hi and welcome to DWC :). how about 'Sweltering' from the summer prompt list, for Iron Bull/Cullen or Bull/Cullen/Lavellan? thank you!
Thank you! I was super excited to do the second because I haven’t gotten to write my Lavellan yet so thank you again!
Words: 970
Pairing: Bull/Cullen/Lavellan
For @dadrunkwriting
Fuck. Ferelden. Summers.
Growing up in the wilds of the Free Marches, Icarus Lavellan was used to warmth, but this humidity was absolute misery. Stripped of his shirt and trousers, down to just his smallclothes, Icarus was still sweating buckets, unable to escape the sweltering heat. When he had chosen Elgar’nan’s vallaslin when he came of age, he had told the Keeper that it was because he wanted the sun to always shine on him. Now, he’d just kill for rain.
Sweat beat down his neck as he untied his pinned back hair, taking the small bit of leather to tie it up in a loose bun to keep his locks off of his neck. A fan sat on the chess board next to him, but he didn’t have the will to pick it up and fan himself off. Instead he just groaned, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the chair. To be honest, he was hiding. His nature was prone to shyness and for anyone to see him like this, he would be greatly embarrassed.
“Boss, you feelin’ okay?” Except for that voice.
Icarus groaned, looking up to see Bull and Cullen-- who was still in his full commander regalia because he was insane apparently-- appear, most likely to play a game of chess. Not most likely. Obviously. Since Icaurs was taking up a chair at the chess table, taking up a chair.
“Do you think if I cast Winter’s Grasp on myself I’ll get cooler?” he asked.
“You’ll get ice burn,” said Cullen, “I saw it happen to a mage at Kinloch once.”
Instead of replying, Icarus just sunk lower into the seat. Bull snort, finding the other’s discomfort funny apparently. Icarus thought of himself as rarely irritable, but he certainly preferred the colder months. This was a nightmare. Much to his chagrin, Bull scooped him up. The Qunari was sticky with sweat. Upon closer inspection, Cullen was also dripping from the heat.
His dear commander was always so firm on staying prim and proper. And Bull was always so warm, fenedhis. A lithe hand shoved at Bull’s chest trying to pull away, but he felt weak in the heat. Eventually, he simply gave up, slumping into overly warm arms. Sweat wafted into his nose, which curled up instinctively. Everyone reeked of sweat today, he was sure he was just as bad.
“It’s too hot to play out here,” announced Bull, “And, Commander, you’re gonna get heat stroke if you stay in that any longer. And as much as I love gettin’ you out of those clothes--”
Cullen’s face flushed a bright red, “Bull!” It had already been fairly pink from the heat, but now he was cherry colored from his forehead down to his neck.
Bull smiled, “Hey, now that’s thinking.” And it was probably just what Bull was thinking.
The three men headed across the fields of Skyhold, watching everyone deal with the heat in their own way. Many of the soldiers had stripped down to their smalls, armor sitting nearby in case of an emergency. Cassandra had seemingly disappeared from her usual post, but that was most likely in her own search for a place to stay cool. Dorian was sitting the the shade with a book, sitting in a loose fitting undershirt and light trousers. He gave them a wave as they passed before going back to his reading.
Once they were finally down beneath Skyhold, Bull wandered until he found a room where they stored food. While still on the warmer side, it was certainly degrees cooler than it was outside. Sitting down, Bull carefully laid Icarus down on the ground. Which, much to his delight, was blissfully cool. A low, please moan came from the back of his throat as he curled up happily.
A low, rumbled laugh escaped Bull, “Easy there, kadan, I’ve got a chess game to play. Can’t get distracted now.” Icarus groaned, covering his face shyly. He knew exactly what Bull was implying and it was still far too hot.
Cullen had pulled off his wrap and chestplate until he was down to a sleeved undershirt and trousers. Bull snorted as they began to set up the board, but Cullen didn’t heed him any mind. It hardly mattered that he had sweat through the layers-- he didn’t need to get anymore naked. They were playing chess. He was in no mood to repeat losing all his clothes again.
“Commander,” said Bull, “For every knight or rook I take, you’re taking off your clothes.”
Cullen scoffed, “I will not.”
Icarus laughed softly, “You should. It adds to the stakes, doesn’t it?”
“Inquisitor!” he scolded softly. Usually more shy, Cullen realized that the heat must have finally gotten to his head. Or, perhaps, and far more likely, Icarus didn’t want him to get over heated and suffer. Instead of replying, Icarus gave Cullen a very kind weak smile. Beneath its weight, Cullen buckled, “Alright.. But only if you do the same.”
“Ha! Now, we’re talking,” Bull all but cheered, “Hey, whoever gets a checkmate should be able to take off Boss’ underwear.”
A small hand smacked the side of Bull’s knee, soft and weary with exhaustion, “No.”
Bull broke down into laughter, pressing a kiss to the top of Icarus’ head. As if in protest, Icarus scooted his way to Cullen’s side of the board. A gentle hand came down to gently stroke at the side of his hand. Though it was a bit prideful, Cullen allowed himself a smirk of victory as he let his fingers soothe the Inquisitor. Bull, despite everything, smiled fondly at the two of them.
Cullen set his last pawn down gently, “Shall we begin?”
