For @plisuu, @rosella-writes and @dadrunkwriting
Cullen Rutherford x Dorian Pavus (SFW, during Wicked Eyes Wicked Hearts, a continuation of this. 1053 words)
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"Dorian," Cullen asks softly, subtly steering the pair of them away from the center of the Winter Palace's marble dance floor to a corner out of the way of the other dancers. Cullen looks worried, which only serves to make Dorian feel bad, and he hates feeling bad. The evening has been... well, wonderful so far. Finery, fine wine, eavesdropping and gossiping, intrigue, murder, it really has reminded him of home. And then there was this... And Maker, of all the things that might have happened this evening, Dorian hadn't dared hope that the evening might include being the envy of many men and women alike for securing a dance with the handsome Commander of the Inquisition.
"Dorian,' Cullen ventures again, voice low and laced with concern, drawing him back from his thoughts. "You were trembling."
"Was not," Dorian squawks indignantly, but even as he does, he knows it's true. It's only the fact that he's locked his knees that he's still standing now. Cullen's hand is still resting at his hip and Dorian could swear he feels the heat of his touch even with the leather and dress fabrics between them. It burns. In a good way. The way his heart has for some time longer than he's ready to admit. The eyes he feels on the pair of them burn too, but nothing like as pleasant. What must they all be thinking? What must he have been thinking to have allowed things to go this far?
"I'm sorry," Cullen apologizes, frowning. And that... that just won't do. Cullen had been smiling- for the first time all evening- happy, maybe even proud to be dancing with him. None of this is his fault, and Dorian would disabuse him of that notion immediately, but perhaps not where there are so many eyes and ears.
"Let's get some air," Dorian suggests, leading the way out of the loud and crowded ballroom into the gardens. He takes a few deep gulps of the cool night air beside the fountain before turning around to face the large, sad, amber eyes of friend, his... fuck, it shouldn't be this complicated. It never was before. Therein lies the problem.
"I'm sorry," Cullen apologizes again. "I shouldn't have pushed; you obviously didn't want-"
"No," Dorian interrupts, shaking his head, and Cullen, ever the good little soldier immediately bites his tongue. "I-" Dorian sighs heavily, running a frustrated hand through and mussing his perfectly coiffed hair, releasing the breath through his teeth with a soft hiss, before forcing himself to lift his eyes to meet Cullen's once more. "I did want to. I want- This," he gestures between the pair of them, then back up to the ballroom where muffled music gently drifts upon the evening air. And so much more, he thinks. Maker, greedy creature that he is, he wants it all. "But I... this isn't how it's done. Where I come from- anything between two men, it's- an aberration, shameful, something to keep hidden," Dorian continues softly, shaking his head. "It's about pleasure, nothing more. You learn not to hope for more. You'd be foolish to."
"Is that what you want?" Andraste preserve this man, Dorian thinks, his chest suddenly tight. Cullen isn't the sort to indulge in something casual, hardly knows the meaning of the word, of doing anything without being wholly invested in it. That he would even consider, even offer such a thing...
"Absolutely not," Dorian replies firmly, though his heart still hammers in his chest. "But I-" he hesitates, "Cullen, I don't know what I'm doing," he exhales with a self-depreciating huff of laughter. "I don't know what you want."
"You," Cullen replies simply, stepping forward to shrink the gap between them and clasping the mage's hand in his, perhaps emboldened by Dorian's assurance that he isn't interested in a mere daliance between them either. "I just want you."
"Kaffas," Dorian swears softly, ducking and shaking his head, allowing himself a moment to collect himself before meeting the intensity of Cullen's gaze again.
"Dorian," Cullen says, offering his hands a reassuring squeeze. "You- You make me feel safe," Cullen confesses, blushing a little at his own words, but needing to get them out, smiling softly as Dorian's eyes go wide, nodding. Yes, his eyes reply in answer to the questions swirling in Dorian's, you. "When I'm with you, I feel like nothing is impossible. Even things I stopped dreaming about a long time ago. Things I thought I didn't deserve anymore. You make me feel like I can be anything I want," Cullen continues, the scar above his lip twitching as a soft smile curls at the corners of his mouth. "I want to be yours, if you'd have me." Dorian's knees give out, like something out of the damn romance serial written by their dwarven mutual friend, but Cullen is there, strong arms wrapping around him, pulling him into his chest, keeping him steady as he catches his breath, his racing heart and thoughts.
"We don't have to dance- we don't have to prove anything to anyone," Cullen says softly when Dorian is still trying to find his tongue again, throat suddenly tight and his damned eyes watering despite his best efforts against it. "But, I would," Cullen continues, offering Dorian a gentle squeeze. "I would stand with you- against Corypheus, against all those damn nobles up there, against anyone who'd speak against you, against us. I would love and claim you, not just when we are alone, when it's secret, unchallenged, safe, but in the daylight too."
"You'll regret this," Dorian breathes before he can stop himself.
"I won't," Cullen replies confidently. "Give me the chance to prove it?" Fucking Ferelden men and their puppy dog eyes, Dorian thinks shaking his head as the first hot tear spills down his cheek. "Just because it's all you've known, doesn't mean it's all you deserve," Cullen whispers softly, and Dorian shudders against him. "You taught me that," he adds with a smile, leaning down to rest his forehead against his.
"I hate you," Dorian huffs as Cullen gently thumbs away another tear from his cheek.
"You don't," Cullen smiles softly.
"No," Dorian confirms, leaning into his palm with a soft sigh, wrapping his own arms around Cullen and sinking into him. "No, I don't."