Flickering

Dragon Age Inquisition, Dorian Pavus/The Iron Bull, explicit, 2.5k words

Dorian finds it difficult to concentrate. He’s not drunk, but he is rather tired. The common room of the makeshift inn at Suledin Keep is full of Inquisition soldiers, everyone happy to have a change to drink and rest. He lets himself slump against the table. He had taken a bath earlier, and for the first time in weeks he feels warm and well-fed. The flickering light of the fireplace makes it hard for him to keep his eyes open.

 ”Hey, Vint, these yours?”

Dorian lifts his head. A wall of gray fills his vision. After a moment of confusion he sits up enough so he can look the Iron Bull in the eye.

”Pardon?”

 ”The fruit. Are they yours?” The qunari gestures at the bowl of fruit sitting next to Dorian’s elbow.

 ”Ah, no. I believe they are meant for the soldiers.” Dorian makes a vague hand gesture to indicate that the mercenary is free to take the bowl with him. Instead the Iron Bull takes a seat opposite Dorian and picks a plum from the bowl. Dorian watches as the man places the whole fruit in his mouth and chews with a thoughtful look on his face.

 ”Not bad. The fruit down here never tastes right. Dunno why that is,” Bull says, then parts his lips enough so he can pick the plum stone from the tip his tongue. Dorian’s eyes follow his fingers as he places the stone on the table, and picks another fruit from the bowl. It has an odd colour, a deep orange darkening into reddish black.

 ”Is this an apricot or a plum?” Bull asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer before biting into the fruit. Dorian watches as he gouges the stone free from the rest of the fruit with his tongue. It’s not a human tongue, Dorian thinks. It’s too dark in color, and too pointed at the tip. It curls around the flesh of the fruit in a way a human tongue could not.

 ”A dragon tongue,” Dorian mutters, and then shudders in alarm when he realizes he’s spoken out loud.

 ”Huh?”

 ”Ah. Dragon fruit. Have you ever tasted it? It was grown in the grounds of Vyrantium Circle.”

 ”Oh yeah. Looks prickly, but it’s soft and sweet inside. Real pretty too. You miss them?” Bull picks a third fruit from the bowl and hands it over to Dorian.

 Dorian does not want to sit here with the enormous qunari who is not at all what he should be. Why is the mercenary not spending the evening with his men? The heat and the noise of the inn feels suddenly oppressive. His tankard is nearly empty. He could get up and retire to the room he shares with Varric. He accepts the offered fruit instead, careful not to touch the qunari’s fingers. Dorian chews, and spits the stone out as neatly as he can manage. The fruit does indeed taste strange. It’s not sweet like it should be. He doesn’t know how or where people even get plums in the middle of winter. Dorian knows the mercenary is looking at him, assessing. He feels his face flush.

 ”I suppose it would be nice to have something that reminds one of one’s homeland, no matter how odd the connection,” he manages and wonders if the words even mean anything. Bull only nods like he’s making perfect sense, flashes a lopsided grin. Dorian wants to flee.

 ”I’m going to my room now,” Bull says, quiet and clear. “It’s the last one on the right.”

 With that, the Iron Bull stands up and walks away, leaving Dorian there with the plum stone in his hand.

*

It only takes Dorian a few deep breaths, some moments of staring into the flames of the fireplace and one more plum before he gives in. He feels disconnected, adrift somehow. He lets the feeling carry him up the stairs and down the corridor. There’s nothing else for him to do, really.

Bull’s room is warm and windowless. The only light comes from a flickering candle. The qunari stands by the bed and seems to take up all the space in the small room. Dorian closes the door behind him, and ignores the faint feeling of claustrophobia. Then there is a strong hand on his shoulder, on his hip. The tip of a strong tongue licking at his lips. Yes. A buzz of excitement makes him shiver. This is what he knows.

”Take your clothes off,” Bull says, softly.

When Dorian is naked, he turns to Bull. He expects to be pushed against the wall or maybe to his knees. Instead, Bull sits down onto the floor in front of Dorian. He looks slightly ridiculous, this mountain of a man sitting on his ass like a child. Bull guides Dorian to stand over him, and Dorian goes, feeling exposed and unbalanced. Bull’s hands are warm where they roam over Dorian’s thighs and ass. Bull leans forward and presses his face against Dorian’s still mostly soft cock. He just nuzzles against Dorian for a moment, his stubble coarse against Dorian’s skin. Dorian would comment, make some annoyed remark, but he finds that it’s enough to just breathe, to hold on to Bull’s horn, to place a hand on the back of his head. But really, what is the man… oh. There’s a warm, flat pressure on his balls. Dorian shudders as Bull’s tongue moves over his sack, then continues to lick at his cock. His body responds to the sensation and he feels himself slowly grow harder, resting on Bull’s tongue. Eventually Bull reaches the tip of his cock and wraps his lips around it. His mouth is warm. He doesn’t suck, only keeps moving his tongue and humming around Dorian. The sensation is wonderful. Dorian wishes he was less tired, so he could just fuck Bull’s mouth, come, and be done with it. Or that he was at least able to stop the undignified whimpers Bull’s tongue is coaxing out of him. As it is, he is stuck here, being gently caressed, with no hope of finding any kind of rhythm or release. He’s not even fully hard. His cheeks are burning with arousal and embarrassment. He should ask Bull to stop, maybe take care of the qunari with his hand, get back some control. That doesn’t happen. Instead Bull stands up, runs his enormous hand along Dorian’s body, along his face.

”You’re tired. You should lay down,” Bull says. His voice is steady and friendly, but Dorian notices the qunari is flushed as well, his fingers shaking slightly. Dorian lets himself be arranged on the bed, pillows behind his back and under his hips. Bull settles down between Dorian’s knees and spreads them wide to accommodate his horns. Dorian feels small and powerless, like he has been put on display for Bull’s convenience. He’s no longer hard. He takes a shuddering breath. This is not how he does things.

“I apologize. It seems I am indeed quite tired. Perhaps I could do something for you instead?”

“You could make yourself comfortable and let me take care of you.”

“You misunderstand. What you did felt very good, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to perform tonight. Rather embarrassing, really, but I suppose it happens sometimes.”

Bull pushes himself up enough so that he can look Dorian in the eye. The bed creaks under his weight.

“There’s no performing, here,” he says. His voice is soft but it rumbles through Dorian. “I love the way you taste. I love how your skin feels on my tongue. You’re so fucking lovely. I want to suckle on your balls for the rest of the night, and have you fall asleep with your pretty cock soft in my mouth. And when you wake up, I want to lift your ass up from the bed and fuck your hole with my tongue until you weep. How’s that sound?”

Dorian feels like he should counter with something clever and vicious. Something to make up for the insult of making him feel this way, like he wants to hide behind the pillows. Like he wants the Iron Bull’s hands back on his skin, grounding him so he can just let himself drift somewhere warm and gentle. Like he wants to stay. Bull’s looking at him, good-humored but hungry, like this is exactly how Bull had planned for this to go. He licks his scarred lips. Dorian swallows, and lets himself slump back against the pillows.

“If that is what you want.”

Bull hums and runs his hands along Dorian’s thighs. Then he makes good on his threat and takes Dorian’s balls into his mouth. Dorian whines and closes his eyes. Bull keeps licking and suckling at his skin, from his balls to his foreskin. The sounds he makes are strange, like the rumbling purr of a big cat. From time to time Dorian feels his cock harden, but it never lasts. He’s too tired and overwhelmed. And in any case, the soft irregular licks and the gentle massage of Bull’s tongue don’t allow him to work towards release. He keeps his eyes closed and lets the heat gather in his belly, lets Bull’s tongue send waves of sensation through his body. From time to time Dorian hears footsteps and voices from the corridor, but they seem far away. The door is locked, and Bull’s room is warm.

“So good, Dorian.”

Dorian drifts.

*

When he comes to, he’s curled up on the bed, under a blanket. Bull is sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s reading a book by candlelight. Dorian takes a deep breath, preparing for the moment when sleep finally leaves him and he has to deal with the reality of waking up in the Iron Bull’s bed. And of falling asleep with the Iron Bull’s tongue between his legs. The qunari closes his book and turns to look at Dorian. Dorian is brazed for some horrible joke, or some mean but well-deserved mocking. He’s not prepared for the unmasked predatory look on Bull’s face. Bull reaches out to cover Dorian’s cheek with his hand. His thumb presses against Dorian’s throat.

“I didn’t even notice when you fell asleep. That’s how much I liked having you in my mouth. A lot better than the plums. There’s something more I want. Will you let me have it?”

Dorian’s only partly aware of what he’s agreeing to, but he nods, not trusting his voice. Bull hands him a mug of water, and he drinks. Then Bull kisses him again. This time Bull’s tongue pushes into his mouth, and Dorian sucks on it instinctively. He grabs for Bull’s shoulders, impossibly solid and large under his hands. Bull’s tongue moves against his. The feeling is maddening, almost electric. Bull’s hands on his hips make him want more, and he kicks the blanket aside. His cock has certainly woken up. Before Dorian can decide what he would like to do with the information, he is been manhandled onto his stomach. Bull lifts his hips up and settles between his legs once more. Only now Dorian is mostly awake and intensely aware of the undignified position he’s in. Bull leans in to nuzzle at his ass. The man still has his trousers on, Dorian thinks, aghast.

“What… ah. What are you planning?”

“I told you. I want to eat your pretty ass until you scream. You were real quiet earlier. Maybe it takes me until morning before I get you loud the way I like it. I’ll make you wake up the whole keep.”

Dorian is intensely aware of Bull’s hands on his hips. His thumbs are digging into the meat of his ass, spreading him. He’s more awake now, but the feeling of being unmoored remains. Only Bull’s hands are keeping him anchored to the moment. He isn’t going to admit he’s out of his depth. He tries to think of some other activity he could suggest. Bull’s thumb moves closer to his hole. Dorian buries his burning face into the pillows. There’s nothing he would prefer.

“You good with that, Dorian?”

“Yes.” It comes out more breathless than he meant to, so he tries again. “Yes, Bull.”

“Good. You should see yourself, all spread out for me. Fuck, I want to taste you.”

Then Bull is on him, licking a long stripe from his balls to his tailbone. Dorian groans into the crook of his arm.

“Has anyone done this for you before?” Bull asks. Dorian can feel his breath on his back. His fingers dig into the meat of his ass, kneading.

“Only very briefly. I can’t assume this is a popular activity,” he mutters.

“Well that’s a shame. An ass like yours should be appreciated.”

Bull does certainly seem to appreciate it. He licks around Dorian’s hole for a long time, his wet mouth obscene and unstoppable. The burn of shame slowly turns into something else, as Bull keeps groaning his pleasure against Dorian’s skin. Eventually Bull has Dorian shaking and gasping, his cock hard and leaking under him. Dorian thinks this cannot possibly go on for much longer. Something surely must give. Then he feels the tip of Bull’s tongue push inside him, a relentless pressure that keeps making its way deeper, keeps spreading him wider. Dorian screams as he spills onto the sheets.

*

Dorian stares at the ceiling and tries to catch his breath. It’s not made any easier by Bull, who is licking his cock clean while running his hand over Dorian’s thigh. He is relieved when Bull is finally satisfied. Bull gets up, squeezing Dorian’s shoulder as he goes. He hears the sounds of Bull washing his face, but doesn’t pay much attention. He feels boneless. He wonders if he really did wake up the whole keep. If he should feel some way about that.

Bull returns to his side. Dorian decides the world needs some more normalcy, and turns to look at the qunari.

“The Iron Bull. Is this the moment where I make my awkward retreat, or would you like a blowjob before I go?”

Bull laughs.

“Nah. This is the moment where I’ll bask in the knowledge that you came from having my tongue up your ass. I’m going to be insufferable about it. You might as well stay here and sleep through it.”

Dorian sighs, and makes room so the Iron Bull can settle next to him on the bed, on the side of the wet spot.

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