The Iron Bull. (bullheaded) wrote in the100, @ 2016-02-17 17:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, dorian pavus, the iron bull |
WHO: Dorian & The Iron Bull
WHEN: Valentine’s Day!
WHERE: 506.I2
WHAT: Fluff that turns to angst very briefly and there are sad, pouty Bull faces until it (spoiler alert) turns out okay. Bull is just way too excited about Valentine’s Day, ok?
WARNING: Pure disney. Seriously.
Twenty minutes before Dorian was told to get his ass back to their apartment, Bull had fistbumped Chloe and sent her off on her own Valentine’s Adventure. Together, they had prepped the entire place, from floor to ceiling, there were knitted hearts, glitter, cutouts, everything that could be made in a world like this was done to the extreme - Bull thought it was perfect, even if it was messy in the way it was thrown together. Hell, even his pants matched. His pauldron was discarded in one of the closets, his pants now dyed a pretty hue of rose pink. It was way too much, and he knew it, but fuck if he was going to ever get this chance again, so Bull went all out. As was usual in his life. So he’d waited by the bedroom door, taking up the entire opening while holding a flower (it was fake, but all he could find in the warehouses so he wasn’t about to bitch) and a dumbass grin on his face. Behind him, their room was very dimly lit, with the few candles he was able to scrounge up were placed carefully near the newly painted walls. Paintings that had meaning, of course. Chloe had repaid him for the knitted hearts and help moving furniture around with offering up her talents on their walls. Directly above their makeshift (and now made, draped in some finer fabrics than the ones that previously adorned them) bed was a green symbol of the Tevinter Herald, as it slowly merged into a larger painting of the Imperial Highway. A road followed that, with two horns and a staff crossing each other, ending with the Inquisition symbol. He was gonna owe her for years for this shit. Dorian didn't consider himself sentimental. He despised such shows of affection, and romantic gestures tended to have him rolling his eyes. He wasn't good at being vulnerable, and he certainly wasn't good at being sincere — it was far simpler to be flippant and deflect people from his genuine feelings, even with someone that he genuinely cared for. His moments of true honesty were few and far between, and so when Krem had told him that all Bull wanted was something heartfelt rather than a material gift, Dorian balked. What in the Void was he supposed to give to him? Bull already opened up the most vulnerable parts of him, had seen him at his most exposed and raw, had cared for him and picked him back up after particularly aggressive sex when Dorian felt lost in his submissive space. Even if he did want something material, there were no shops. He couldn't exactly purchase anything, and nothing the forge could create would rival the weapons that Bull used now. He returned to their rooms after an exhaustive search, frustrated and irritable — and oh, no. Maker. What had he done? Dorian slowly stepped into the apartment, fingertips over his mouth in an expression of disbelief. "Vishante kaffas," he muttered, wide-eyed, when he finally settled his gaze on Bull. Bull had expected surprise, really, so Dorian's response made him chuckle. From the moment his lover had entered the room, Bull had watched him carefully, expression full of love and admiration. No one moved like Dorian did, and no one captivated his attention nearly as easily. Dorian undoubtedly commanded every room he entered, and even now surrounded by all this romance Bull did the want to take his eyes off of his lover. So maybe he had gotten too comfortable. Soft. Lovesick. He didn't fucking care at this point. He'd never hoped for love, too many years under the Qun and too many years playing a role. After two years, he finally had Dorian in one place and he was damn well going to make the most of it. His grin said as much as he stared at his lover. “Pretty damn great, right?” "I…" Dorian was actually struck speechless by the garish display, the living room entirely taken over by tasteless decorations. He knew that his festival meant something to Bull, knew that Bull liked the sentiment of it, but Maker's breath. Dorian could hardly focus on the sentiment of it when everything was so pink. He'd never had much of a stomach for this sort of thing, and he felt himself tighten. When he smiled, it was more like baring teeth. "Oh, good. Hooray." His eyes flickered to Bull and gave him a brief once-over. "What are you wearing?" Bull knew there would be an adjustment period, there always was with Dorian. He was patient - most of the time - and could handle it. Bull had learned early on that acting quick and letting Dorian catch up was generally the only way to get anything done, especially if his lover was feeling particularly stubborn. Bull liked charging (ha) in with every bit of passion he had, damn the consequences. Still basking in the glow of romance, Bull turned fully toward Dorian and held out his arms, grinning down at himself. “Like it? Veronica helped.” He wasn’t completely oblivious to Dorian’s sour mood, or his tense stance, and finally reached over to gently clasp a hand onto Dorian’s shoulder. “Maybe you’d like something a little quieter?” He gestured to the open door of their room, hoping the paintings would make everything better. Dorian leaned back slightly, doing his best to keep smiling even if it was more like a grimace. "Oh, no. What did you do to the room?" He didn't want to know. He didn't want to see this explosion of glitter and pink. Everything about this was so sickeningly sweet, like some Orlesian pastry that melted on the tongue and left a stickiness for hours afterward. It was just so much. He leaned around Bull in order to peek into the room. He didn't really look it over, he didn't really look at the painting, but he groaned a little and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Really? Why not lead a parade through the mess hall? Why not extend all this into the hallways?" Shit. Had he gone too far? Bull kept his eye trained on Dorian, eyebrow starting to crease in slightly at the same time as his smile started faltering. He’d at least expected Dorian to look in the room and.. Fuck. Swoon or some shit. But instead he was getting the opposite reaction, and it was making him falter just a little in his momentous charge. “That’d be a bit much, wouldn’t it? Parade.” He was joking, but the sarcastic comment came out a little more biting than Bull’s usual. Borderline grumbling. But Maker damn it, this was a happy holiday, so if he had to distract Dorian while he cleaned up the bedroom just so they could have a good night, he’d do that. So even through the disappointment of Dorian not liking what he saw, he knew if Chloe came in and saw a less-than-happy face, there’d be even more drama than Bull could imagine. He tried to keep the sadness out of his voice while he quietly stepped up behind Dorian, voice soft and gentle. “You know, the bedroom isn’t much to look at, how about we go down to the mess for a little while? Get out of here.” Dorian had heard the irritation in Bull's voice. He was stung by Dorian's reaction, and Dorian immediately felt terrible. Bull had been so looking forward to this holiday, and Dorian had deliberately decided to be open and fun about it because it meant something to his lover, even if he felt all of this was nonsense. It wasn't that he was against a holiday dedicated to love, and he certainly wanted to celebrate what he had, but little pink hearts and frills had never suited him. He knew he was biting and acerbic, he knew that sometimes it could look like he didn't care because he could belittle such open displays of affection. It didn't help that he'd been struggling with something to offer Bull, and felt like he'd come up more or less empty-handed. "I…" He was about to admit to this, about to admit that he was surly specifically because he felt so outdone, when he really stopped to look at what had been done to the wall. "Amatus, what is this…?" Before Bull could answer, he was pulling away from him so he could make his way across the room and really examine the painting. Then he fell quite silent, indeed. Damned slippery boyfriends. Bull was about to grab onto Dorian’s arm gently to pull him away from the room and the next thing he knew, he was standing in front of the paintings. Given Dorian’s responses thus far into the evening, Bull was apprehensive about being fully honest with how the painting came to be. The last thing he wanted was for Dorian to yell at Chloe when he was already in a bad mood due to Bull overextending himself. So he followed slowly, turning slightly so he could even enter the room and loitering in the opposite corner while he attempted to subtly put out the candles he was near. Unfortunately, even with all of his Ben-Hassrath training, Bull really wasn’t all that subtle, and ended up quietly cursing at one that he nearly knocked over. Finally righting it before he set the entire bed on fire, he turned back to Dorian. “Just something I put together earlier, I’m sure it’ll wash off so your senses aren’t damaged even when you’re sleeping.” He didn’t manage to keep the grumpy tone out of his voice this go, and the horned Qunari was practically pouting behind Dorian by the end of it. "Oh, stop," Dorian said dismissively, holding up a hand to shush him. This was different from all of the silly hearts tastelessly strewn about. This meant something, and Dorian was taking in all of the little details with quiet fascination. He didn't want to turn around and show that his eyes were a bit misty, but his breath hitched and he lifted his fingers to his lips. "You did this…?" It was beautiful. Dorian could complain about the other things all he liked, but he was marveling at this. Bull went silent as demanded, and moved up behind Dorian silently. He towered over the Vint by a good foot or two, but that was usual. So he leaned forward and rested both hands on Dorian’s shoulders, looking at the painting in the same light, over the top of Dorian’s head. “Actually, Chloe did it. I described all of it.” Now that he had his hands holding Dorian in place and a little more confidence that Dorian wasn’t going to run off yelling, he had no problem giving credit where it was due. “She did a damn good job, didn’t she? Gonna owe her for a while.” Though his tone was still a bit down, more out of apprehension than full concern, Bull had perked up at least a little from the last comment. Maybe all this shit wasn’t for nothing after all. "It's …" Dorian shook his head. He was speechless again, but this time for good reasons. This was their story, painted on the wall and displayed. "I'm terribly sorry for being churlish with you." It was a little bit clipped, but he reached up to grasp Bull's hand, squeezing tightly. The translation was I love you. I'm proud of you. Thank you, for doing this for me, but he didn't know if he could get all of that out without getting embarrassing. He took Bull's hands and guided his lover's massive arms around him, content to simply be held while he gazed at the painting and took everything in. "Your culottes aren't terrible, either." “Should be,” Bull grumbled back, but softened it with a sweet kiss to the side of Dorian’s head. His arms wrapped easily with just a little direction, and he rubbed a warm hand against Dorian’s chest in contentment. It was impossible for Bull to stay mad at Dorian for damn near anything he said or did, and yeah, he knew his tastes were a lot more… bold, than most. But contented staring was damn well the best kind of response he could’ve gotten to the painting - well, second best, after earth-shattering sex. His chest rumbled against Dorian’s back with a silent laugh as he leaned down again. it was impossible for him to really whisper in Dorian’s ear at this angle without it being odd, so he just kept his voice quiet. “Aren’t terrible, huh? Not terrible enough to do it against the Imperial Highway? We can shock your ancestors all the way from here.” Dorian rested back against Bull, sighing heavily. There was something so solid about being with a man like this, someone taller and larger. It made him feel safe instead of intimidated. "Only if you take those off," he said loftily. He stretched his arms up, reaching up high enough to brush his fingertips against Bull's jaw. "It…" Hm. Before Bull could get overly handsy with him, or pin him up against the painted wall, he turned to face his lover and rest his hands against his chest. "I simply don't know what to do for you," he admitted. "I've wanted to give you something, some sort of grand gesture, and I find that I've talked myself out of everything." “Nah, I’m gonna keep ‘em on when I fuck you.” Bull answered simply, grinning from ear to ear at the image that provoked. But… shit. That thought was delayed as he finally caught up to exactly where Dorian was with this entire situation. Feeling outdone. Something he hadn’t even thought of, because Bull didn’t want for much. There was rarely any lingering desire for things he didn’t have, unless it was a damned nice axe or some pretty stone, and even then the feeling was typically fleeting. “Hey,” Bull reached up and tilted Dorian’s head up with a gentle nudge of his finger. “You know I’ve got everything I need, yeah? You already gave me the best damn gift grand gesture I could’ve asked for.” "That's what Krem told me," said Dorian, but he didn't seem satisfied with it. He didn't exactly have the means to commission a weapon better than the one that Bull already had, he couldn't find any particularly spectacular items that Bull would find simply pretty. Nothing seemed to suit the situation, especially considering the limited resources they had here. Dorian absolutely felt outdone, and he never did like that feeling. He had not, however, told Bull that he'd made up with Krem after their argument. He'd asked Bull to read over the letter that he'd drafted for Fenris, but he hadn't said a word regarding Krem, except to haughtily tilt up his chin and say he'd think about apologizing to him. Dorian scrunched his nose. "Krem also told me to tie a bow on my ass and bend over, but that's hardly innovative." Bull could’ve easily just made the assumption that they talked recently, but that assumption was half as likely to get him a negative response. So instead, his lecherous grin took over and he reached down to gently smack Dorian on the ass, light enough that it wouldn’t cause any pain. “Sounds like a damn good plan to me. Krem’s good to me.” His laugh wasn’t forced, but it was contained, not full-bodied or let loose like it was most times when they were alone. Mostly because Bull was now a little shy of getting ahead of himself and ruining what was already turning good. Keep things casual, don’t get stupid intense and shy Dorian off. But he was still damned curious, and couldn’t help it when he finally gave in and asked, “You get that info from him before last week?” Dorian opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "Mm." He glanced away. "I may have spoken with him. And … apologized. He insists we're still friends and doesn't know what all the fuss is about, so apparently it wasn't the major crisis that I thought it to be." He took this opportunity to examine his fingernails, shrugging. "We're fine, for your information, if you're curious. Krem and I are well on our way to becoming the very best of friends." His smile was a lot less contained with that revelation. He knew Dorian only held onto his pride for so long before giving in, and that it really was only a matter of time before things slowly started getting mended. These were the two people he cared about most in the world, and it was already killing him that there was even the slightest potential of animosity, even if he knew Krem wasn’t going to hold onto that. Krem never did. Sometimes, though, he didn’t know how Dorian was going to go about things, and it was bound to make things more and more awkward. Fenris, he could ignore. He liked the dude, but it wasn’t something that was going to make things painful for his relationship, which already had enough hurdles. “Goddamn. If this isn’t the best damn day in the whole year… Screw it. These festivals are way better than ours.” Dorian could look nonchalant all he wanted, but Bull was getting emotional just thinking about all this shit. Flipping Dorian around easily, his large hands slid under Dorian’s thighs and lifted him up so he was face-level with Bull. Leaning in, he pressed an easy kiss along his lover’s jaw. Dorian wrapped his legs around his lover's waist. He purred at the kiss, tipping his head to expose more of his throat. He supposed that perhaps his gift to Bull was learning how to swallow his pride, learning to apologize, instead of simply putting up walls and assuming that someone would hate him forever. It would have been easy to simply decide that his relationship with Krem was forever damaged and if Krem was going to hate him, fine, but instead he'd gone out of his way to let his guard down and actually discuss it. Krem had said that Bull didn't want material things. Did this count? It seemed like it did. He sighed, pressing his palms against Bull's horns and slowly curling his fingers around them. "If you want to keep the pants on, I'll let you." |