shok_ebasit_hissra | item post [continued]

"Was not expecting that," Dorian said, stuttering when he caught sight of Bull in his uniform, or whatever it was. The red ropes made serpentine patterns across Bull's grey skin, drawing attention to the breadth of his chest, the strength in his shoulders.

He found himself so overwhelmed, for a momebnt, that he actually looked away, turning his head.

Dorian wanted to touch him awfully badly.

Bull chuckled, and he seemed rather pleased with himself for Dorian's momentary speechlessness. It felt strange to wear the rope again, but it also felt... good. Secure, held, restrained. In control. In some ways it was meant to represent what the Qun did for all of them, even if only certain members of the Ben Hassrath and the military wore them with any regularity.

"You alright there, big guy?" His voice was warm, maybe edged with a bit of teasing. Dorian wasn't even looking just then and Bull was pretty sure he could see a blush creeping into the mage's cheeks.

Dorian made a disgusted noise. He looked away, pointedly, before sneaking another peek of a glance.

The mage folded his arms over his chest with a puff.

"I'm perfectly fine, Bull, why shouldn't I be? It's just a uniform. An incredibly fiddly uniform that seems to be made fifty percent out of rope and fifty percent out of nothing at all. It's probably very climate-appropriate in Par Vollen."

Bull tried not to grin too much at Dorian's attempt at indifference. It wasn't working.

"Very climate-appropriate," he agreed. He moved closer and gently caught Dorian's chin to tip his head up, toward him. "And c'mon, this isn't half as fiddly as some of the stuff I've seen you put on, especially when we were back in Skyhold."

Bull's expression only made Dorian sigh again, and wave a hand in the air. He frowned a little stubbornly up from Bull's fingers.

"Ridiculous creature. You clearly can't even begin to compare the two. Fiddly, maybe, but mine at least didn't have the temerity to call themselves clothes without actually covering half of my--"

He averted his eyes from Bull's arms and shoulders.

"But it suits you. You may live in knowledge of at least that."

His fingers, rough and calloused, brushed along Dorian's jaw so he could lean close to kiss him. "I don't think the Qun cared whether or not it suited me," he said with a quiet laugh. "But I like that you think so."

Bull stood up, but he stayed close to the mage. He smelled good.

"Should I take it off?"

Normally Dorian was an open book to him, but Bull was having trouble reading him now. He couldn't tell how much of his reticence was over liking something he felt he should and how much might be actual discomfort.

"Mm," Dorian murmured before standing and peering up at Bull.

"No. I like it. But I'm not sure that I'm allowed to. Does that make sense? You look good. Very good. But that's not what that outfit is for, is it? Especially not to look good for some too-precious Tevinter brat. I wouldn't want to insult you, or disrespect you. But I can't guess what might. That's still part of your history, and your culture."

Whether or not Bull was, for all intents and purposes, Tal Vashoth.

Edited 2017-10-13 01:50 (UTC)

Bull's expression softened and he pulled Dorian closer to him. He guided the mage's hands, encouraged his fingers to slip beneath the ropes, to curl around them and hold on. He leaned down to kiss him again.

"You are allowed to like it," he said quietly, his voice warm and deep. "Maybe it's not meant to look good for other people, but I like that it looks good to you. Same way I'd probably stare for a long time if I saw you in all your altus glory."

His fingers brushed tenderly over Dorian's neck. "I know you, Dorian. And I know that somewhere under there might be a hundred questions about what its purpose is, if it symbolizes anything, if the color is important. And if you happen to be distracted by the fact that I look good in it, well... I can always answer all of those later."

Dorian held on. He pulled himself up against Bull, irritated that he couldn't reach his mouth, and settled on pressing his mouth against the center of his chest with a long, frustrated sigh. Why weren't they in bed already? Why didn't the universe simply align to Dorian's every whim?

"Yes, please. Later."

Edited 2017-10-13 02:27 (UTC)

Bull chuckled and he promptly picked Dorian up, holding him tightly as he headed back toward their bedroom.

"I can't remember the last time I actually made you almost speechless," he teased. As soon as they were through the last doorway, he leaned down to bite Dorian's neck. He gripped his thighs, squeezed.

Dorian's yelp transitioned into a long, low moan when Bull's hot mouth wrapped around the side of his neck. HE wrapped his arms around Bull's neck, his toes curling. He'd been a little bal of anticipation for at least the last fifteen minutes, and now, at least, things could really start gong somewhere.

"It's very hard to do, isn't it? I'm a veritable font of wit ad wisdom."

Dorian smoothed his hands up over the back of Bull's head, enjoying the rasp of shaved hair. He pressed his hips against Bull, trying t find friction. Dorian was wearing too damned many clothes.

Bull got them to the bed and climbed onto it, one arm keeping Dorian close for a moment before he pressed him down. "Almost impossible," he rumbled in answer.

"But I like thinking I can still shock you now and then." He kissed Dorian, downright gentle despite that his weight was bearing down on the mage, pinning him in place as he dragged their hips together.

Dorian threw his head back onto the pillow and laughed, as gentle as Bull's kiss. He struggled a leg up between Bull's legs, the snake his thigh against the leather armor, all heat and pressure.

"I feel like I'm at a disadvantage now. You might start with the shirt."

Bull groaned when Dorian's thigh pushed up between his own. He gave in for just a moment, allowing himself to rub up against the mage.

"Suppose I shouldn't rip anything, hm?" he teased as he pushed himself up. Bull worked Dorian's shirt off, letting his hands drag over every inch of warm skin as it was exposed.

Dorian sighed, simply letting himself enjoy the feel of Bull's huge hands and rough fingers brushing over the sensitive skin of his abdomen. He lifted his arms, letting the shirt move off.

As soon as it was over his head, he immediately set on Bull with his mouth and hands, teasing scars with his fingers, running them along the ridges of sensitive skin at the edges. Teasing one of his nipples with a hot tongue.

"I don't know. It wasn't a very good outfit. You might have got away with it this time."

"Dorian," he groaned, bracing himself against the bed while Dorian's mouth teased over his skin, while his hands found every sensitive spot they could reach.

"We'll have to work out a system... some way to identify clothes you don't care about losing. One way to get a new seasonal wardrobe." Bull laughed but the sound was strained. He pushed himself up more, braced his weight on his knees so he could work Dorian's pants off.

He needed him naked. Now.

Dorian, pleased his touch was working, swooped his thumb around Bull's belly button gently, the corner of his mouth quirking up. He helped where he could, squirming beneath Bull and giving a kick when the pants finally made their way off.

The smirk grew broader.

"Here's your first hint -- the underwear are just cotton."

Bull growled in answer, said something deep and guttural in Qunlat. He worked free some of the leather he was wearing, tossing it to the floor to join Dorian's clothes.

He was, maybe, a bit rough in getting the mage to the center of the bed, and with the satisfying sound of fabric ripping, Bull finished undressing Dorian.

Dorian felt his cock give a jump at the rough treatment, feeling the heat drift farther down his shoulders as he stared up at Bull with eyes wide in anticipation. He licked his lips, which already felt dry and swollen.

"Maker, I would let you eat me alive, looking like that," he breathed. He reached for Bull's horns, smoothing his palms over the rough texture, the lines of growth.

Bull leaned into Dorian's touch, loving the way it felt when the mage gripped his horns - especially when he was doing it because he needed something to hold on to.

Without much warning Bull moved and he got Dorian's legs hooked over each horn. It was easy then to lick a stripe up his cock, to take his time teasing and tasting him while Dorian was nearly bent in half.

Dorian shouted, loud. If he'd ever had any restraint, he'd lost it once they'd moved out of the apartment. He hadn't at all been prepared for what Bull did, and now that Bull had, he quickly found himself almost overstimulated.

But only almost.

"Oh, sweet Andraste, yes.Bull." He dug his fingers around his grip tighter, feeling helpless beneath Bull's hot tongue, feeling absolutely exposed in the position Bull had pressed him into.

His cock ached, but not as much as the spot inside him that felt empty and hot.

That was more like it. Bull held Dorian's hips, adjusted their position so he could sweep his tongue over Dorian's hole. Maybe he shouldn't tease him too much but it was worth it to hear Dorian make those noises, to feel the way the mage grabbed onto him.

He didn't keep Dorian waiting too long. Bull lifted his head just long enough to grab their lubricant before his mouth returned to teasing, tasting - to seeing if he could make Dorian climb the damn bed. It was nice not having to worry about traumatizing the neighbors.

Dorian writhed and groaned, feeling obscene, bent double with Bull's tongue in his ass. But Maker, it felt good, hot a wet and making that place at the bottom of his spine throb and ache to be filled with something bigger, until he was full.

"Bull, please. Are you going to keep teasing me until I make a mess all over myself, or are you actually going to do something with me?"

"Is that a challenge?" Bull asked as he lifted his head. He pushed a slick finger into Dorian, followed quickly by a second, because he doubted Dorian would tolerate a lot of delay at this rate. There was a line the mage crossed, always - the very end of his patience, was teasing became nearly offensive.

Bull thought it was cute. But he wouldn't push Dorian tonight. He moved his head to let Dorian's legs slide off his horns - first one, then the other - careful, always careful of the tips. They weren't sharp per se, but they could scrape, and they could gore.

"You'll be a mess no matter what," he rumbled.

Dorian let out a long, tumbling, deep moan, writhing against Bull's fingers as they slid in, stretching almost painfully. Dorian didn't mind. It was better than too much more of Bull's sweet damned torture. Which he was too bloody good at.

"True enough," he gasped. "And whose fault is that, Iron Bull?"

Dorian reached between his own legs, giving his cock a few pumps, gasping and so hot. He could feel the sweat gathering at the back of his hairline.

"Mine," he answered, his voice low and rumbling, like an earthquake. He leaned over Dorian to kiss him, very aware of what the mage's hand was doing between them. He added another finger, making sure that Dorian was ready before he pulled away.

"But I think part of you likes it. Just a little."

Bull slicked his cock. He let Dorian see him doing it. Then he leaned over the mage and nudged against him. "Do you want to stay like this?" he asked, a grin in his voice. "More for you to grab onto."

Between his horns and the ropes tied around his torso, Dorian had plenty to get hold of.

Dorian dropped his cock when Bull added another finger, before removing all three. He felt eager for more pressure, and nearly cursed, before the fingers were replaced by the gentle, promising, hot nudge of the head of Bull's cock at his ass.

He grabbed one of Bull's horns to pull himself up, mouth near his ear. He bit at the fat lobe before whispering to him.

"Or it could always be hard, against the wall."

Bull growled in answer to the teeth on his ear. He grabbed Dorian closer to him. It was easy to pick him up, to move off the bed with him, to pin him to an empty wall. It took nothing to hold Dorian's weight up, leaning his back into the wall as his cock brushed against the mage's ass.

He reached down to guide himself, wanting, needing to be in him.

"Dorian," he groaned when he finally sank in. He let gravity do the work from there, let Dorian ease down onto him.

Dorian wrapped his brown thighs around Bull's waist, squeezing tightly when Bull let him sink down fully onto his thick cock. It never stopped being almost, but not quite, too much, and Dorian let out a noise of deep, hungry satisfaction when it filled him, brushing against that sweetest spot inside him.

"Yes, yes, yes." he sighed, pounding his head gently back against the wall. He was so damn glad not to have neighbors anymore.

"Gods, Bull."

He wove his arms around Bull's back, raked his manicured nails sideways across his shoulders, before taking his horns in hand again.

Bull growled out something in Qunlat and adjusted their position carefully, leaning Dorian's back into the wall but leaving his hips more free. It let Bull thrust into him at a better angle.

He worked up a rhythm, quick and deep. Dorian had a grip on his horns and Bull would never quite get over how good that felt. Just knowing Dorian was grabbing onto him like that, clawing at him for how good he felt.

Dorian's toes curled as Bull picked up his pace, sliding in and out, brushing that spot time and time again. It wasn't quite the angle that would send him over the edge, not yet, but it was enough to send him into a blissful, panting mantra, full of sweet little noises and trembling thighs, trembling hands.

His lips tumbled out strings of creative curses in Tevene, one linked after the other like obscene poetry.

Edited 2017-10-27 06:02 (UTC)

Unbidden, Bull thought of several occasions in Skyhold - some of them in the damn library - where the nearest wall or table had sufficed. He grinned at the memories, pressed Dorian harder into the wall so that he wouldn't slide so much, so that his shoulders were pinned in place as Bull pushed into him. It adjusted their angle; he wanted to feel Dorian fall apart.

He nuzzled close, careful of his horns, and found his favorite place on Dorian's neck, the one that made him gasp, made him grab on to Bull whenever he bit it.

Dorian leaned his head back again, banging against the wall. This time it wasn't gently. He gave a loud, keening gasp, eyes closed tightly, as Bull's teeth scraped and pressed into the thick muscle on the side of his neck.

It was a free sound of immense pleasure, edged with pain, as the head of Bull's cock finally found perfectly the place inside Dorian that made his whole body feel hot and melted and the lights flash patterns in the back of his skull.

He came, hard and stuttering and noisy, between their bodies, making a mess of himself. As promised.

His thighs shook. He moaned, coming down slowly, in slow stepped moments.

"Oh, amatus."

Bull groaned, and he had to stop moving for a few seconds as Dorian came. He was tight, and good, but he couldn't move until Dorian relaxed again. So he held him, let the mage ride through it, making a delicious mess between them.

He was close though, and it only took a few more quick thrusts to follow him, to make a further mess of Dorian. He moved his hips lazily after that, until he finally stopped, leaning Dorian into the wall so he wouldn't fall.

He nuzzled Dorian's cheek and he slid an arm around him, giving him more support. Holding him rather than simply pinning him.

"Always worried you're gonna concuss yourself," he confessed, smiling as his other hand gently nudged between the back of Dorian's head and the wall.

Dorian leaned against Bull, drained but deliciously so. He felt the hot, obscene mess of Bull dripping down the back of one of his thighs, the indecent slide and catch of damp flesh on damp flesh as he leaned forward to press their chests together, so that he could rest his forehead on Bull's. He breathed slowly, heartbeat still racing.

His hips still worked in gentle circles against Bull's belly. It still felt lovely, even with his cock tired.

"Even if I do, it will be worth it," Dorian said. He clung to Bull, waiting for him to move.

The slow circle of Dorian's hips drew another quiet sound out of him and Bull nuzzled into his hair. He held Dorian close as he eased away from the wall and sat on the edge of the bed with the mage in his lap.

Red rope remained a stark contrast against his gray skin.

"Feel like you have enough manual dexterity back to help get these off?" he asked, grinning lazily at Dorian. He looked beautiful like this, loose and relaxed and thoroughly pleased.

"Please. Even as a corpse, I'll have more manual dexterity than anyone else you've ever met."

Dorian's eyes, still dark from pleasure, narrowed in amusement as he sat up a little straighter to help Bull remove the Qunari armor. It was artful; it was art. Dorian knew he had to respect it, and he did, but he still also loved the look of the red silk braids criss-crossing over Bull's huge biceps.

He started with the knots at the sides and began to reverently slide the ropes loose, pulling them apart where they crossed and sliding them out of their stays.

"I'm grateful, Bull. That you let me see this. I really am."

Bull chuckled and he stayed still as Dorian worked. Now and then he would give gentle instruction on the order of unknotting, but for the most part it seemed that Dorian had a handle on it.

He leaned forward and kissed Dorian's cheek, his neck, trying not to interrupt his line of sight too much while he worked. That was probably impossible, given how close they were.

"It seemed important," he confessed. "It is... part of me you might never have seen otherwise." Bull had no cause to wear it in Thedas, and if he had, they were all screwed.

Dorian's mouth quirked as he finished with the last of the lacing on Bull's armor. He didn't understand fully what the clothing meant to him, but he could respect what he could understand. Perhaps he even had an obligation to, outside of their personal relationship. He understood so little, truthfully, about the Qun, and yet he'd been raised to hate it.

"Can't say that I have anything I could add to my wardrobe that would be equivalent. Unless you count a proper set of robes with my family crest emblazoned hugely on the front. And a very stupid hat."

He slid reluctantly off of Bull's lap and went to rustle up a hot, damp towel.

"Can't be worse than the ones in Orlais," Bull insisted as Dorian went to clean himself up. He sank back onto their bed, stretching his back out. He knew he should make some attempt to clean up as well, but the bed was comfortable, and Dorian would eventually come back and make it more so.

"They're meant to symbolize our service to the Qun," he said, loud enough that Dorian would hear him. He knew Dorian was curious - knew that he would have read all about it if there were books to be had. But Bull wasn't sure that there were, anywhere. "We're all bound together beneath it, no single part more important than the others. Only together does it all make sense. It also symbolizes the control that the Qun gives us over ourselves."

On his way back, Dorian paused in the doorframe, staring at Bull curiously. He wasn't always certain of what to do with new information about the Qun, because Dorian wasn't always certain that he wanted the Qun to, well, so humanized. It was difficult. He'd been raised to have a sort of arrogant fear about it all.

That Qunari were waiting to kidnap him from bed as a child and eat him up.

As it turned out, that had happened after all. But not in the way Dorian had suspected it might as a child.

He crossed the room to the bed and began to clean off Bull's abdomen with slow strokes of the hot, damp towel he'd brought with him. He worked quickly, before the towel grew cold. And he smiled, gently.

Bull knew it threw most people to hear the Qun talked about that way. But it was the life he knew, and if someone was in the middle of Par Vollen, it wouldn't seem that different than any human settlement. People doing their jobs, living their lives.

He stayed still while Dorian cleaned him off, and as soon as the mage was done, Bull caught hold of him and rolled over, dragging Dorian back into bed. He kissed Dorian, downright sweet and gentle in the way he held him.

"I also wouldn't mind peeling you out of all those fancy robes," he said, trying to bring back more levity." He thought of the dream Dorian had given him, the one in the middle of Minrathous.

"I'm not sure that peeling is the appropriate verb for robes," Dorian laughed.

He settled in next to Bull, trying to shrug off the affection, but only very poorly trying. Eventually, he stopped pressing at the other man's immovable heft and chose instead to sigh and tangle their legs together.

"The house is quiet out here," he said, observing just that. The only noise were the garden grackles, in their usual spot in the tree beside the house. Their jabber was soft through the closed windows.

"I kind of like it," Bull admitted. He'd adapted to being in all kinds of places, but he kind of liked the quiet around heir new home. He nosed against Dorian's hair, breathed his scent deep.

"Makes sleeping in easier."

In he center of Darrow, once the city was awake and bustling, Bull tended to just be up, regardless of how late he might have worked the night before. If he was tired enough, he'd go back to sleep, but, especially on trash collecting day, he tended to just give up.

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