Chapter Text
He regretted being honest when Dorian had asked him what he was thinking about. Iron Bull, with the help of Varric and Cole, was clearing their path through the abandoned mine shaft that was leading them through a mountain pass. Lavellan and Dorian trailed behind, hacking through spiders and other cave adapted creatures that continued to lunge out of the shadows after them, attracted by the noise of the fights and the light of their magic.
It was mindless work, and Lavellan's thoughts were a million miles away, something Dorian quickly picked up on. He'd asked, and Lavellan hadn't considered the consequences when he'd replied.
"I'm trying to think of a contest that I could beat Iron Bull at." It was a simple explanation, but apparently Dorian was just as bored as he was because his interest was immediately piqued.
"Oh? What kind of contest exactly?"
"I'm not really sure. Something I could challenge him to, but know that I could win. But...I mean, drinking contest?" He chuckled at the very idea, a sentiment Dorian shared with a wry smile.
"I imagine someone needing to carry you to your quarters- like the last time you tried to keep up with the Chargers drinking. Maybe something like a game of chess? You are rather good. You can't beat me, but you’re good."
"Yeah." Lavellan snorted, jabbing a thumb towards their front line. “He was playing mind-chess with Solas the other day. That isn’t happening.”
“So...a rift closing contest? You could win that for sure.”
“And somehow I doubt he would agree to that one. Especially if there were any sort of wager is involved."
"Oh? Just what kind of wager are we talking about, my dear Inquisitor?" Lavellan was almost grateful when gigantic spiders bearing their venomous fangs burst from the shadows, demanding their attention while they were dealt with.
"That is none of your business." He said bluntly to the Tevinter while he pulled out a little knife to divest the massive spider of its fangs.
"Well then, how about something simple? Who can put a shirt on the fastest? You'd definitely win if it had a tight collar."
"Oh! That's an idea! I wonder if I could get him to fall for that?"
Dorian was simply amused by the whole thing at this point, rolling fire between his fingertips thoughtfully as he considered. "Or how about a kissing contest?"
"W-what?" Lavellan blushed, suddenly very interested in carefully storing the spider fangs within his pack. "You're mad. There's no way to compare that."
"Oh don't be quaint, of course there is! I will offer to judge! Both of you kiss me, and I will determine the winner!"
Lavellan's blush was momentous as he peeked at the other mage, noticing the mischievous sparkle in the man's eye and the way he grinned and winked when he caught the elf looking at him. "That's not fair at all! Lavellan declared, turning to roast a crack in the wall where he spotted a deep stalker watching them. The thing let out a hiss and retreated. "You are just looking for an excuse to kiss Iron Bull! Don't think I haven't noticed you making eyes at him when you think no one is looking!"
"My dear Inquisitor." Dorian said in mock seriousness, turning to take Lavellan's hand in his own, meeting his eyes with such ruthless intensity that Lavellan was unable to defend against the blush that crawled up his neck. "I am wounded that you would think I'm not just as interested in kissing you. I assure you I would be most impartial! And perhaps even accept bribes in the form of practice kisses?"
Lavellan sputtered, trying to find words to yell at the Tevinter who promptly broke out into laughter, his mirthful outburst loud enough to scare a couple of nugs into fleeing down the mine shaft behind them. "You should have seen your face! Maker!" Dorian gasped, and Lavellan fixed him with a cold glare.
"You will pay for that someday!" He declared, because he had nothing better to threaten the Tevinter with, and he was too busy trying to hide his own amusement. They continued to walk backwards, sure that there were still a couple hungry deep stalkers watching from the shadows.
"Alright, alright. I've got it." Dorian said, gesturing with a flourish. "A contest of who can go without sex for the longest!"
Lavellan considered the option with slight dread, doubting it would actually be something he was willing to suffer.
“If you think that is something he’d be good at, you don’t know him at all.”
Iron Bull’s amused voice echoed behind them, and Lavellan spun around in time to see the qunari standing, leaning one arm on his sword that was stuck into the soft dirt of the mine shaft. Behind him, Cole was trying to lure a nug out of a crevice in the wall, and Varric was hunched over next to him, catching his breath. They had apparently stopped pushing forward, and he and Dorian had totally not noticed.
Or, judging by the way Dorian was grinning at the qunari, only Lavellan hadn’t noticed. He could feel his cheeks and ears burning, downright mortified. “H-how long were you listening, exactly?” His question ended with a squeak, and his embarassment grew stronger. Great, way to play it off cool.
“Well, Dorian was on to something with the shirt-wearing contest. But the kiss competition wouldn’t be so bad.”
So, pretty much everything. Great! “You were supposed to be clearing the path up ahead!”
“It’s only scared because it knows it’s delicious.” Cole’s voice rang out from behind them, making it very hard to keep an accusatory expression fixed on the qunari.
Iron Bull was grinning, clearly amused by the whole situation. “We hit a door with some of that mage-fire crap. So we were waiting. All the creepy crawlies only come out to play when they see your magic, so I figured I’d come help.”
Lavellan huffed, dusting off his arms like he was satisfied with that answer and that was all there was to the situation, trying to will his blush out of existence. He shot a look at Dorian when the Tevinter seemed far too amused by their exchange, before he turned back to Bull.
“Well, Cole’s nug made me realize what I could definitely beat you at.” He said haughtily as he walked up to Iron Bull, slightly to his side as if he was going to walk past. Should probably light the veil fire, anyhow.
“Oh? What’s that, Kadan?”
“I could win any contest involving fitting into small spaces. You qunari wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Iron Bull seemed to consider this for a moment, before his face broke into a grin that was evil enough to send a shiver down Lavellan’s spine. Oh, he had lost. The Iron Bull hadn’t even opened his mouth, but Lavellan knew he had walked face first into a trap.
“Not true, Kadan. Thanks to you, I have much more experience cramming myself into tight places.” Dorian burst into laughter, clapped his hands together, and Lavellan felt like his cheeks and ears must have caught fire as he blushed. He tried to say something, but all witticisms had deserted him and his mouth snapped closed just as quickly as he opened it, trying to glare and failing horribly with Dorian’s laughter and Iron Bull’s clear amusement countering his anger.
“Kadan, I had no idea your ears could get so red at the tips. You’d definitely win a blushing contest.” Iron Bull said then, and still chuckling he reached out, tugging the reluctant, blushing elf close to him for a moment to press a kiss to his temple. It was a simple little gesture, but Lavellan accepted it with a sigh, shaking his head. “You look good, all flushed up like this.” The qunari grunted to him, voice low. He needn’t of bothered with discretion, because at about that time, Cole had apparently grabbed the hiding nug and started trying to pull it out of it’s little hiding spot. The nug’s displeasure was voiced through several very high pitched squeals that echoed through the mine shaft.
“I give up.” Lavellan sighed, a soft smile pulling at his lips as he looked up at the qunari. The man had some blood smeared across his armor from whatever he had encountered, but somehow still managed to look appetizing. He opened his mouth to say something, but was stopped when Bull dipped low to steal a quick kiss, deep enough to be teasing, a promise for later. Lavellan’s blush was probably never going to go away, but at least everyone would think it from embarrassment, not arousal.
“You’ll tell me later, why you are trying to beat me in a contest, right?”
“My lips are sealed, you’ll never know.” Lavellan said with a defiant jut of his chin, slipping out of the qunari’s hold to join the others who were now dutifully admiring the nug that Cole was in the process of naming. Somehow the poor thing had calmed down, hanging limply in his arms as he hugged it. “Unless you think you can get it out of me somehow.”
His suggestive tone of voice, the quirk of an eyebrow and the little tilt of his hips before he stalked off had a visible effect, Iron Bull’s jaw tightening, his lips parting slightly and his eye narrowing. The unconscious flex of arms and hands was all Lavellan needed to know he’d made Bull rapidly think about all the ways he could extract information.
A turning Iron Bull on contest? Ha! He had that one in the bag.