Bull could take whatever Dorian dished out: not much fazed him anymore. Not the pound of Dorian's fists against his chest, not the sounds he made, and not the magic that, occasionally, just spilled out of him in moments like this.

The sudden rush of energy did have Bull moving protectively, though. One hand went to the back of Dorian's head, making sure nothing could hit it, while the other arm wrapped around him, covering as much of Dorian's vulnerable back as he could, even if they were in the center of the odd vortex.

Only when it calmed did he relax his hold, allowing Dorian to move as he needed or wanted to. Bull smiled small, still catching his breath as he stroked his fingers tenderly through Dorian's damp hair. His thumb brushed across one of the mage's eyebrows, tracing his brow.

"You're easy to be good to," he said softly. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Dorian's. Bull kissed him tenderly.