexing and glistening while lashing sails. Dorian's mind wandered yet again to a different, eternally bare chest. This one was gray and scarred rather than tanned and glistening but flexed tantalizingly nonetheless with the effort of swinging a greataxe. Dorian crossed his legs to quell the sudden stirring between them.
“Venhedis, this is ridiculous,” he muttered and downed the rest of his brandy in one gulp. He marked his place before closing the book and setting it on the desk. He stood, intending to walk to his quarters and go to sleep, drive those images from his mind. He wouldn't even give his subconscious the satisfaction of a quick wank, he thought.
But Dorian's feet, seemingly of their own volition, took a wrong turn. They instead led him on a path across the castle courtyard toward the Herald's Rest. After all, what was the worst that could happen? He could show up at Bull's door only to be laughed at and told he wasn't being serious. It wasn't like Dorian actually cared what anyone thought of him – he was accustomed to being a pariah – but the thought of Bull laughing at him didn't feel right. The invitation felt genuine, but of course the Iron Bull was, until quite recently, a Ben Hassrath spy. Manipulating people was sort of their thing. But it was rapidly getting too late for second thoughts.
He entered the tavern, still busy despite the lateness of the hour. The smell of cheap Fereldan ale and the din of soldiers, scouts, and laborers laughing and talking washed over him. He started up the stairs to the attic room he knew the Iron Bull kept.
He turned the handle and, just as promised, the door was unlocked. Dorian was greeted by the scent of heavy, exotic incense and an unfamiliar blend of herbal tea. Bull was sitting at a shabby desk, drinking from a porcelain cup that looked almost comically small in his enormous hands. He was even more shirtless than usual, his weapon harness dangling from a hook on a nearby wall. He looked up from the papers on his desk as Dorian locked the door behind him. He turned in his chair and smirked knowingly.
“See, I knew you couldn't resist for long,” he said.
“Shut up,” Dorian hissed as he stepped across the too-small room, barely needing to bend down to kiss Bull roughly. He tasted like cardamom, cloves, and bittersweet herbs.
To Dorian's surprise, Bull pulled back.
“You've been drinking,” he said, his heavy brow slightly furrowed.
“No! Well, yes, a little.”
“I'm not going to take advantage of you when you're drunk, Dorian.”
Dorian huffed. “I'm not drunk! I've barely had two glasses of brandy.”
“All right, all right, I believe you,” Bull soothed, placing both hands firmly on Dorian's hips and pulling him in to straddle his lap. “So, how do you want this to work?”
“Y-you're asking me? What happened to...'conquering' me?”
“Is that what you want?”
“I...don't know. I haven't given much thought to the details, really.”
Bull grinned. “No plan then? Just an impulsive young mage rushing headlong into the arms of a savage Qunari? I like your style. Like something out of those books the Seeker likes so much.”
“You've read Cassandra's books?” Dorian snorted.
“One or two,” Bull shrugged. “One of the protagonists reminded me of you. Painfully coy until you poke him in just the right places. I liked that one.”
Bull's breath in his ear sent chills down Dorian's spine and the short hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His cock twitched inquisitively in his breeches.
“How about this,” Bull said, low and slightly hoarse. “I'll take the lead. We start slow, and see where it goes. I know you like your token protests, so if you truly want me to stop, just say 'katoh' and I will, no questions asked.”
“You don't have to coddle me,” Dorian glowered. “I'm not some blushing virgin.”
“I'm not,” Bull growled. “You'll barely be able to walk once I'm through with you, so I'm giving you an out if you need one. Got it?”
Dorian's prick gave another twitch against Bull's stomach and he stifled a low groan by leaning into a second kiss, nodding his agreement to the terms laid before him. Bull kissed back this time. He easily parted Dorian's lips with his own, stubble rasping against Dorian's chin. There was a light scrape of teeth as he sucked Dorian's tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. Their lips and tongues tangled together until Dorian could barely tell where his mouth ended and Bull's began.
He felt the growing bulge beneath him. It was massive and Dorian suspected it had a ways to go yet before it was at full mast. His cheeks flushed hot and his heart pounded in his chest. This was going to be a marathon rather than a sprint.
Their mouths still moving against each other, Bull began to tug and fumble at Dorian's extremely fashionable tunic.
“Why do Vint clothes have so many fucking buckles?” Bull snarled, breaking their kiss. Dorian could tell he was barely holding himself back from simply ripping it off his body. Dorian honestly wouldn't have minded in that particular moment, but he probably would have been a bit miffed after the fact, so he appreciated the restraint.
“Here, let me,” Dorian said and undid a few strategic buckles before tugging the garment over his head and casting it to the floor. He noticed Bull watching him, taking mental notes. For all the times Dorian had called him an oaf, the Iron Bull really was very intelligent and would certainly to do it himself next time with no issue.
Dorian was getting ahead of himself. Who knew if there would even be a next time?
Bull greeted the newly exposed expanse of Dorian's torso by drawing him close and greedily sucking a love bite beneath his collarbone. He trailed his hands across Dorian's taut chest. Dorian gasped when a callused thumb grazed a peaked nipple, sending shockwaves straight to his groin. Dorian reached up to grasp horns as he ground himself against Bull's pliant stomach. Not enough.
“Be patient,” Bull breathed. “I'll take care of that in time.”
“Hurry up then, or I'll just do it myself.”
“No, you won't.” It sounded like a warning.
Suddenly Bull was standing, carrying Dorian easily in one arm. He turned and Dorian reflexively hooked his legs around Bull's thick waist, still holding tight to his horns. With his free hand, Bull swept the desk in front of him clear, tinkling porcelain and scattering parchment the only sounds punctuating Dorian's gasp of surprise. He lost his grip on Bull's horns and landed hard on the wood of the desk, nearly getting the wind knocked out of him. Bull cradled the back of Dorian's neck in one hand.
“You good?”
Dorian nodded impatiently.
Bull went to work on Dorian's belt, then yanked his breeches down with his smallclothes, only managing to get them halfway down his thighs before they were stopped by tall boots, secured by yet more buckles. Dorian hissed as the cool air hit his erection.
“How long does it take you to get dressed, you big fop?” Bull lifted Dorian's legs in the air with one hand as though Dorian were an infant having his diaper changed. He was sure it looked most undignified.
“It takes time to look this good, not that you'd know anything about fashion, you great lu–” He let out an embarrassingly high-pitched whine as Bull spread his exposed buttocks, leaned down, and licked.
Dorian's eyes rolled back in his head and his world narrowed to the single point where Bull's hot, wet tongue probed at him, seeking entry. Dorian rested his bent legs on Bull's wide rack of horns, spreading them as far as he could with the bundled breeches around his thighs restricting his movement. He felt his hole flutter involuntarily against this new intrusion, but he willed himself to relax. It really had been too long since he'd done this.
As the tension seeped out of his muscles, he felt Bull's tongue delve inside and begin lapping at him rhythmically. Dorian gripped the edges of the desk in both hands and squirmed under Bull's attentions, tilting his hips upward to drive him deeper. He was fully erect now, a dewdrop of fluid gathering at the slit, and he was sure that he would go mad if someone didn't touch him right that second. He reached toward his own prick but Bull caught his hand.
“Naughty boy,” he admonished. “You don't get to touch yourself unless I say so. Now you don't get any more tongue.”
“Why don't you put your cock in me instead?” Dorian retorted.
“Oh, I will. When I'm good and ready.” Bull scooped him off the desk and carried him to the bed on the other side of the room. Dorian's hands snaked around Bull's neck. Bull laid him on his back and planted a wet kiss on his forehead, a tender gesture to belie his callous words. He then went to remove Dorian's boots. The buckles on them were much more straightforward than the ones on his tunic, and Bull made short work of them, taking Dorian's breeches off with them.
Dorian was now fully nude, his chest rising and falling heavily with desire and anticipation. Bull stood to admire his handiwork with a strangely soft expression. The imposing tent in his ridiculous striped trousers was now in full view and Dorian longed to see what was underneath.
“On your hands and knees,” Bull commanded, catching Dorian's pointed stare.
“Let me see it,” Dorian pleaded.
“Now.”
Dorian obeyed, in a sense. He stretched like a cat, arching his back and sticking his spit-slicked bottom in the air, swaying in a way he hoped was seductive. He felt the mild sting of a slap on his ass and his aching prick jumped as though surprised.
“Don't think you'll get it any sooner, acting like that.”
Dorian felt Bull move away and he shuddered from the loss of his body heat. The man was like a walking furnace and when Dorian was deprived of clothing the chilly mountain air seemed to burrow beneath his skin. Bull reappeared on Dorian's right side. He opened the drawer of the beside table and rummaged for a moment, drawing out and twisting open a palm-sized pot of waxy-looking, whitish salve. He moved back behind Dorian and brushed his hole with a single oiled finger.
The faint scent of coconut reached Dorian's nose and he was momentarily transported back to the warm, golden beaches of Minrathous. The feel of sand between bare feet, the sound of ocean breezes rustling the palm trees, a clandestine tryst with a pretty dance hall boy...
A thick finger sliding into him snapped him back to the present. Deeper and deeper it thrust, until Bull brushed the spot inside him that made him gasp and see stars. He crooked his finger just so and Dorian moaned desperately as his rock-hard cock dribbled a small amount of clear fluid onto the bed beneath him. He whined as the finger was removed, only to be replaced with two more. He felt so full already that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to take Bull's full girth. But slowly, carefully, Bull opened him up until a third finger slid in with little resistance. He worked Dorian's hole a bit longer before gently withdrawing.
“Do you want it?” he purred.
“Yes,” Dorian panted.
“Ask for it. Tell me you want my cock in your ass.”
“Yes, I want you to fuck me. Andraste's tits, fuck me, please!”
“Roll over. I want to see you.”
“If I do, will you shut up and fuck me already?”
Dorian rolled onto his back without waiting for an answer, spreading his legs and lifting his hips off the bed slightly. At some point when Dorian's back was turned Bull had managed to kick off his trousers and the smallclothes underneath, if he had even been wearing any in the first place. His cock was fully erect – long, dark gray, and nearly the thickness of Dorian's forearm. Dorian squirmed in anticipation. He reached out to Bull, who pinned his arms above his head with his left hand, and guided himself to Dorian's hole with his right. There was a carefully restrained hunger behind Bull's one good eye as he gazed down at Dorian's openly wanton expression. He eased the head of his cock into Dorian's ass and Dorian whimpered with the first few shallow, exploratory thrusts. Bull then buried himself to the hilt and Dorian cried out.
“Good?”
“Don't you dare stop.”
That was all the invitation Bull needed. He released Dorian's arms only to entwine the fingers of both hands with his own. He leaned down to catch Dorian's mouth in his, kissing him hard as he began fucking him in earnest. There was scarcely an inch of Dorian's skin that wasn't pressed against Bull's body. Dorian gasped and mewled underneath his massive lover for what felt like hours. The friction of his prick against Bull's moving body brought him close, so close. He could feel his balls drawing tight in anticipation of his climax when Bull's hand moved between them to grip the base of Dorian's leaking purple cock.
That was all he needed. He shouted without a care of who might hear as he exploded between them in four hot spurts. Dorian spasmed around the cock still fucking him, rubbing his insides raw. Bull lasted all of five more shaking strokes before Dorian felt him burst inside with a primal grunt.
Bull was just beginning to go soft as he slowly pulled out, leaving behind what felt like a vacuous cavern in Dorian's ass, a thick pool of cum dribbling from his abused, gaping hole. When his labored breaths began to slow, Bull moved away, just for a moment, long enough to dampen a soft cloth in the washbasin on the dresser. He wiped away the residue on Dorian's chest and stomach. The water was cold, but it felt good as the cloth swiped over his sore, stretched anus. Dorian charged a tiny healing spell at the end of a finger and circled the tender area, soothing and tightening it instantly, not enough that he wouldn't feel it tomorrow – his talent for healing magic was somewhat lacking, not that he didn't wish for the reminder anyway – but just enough that he would still be able to sit down somewhat normally.
“Huh, that's handy,” Bull muttered as he cleaned himself next. He tossed the soiled cloth toward a basket in the corner of the room and gathered Dorian up in his arms. Bull pulled the bedclothes over them and snuggled Dorian close, stroking his hair. “Did you get everything you needed?”
“I...what?”
“Did you get what you needed? Out of this.”
“I-I think so. It was quite an orgasm, certainly.”
“Is that all?” Bull prodded.
“It...I...it was...good.” It wasn't often Dorian Pavus was rendered speechless. Bull looked expectant, silently urging him to continue. “I felt...safe?” Dorian said in a small voice. “Like no matter how far you pushed, you wouldn't have hurt me. Like you were walking me to the edge of a cliff but holding me a foot back from it. How did you know...?”
“Ben Hassrath, remember? I'm good at reading people.”
“Why did you keep asking if I was alright if you already knew?”
“I needed you to know I was doing this for you, not me. Well, a little bit for me. You being a bratty little slut was really...” Bull growled low. “Something.”
“Shut up,” Dorian glared ineffectually. He couldn't seem to muster any venom behind it. It had all been spent, and now he was just warm and content. Bull pressed a kiss to his lips which could have been called chaste if he hadn't just fucked Dorian's brains out minutes before.
“You're welcome back any time,” Bull said without prompting. “If you ever want to do this again...”
“Think you'll have time for me with all the serving girls vying for your attention?”
“Oh, I think I'll have my hands full with just you...if you're interested.”
“I...yes, perhaps I will come back for more,” Dorian said. Bull quirked the corner of his lips in a tiny smile. He knew it was a promise.