shok_ebasit_hissra | (no subject)

"I'll always have your back, Dorian. And not just for the view." He had to tease, he had to lighten the moment because everything he felt was too much and too good. He cradled Dorian to him, intent on keeping him warm and safe.

"Have you given any more thought toward possibly moving?" he asked, quiet but curious. Things had been slightly interrupted by his sudden age regression, but little Ashkaari had grown up again.

"I know for a fact it's a very nice view. You've seen Tevinters naked, haven't you? I'm not hairless back there out of the grace of Andraste."

He let out a very long, but not frustrated, sigh. He was just tired, nothing more.

"Give me an hour, Bull. A nap. And then I will give it all of the attentive thought you could possibly ask for. Be a lamb, amatus -- wake me up before too long?"

Bull laughed quietly. "Rest. I'll wake you and make you dinner." He adjusted his position to make sure they would both be comfortable.

Listening to Dorian fall asleep lulled him; Bull drifted in and out himself for a while, never quite falling under all the way. It was a little over an hour before he stirred again. Bull eased out of bed, making sure the blankets stayed over Dorian. He pulled on a pair of soft pants; his left leg ached, but he could handle it. He leaned on the bed and gently nudged Dorian awake.

"What do you want for dinner?" he murmured, voice warm and a bit heavy from dozing.

Edited 2017-05-03 06:45 (UTC)

Dorian woke with hair sticking up at odd angles, both on his head, and on his face. He woke with his eyes sticky from dried sweat and rainwater, and rubbed at them while smiling a lop-sided smile at Bull.

Dorian would never admit it, but there were people like Vivienne and Mae that he knew who woke looking effortlessly beautiful and charming. He, on the other hand, had to put a little work in, at least in his own opinion.

His voice took a moment to find itself.

"Thank you for waking me. Something light? Pasta, salad ... do you have anything cold to drink?"

He tucked the blankets up under his chin and rumbled a cough. He felt messy, but he also felt loved.

Bull watched Dorian wake, a small smile on his face. Even a mess, he thought the mage looked beautiful. He smoothed some of his hair back and leaned to kiss his forehead. "Go take a hot shower. I have some iced tea - hibiscus, I think. That and some dinner will be waiting when you're out."

He eased back from the bed, the fond look lingering. A quiet chuckle escaped as his odd kitten hopped onto the bed to nuzzle against Dorian.

Dorian made a surprised noise at the kitten on the bed. He was not necessarily an animal-lover, but he'd had a cat of his own once. Still, he didn't know how to deal with such a small one. It hadn't yet developed an adult cat's personality. Dorian pretended he disliked cats, of course; they were superior, crafty, and demanded too much attention, which were adjectives naturally which also applied to Dorian himself.

"I don't think you're going to want to shower with me, little bit." He scritched it under the chin.

"Alright. I'm off. I'll be out in fifteen," Dorian promised as he slunk off of the bed and grabbed a towel and one of Bull's smaller shirts on the way out to the bathroom.

"Hibiscus sounds perfect."

Bull lightly swatted Dorian's ass when he passed by. The kitten picked a spot in the bed, still warm with Dorian's body heat, and curled up.

He shuffled out into the kitchen to prepare something for them both - a salad, and he added some left over chicken for the sake of having protein. By the time the water in the bathroom shut off, Bull had bowls of salad set on the low table in the living room, along with a few dressing options and two glasses of tea. He thought sitting on the couch might be nicer than sitting on the table... and it gave him the chance to put his leg up on the ottoman he kept nearby for just that purpose. He probably shouldn't have run on it without his brace.

"Thought this might be a little more comfortable than the kitchen table."

Dorian exited the bathroom in a boil of steam, putting the finishing touches on the wax in his moustache. He padded on damp feet over to where Bull was in the living room, putting finishing touches on his spread, and stood on the tips of his toes to offer a pliant kiss. Bull's shirt was more than enough to cover all of the important parts of him, save perhaps that it fell off one shoulder. Which was not so much a bother to Dorian. He enjoyed showing just enough skin. Especially when he knew he was a picture in white.

"I have the night off. We could stay in and catch a film. Unless you've something else in mind."

Dorian was feeling game, despite the hitch in his walk. Though it was Bull's limp that worried him.

Dorian looked like something forbidden, wearing only one of Bull's shirts. He grinned and leaned to meet the kiss; he was very aware of everywhere the shirt didn't cover, and he was sure that was Dorian's point.

"Staying in sounds good to me. My brace wasn't at Krem's place." No one had thought to bring it; Ashkaari had perfect use of both legs. He sank down onto the couch with a quiet grunt and immediately put his left leg up; he left plenty of space for Dorian.

"I like the idea of going out with you, though." Bull grinned and gently nudged Dorian once he sat. "Maybe a date tomorrow, if we can manage to leave the apartment."

Dorian made a noise of sympathy and sat down on the sofa next to Bull, his legs tucked neatly under himself. It was easier to lean that way, so that he could rest one hand on Bull's bad leg, and let his magic do what it could to soothe away the inflammation.

The gentle green light flared to life on the tips of his fingers as he worked, the emerald waters of the Fade.

"A date. A proper date. With you. That does sound strangely lovely -- er, no offense, Bull." He hoped Bull understood how he meant it. There hadn't been much dating for Dorian in his life so far.

"Is that a strawberry balsamic? You know me too well."

Bull made a quiet sound, not quite protest, when he felt the tingle of Dorian's magic. He turned his head and kissed the mage's temple, trying to make his appreciation clear, despite his discomfort with magic in general.

He trusted Dorian.

"Yes it is, and of course I do. Ben-Hassrath," he teased. "I'm not offended. It's not like we had a lot of time - or options - in Thedas. Where do you like to go?"

That was certainly a question. Dorian placed his free thumbnail in his mouth and pressed it between his teeth absentmindedly, as his other hand still worked out the coils of pain and damage in Bull's leg.

"There's the opera, or the symphony orchestra. Movies are lovely too. The weather isn't nice enough yet for picnicking or swimming, but ... there's always walking by the boardwalk."

He felt the magic around Bull's leg uncoil something; that was good enough for now. Dorian turned his attention to the tea, and the food.

He poured some of the vinaigrette on his salad. Bull was a better cook than he was, by far.

Bull hissed quietly when something... happened, in his leg. Then he sighed, sinking back in relief. "Thank you," he said quietly, because no matter how much he fussed about it, he did appreciate it. He knew Dorian did it because he cared.

He put a different dressing on his own salad and sat back with the bowl, intent on keeping his leg up.

"I do like the beach," he admitted. It reminded him of a home he'd left behind long, long ago. He liked the smell of the sea; he liked the taste of the salt on Dorian's skin. "Whatever you like, we'll find something." He was open to trying new things, and being the odd man out hadn't stopped him from going places yet.

Dorian gave Bull an odd look. He appreciated the thanks, but he hadn't needed it. He was no great healer, but he did what he could do, and he saw it only as sensible to help Bull's pain with his magic. Bull, of course, hadn't been raised with much contact with Andrastianism, even the Tevinter flavor. But Dorian was, after a fashion, Andrastian. And magic was meant to serve man.

To not help Bull at all would have been more remarkable, to Dorian.

It could also have been that he was, despite the appearances he cultured, of a kind and gentle nature.

"The beach then. Because, ah -- we may have to make special arrangements at the playhouse. On account of your very impressive rack."

He offered Bull a fond smile before picking up his own bowl and fork, to follow suit, and finding himself a place tucked against Bull's side. He liked that about having Bull around.

Well, he liked having Bull around.

"I was thinking of that," he admitted. "But it's easy to sit in the back of movie theaters." So maybe not a play or opera or something, but they could catch a movie at least, if they felt inclined.

"Bet we could find more of that fried dough on the boardwalk. Like what you had last month at the Founder's Day to-do. Mm, speaking of."

Bull leaned forward to pluck up a wooden box sitting on the side table nearest him; from that he took another, smaller box, and he offered it to Dorian. He'd been saving it since Founder's Day, when Dorian spied him jewelry shopping. "I thought it would look good on you... and the seller said the stone was called dragon's breath."

Dorian set his bowl of salad aside and took the little box from Bull. Opening it revealed, nestled on black velvet, an exquisite ring. It was not an outrageously expensive piece, made of what seemed to be brass, perhaps, and set with a single, huge, glorious opal. In the light of the apartment, it had a milky glow; it seemed almost alive. Like, true to its name, it was a living and breathing flame inside. It was perfectly mundane, of course -- at least, it was right now, and Dorian had oh so many plans -- but that only seemed to add to the beauty of it. It was just a piece of stone, made that way by nature.

Dorian was struck dumb for a handful of heartbeats. Even once he thought he'd found his voice again, he didn't speak, but instead threw his arms around Bull's neck and hugged him with ferocity.

"You have any eye for this sort of thing."

It meant My gods, I didn't think I could love you any harder.

"Put it on. Here, put it on."

He held out a slender brown hand.

"Oh, I could make something very special out of this."

Edited 2017-05-04 05:25 (UTC)

Bull leaned into the embrace and slid his arm around Dorian to squeeze him close. "I try," he said, letting Dorian go only when the mage pulled away first. The excitement in Dorian's voice, the look on his face - all of that made this worth it. He had taken his time, looking over every piece to try to find something that seemed... well... Dorian.

He chuckled and took the ring so he could slide it onto a finger on Dorian's right hand. "I thought you could," he said fondly. "And it suits you." The colors, the uniqueness of the stone, all seemed to fit Dorian. And the dragon part, well... That just made it from Bull. "You'll have to tell me what you do to it, when you finally decide."

"How did you know I was going to enchant it?" Dorian asked, with good-natured suspicion. He was never that surprised anymore, really, when Bull could read him like a book. Bull still had the eyes of a Ben-Hassrath, and Dorian happened to be one of his favorite books. He supposed that had probably been true even years ago, when they were still accusing one another of being a spanner in the works.

"It's an ideal piece for it, actually. I prefer to work with cabochons."

Dorian held his hand out to the light, fingers extended, and admired the little bauble. It was exquisite. Worth a fortune to Dorian, even if it might not be to a jeweler.

"No point in turning it into a sending stone. Not when I carry a phone in my pocket. Hmm."

"Does it make a difference? The style of the stone?" he asked, wondering if there was some effect on the magic put into a stone depending on whether it was faceted or not.

Bull liked watching Dorian admire the piece, liked the way it looked on his hand.

"It does," Dorian said, delighted that Bull would ask. He was raised practically allergic to magic, but he did seem to like to know the theory behind it. It might be the spy in him, but Dorian assumed it was the sort of morbid fascination that he had with the Dalish elves, or spiders.

"The crystalline structure of the stone has a lot to do with how the entanglement of the quantum information is stored. It's not that different from the memory in your cellular device. Information; and energy. Except, in this instance, rather than coming from a battery, the energy comes from the Fade."

Dorian held it up to the light again, and waggled his fingers, enjoying the way the sun through the windows caught the stone and made it alive again.

His face turned silly, giddy for a moment, as he realized what he might like to do with it, though he didn't volunteer the information just yet. He wanted to surprise Bull.

Bull listened as Dorian described the differences between the stones, the way the magic worked in them. He had no idea how to imagine the practical application behind what Dorian said, but he could sort of grasp the theory of it.

More than anything, he smiled while Dorian admired the stone and the way the light caught it, making the fire-like shine inside of it come to life. Bull kissed the mage's neck, enjoying his scent and the warmth of his skin - the fire inside him.

"What's that smile for?" he asked when he noticed the giddy look on Dorian's face.

Dorian made a pliant noise and tilted his head to the side.

"Do that again."

It was half to distract Bull from the answer, but mostly because it had felt so nice. Dorian still planned to finish his dinner before it got wilty, but he supposed he could indulge himself for a few minutes. It had been such a very nice nuzzle against his neck.

"You aren't subtle," he teased, but he did as Dorian asked: he kissed his neck again, this time leaving a trail from just beneath his ear to his shoulder. He bit him once or twice - not too hard, just enough to leave faint red marks.

They could work on making more bruises later.

"You smell good," he murmured, as if he needed a reason to lavish Dorian with some attention.

"Luckily I've never made claims to subtlety."

Dorian leaned into Bull's ministrations with a low purr, followed by the softest, frustrated sigh. Once was enough, at least until it was time for bed properly. He'd just gotten out of the shower, and he was hungry. There were too many other things to attend to.

"I prefer melodrama. Did it work?"

He trailed his fingers down the length of Bull's arm, lingering on the crook of his thumb and forefinger. Dorian picked his fork and bowl back up, before stealing one of Bull's pieces of chicken,.

"No, but I'll stop asking." Bull smiled against Dorian's skin. He bit him again before he sat up, allowing Dorian more room to actually eat without trying to maneuver around Bull's head. They could continue this later. A movie and then that sounded like a fine way to spend the evening.

"I could ask where you want to live, instead, now that your list of demands has been worked out."