Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It's not hard to tell when there's something on Mahanon's mind. 

In fact, it's so damn obvious that if Mahanon were any other person and Bull took the moanings of men at bars about their lovers being "passive aggressive" seriously, Bull would think the elf does it on purpose. When there's something really niggling at him, Mahanon will drift off more often, a little pensive frown on his face, sharp teeth worrying at his lower lip. He'll fiddle with things; a stray thread, his hair, his clothes, Bull's clothes. Once he got himself so worked up about the Charger's accounts during a long ride through the Frostback foothills that when they all dismounted they found Mahanon had, entirely without thinking, riddled his poor and patient horse's mane with little nervous braids. 

But Mahanon doesn't do these things on purpose. He doesn't telegraph his thoughts with the hope that someone will ask him what's on his mind. He always seems entirely nonplussed (and impressed) when Bull uses his Ben Hassrath powers of observation to deduce that an elf tying endless knots in fishing line for no reason is likely not an elf entirely at ease. 

And so it is tonight, back in one of their favourite haunts in Lydes. Everyone is drinking and playing cards and Mahanon is... fiddling. With a stack of dice, specifically. Rolling them, stacking them into little towers, knocking them over, balancing them-

Bull allows this for a good half hour before he gently - but very firmly - takes Mahanon's hands in his own and tugs them away from the dice.

"Thank fuck," Rocky mutters uncharitably. Of everyone, the dwarf has the least amount of patience for Mahanon's nervous habits. 

"Oh," Mahanon says, looking from the dice to his hands and back. "Sorry, I wasn't being annoying, was I?" 

"Seventeen coppers," Bull murmurs, and Mahanon's ears twitch. All he wants to do right now is pull his anxious little elf into his lap and wrap his arms tight around him, but... fuck, it's still not safe for that. Not in public. One day, maybe, but not yet. He can't help but risk a gentle kiss to Mahanon's curls, however. "Something on your mind, kadan?"

Mahanon squeezes Bull's hands, eyes crinkling happily at the name - still so fucking responsive to easy affection. But the elf hesitates nonetheless and responds, entirely unconvincingly, "Er. Not really, I suppose." 

Well. 

Bull watches Mahanon closely, trying to decide where this fine line is set; whether Mahanon is uncomfortable with sharing what's on his mind, or is uncomfortable with where he's sharing it. Whether Bull should leave it lie, or if it's worth a little more prodding. 

There's colour in Mahanon's cheeks, but no worried crease in his brow, no anxious tug at the corners of his full mouth. He doesn't pull away from Bull but instead leans in, their joined hands slipping under the table, knees touching. Bull suspects Mahanon wants to climb into Bull's lap about as badly as Bull wants him to, no matter whoever might be watching. 

But it's the ears that really give Bull the best indication of Mahanon's mood. They flick, maybe a bit embarrassed or rattled to have been caught in his thoughts, but they do not press back into that low, uncertain state when Mahanon is truly anxious. 

So. Maybe the elf can stand a little prodding, then. 

Bull bides his time, patient and meticulous. He doesn't ask when they get to their room and Mahanon immediately casts a silencing spell before grabbing Bull by his chest harness and balancing up on his toes for a kiss. He doesn't ask when he has Mahanon pinned by his slim wrists to the wall, whispering all kinds of dirty promises into those long ears until Mahanon is gasping and begging his name like a prayer and a curse all at once. 

No, Bull waits until they've left a trail of discarded clothing all the way to the ragged bed, waits until they're lying tangled up together in that sweet lull following a good fuck, sated but not entirely spent, resting with the unspoken desire for more once they've got their wind back. Bull loves this part, the slick warmth of their sweaty bodies pressed close together, Mahanon lying along Bull's front with his arms folded across Bull's broad chest, tracing absent patterns over Bull's skin with a fingertip and pressing an occasional kiss to his lips, his throat, his collarbone. They're both deliciously disgusting right now, and when Bull buries his nose in Mahanon's damp curls he can smell himself on his kadan and fuck, it's good. So fucking good.

Mahanon's even purring a little, in that self-conscious quiet way he does when he's still too awake and aware not to care. It's a fucking victory, in Bull's mind - it took months before Mahanon was comfortable slipping back into old Sliabh habits around Bull, still caught up in Lavellan customs. Bull's starting to parse out the many different types of purrs an elf can produce - a content sleepy purr, long and loud and relaxed; an anxious self-soothing purr, quiet and quick and breathy; a purr meant to calm or comfort someone else, a forceful determined hum. 

This purr, well, Bull likes to think it's just for him - this gentle little rumble, something Bull feels more than he hears. 

Bull strokes Mahanon's hair, smiling. "Is my kadan having a good night?"

"Mm," Mahanon murmurs, cuddling closer. "Beds... beds are nice."

"Like you would know," Bull teases, sitting up. Mahanon grumbles about having to move until Bull scoops him up into his arms, letting the elf curl up in his lap like a contented cat. "You always wind up sleeping on top of me anyway."

"I've told you," Mahanon says, tucking his curly head under Bull's chin. "You're very warm. You wouldn't want me to get cold now, would you?" 

"Nice to know I could be replaced with a hot water bottle at a moment's notice," Bull says, and Mahanon laughs, tilting his head to brush his lips against Bull's chin. 

"I don't know," Mahanon murmurs. "I can think of a few other tasks for you in bed that a hot water bottle might not be able to do."

"Sassy elf," Bull says, capturing Mahanon's lips for a long kiss. 

Mahanon's breath hitches, needy and wanting as Bull deepens the kiss. Bull bends over the elf so Mahanon's weight is almost entirely resting on Bull's arms, trusting him not to let him fall. It's an easy way to shift the balance of power, and it's worth it for how sweetly Mahanon surrenders to it, relaxing back into Bull's embrace and arching into Bull's touch. 

"You comfy, kadan?" Bull murmurs against Mahanon's lips. 

"Mm."

"In a good place? Feeling safe and cozy?"

Mahanon cracks open a suspicious eye at Bull, watching him narrowly. "...Mm?" 

"Just curious," Bull says, nuzzling under Mahanon's pointed chin to mouth at his throat, grinning as Mahanon squirms in lap. So easy to tease, so damn sensitive. "Thought maybe we could talk about whatever's been wrapping your head up in knots recently."

Mahanon groans, falling dramatically limp in Bull's arms. Bull takes advantage of this to nip at Mahanon's jaw, the elf shuddering against him. "You - fuck, you never play fair." 

"I play to win, kadan," Bull says, taking a handful of Mahanon's curls and keeping his head pulled back with a sharp tug. Mahanon gasps, arched back over Bull's arm and trapped in place, leaving the long line of his throat vulnerable to Bull's teasing bites and kisses. "If you really don't wanna tell me, you know your way out. Otherwise, I'm gonna keep teasing you until you start talking." 

"Absolutely - shit, fuck, not fucking fair," Mahanon complains, squirming and twisting in Bull's grip - but really, not fighting very hard to escape, even as Bull nibbles along his thudding pulse point, licking just under his ear, catching smooth skin between his teeth and pinching until Mahanon squeaks and shivers, gripping Bull's arms tightly in his trembling hands. "You - you couldn't just leave this lie?"

"Maybe I'm curious," Bull murmurs into Mahanon's pointed ear, grinning at the strangled gasp this elicits. Elves. "Maybe I wanna know what my beautiful kadan is thinking about."

Mahanon makes a very small noise at the compliment, covering his face with a hand. "D-damn it, fine. Fine! Alright, just - Creators, you're a menace." 

Bull immediately releases Mahanon's hair and settles back again, wrapping his arms tight around Mahanon and kissing his hair, his brow, smoothing his hands over the spots he teased to soothe the skin. "Such a good boy. No, don't hide your pretty face, kadan, let me see you." 

Mahanon drops his hands with obvious effort, looking embarrassed, and shy, but clearly pleased with the praise. "It's - it's just something I've been... I just didn't know how to go about bringing it up, but it's a - fuck. Bedroom matter." 

Bull raises an eyebrow. Mahanon's shy about plenty of things, but rarely these days is he shy about anything to do with, as the elf put it, "bedroom matters." They've had extensive talks about different methods and instruments and areas of exploration with few blushes from Mahanon's end, more bright-eyed bordering on ferocious curiosity. 

But Mahanon truly does look awkward and uncertain, and that just won't do for this kind of conversation. So Bull takes Mahanon's wrists in his hands to keep the elf from hiding again and kisses him deeply, touching his forehead to Mahanon's.

"I love you," Bull says, and Mahanon breathes in sharply, pressing closer. "You never have to be embarrassed about asking for anything, or suggesting anything. Not with me. Promise. You're my kadan. I wanna make sure I'm taking care of you."

"Vhenan," Mahanon murmurs, melting into Bull. 

Their lips meet, and it's far too tempting to sink into this easy kiss, let it deepen into something more necessary, more urgent, but Bull pulls away after a breath and takes Mahanon's face in his hands, watching him expectantly. 

Mahanon puts his hands over Bull's with a reluctant little huff and says, almost whispering, "Alright, well, I thought... if you wanted, that is, but I thought you could - I want you to bite me." 

Bull blinks. "Bite you - more? Like, more often-?"

"No, no vhenan, I mean-" Mahanon shifts in Bull's lap, straddling his hips and putting a hand on Bull's face, the other on his shoulder, looking up at Bull with those large, earnest eyes. "I want you to bite me, Bull. As hard as you want. Deep enough to draw blood, deep enough to - mark me, really mark me. As yours."

Bull's a bit of a slow riser when it comes to getting hard. Usually. He's got a sizeable cock, he likes to take his time, it's a good way to pace out an evening - gives him a leisurely amount of time to tease climax after climax out of Mahanon, and makes it easier to edge Mahanon too without going crazy with need himself. 

So Bull and Mahanon both glance down in surprised bemusement as Bull's cock jumps at Mahanon's words, the implications and visuals slamming home with the word "yours" and bringing Bull from half-mast to almost painfully hard in an unexpected instance. 

"Oh," Mahanon says, as Bull groans. "Well, that's encouraging."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Bull says, his voice strained, and he's really not sure if he's trying to say this to Mahanon or himself. It doesn't help that they both smell like sex, and with Mahanon straddling him and asking him so fucking sweetly-  "Shit, hold on, I'm sorry kadan, could you - we should cool off before talking about this, fuck."

Mahanon nods and disentangles himself from Bull. It's not the first time they've had to pull back before getting carried away, and Mahanon's quite familiar with the procedure. He retreats to the end of the bed, biting his lip. "Should I, er, clean up?"

Bull tries not to sigh as he rolls himself off the mattress and gets to his feet. It's tempting to trust in a little space and time, but as long as that scent is still lingering in the air and Mahanon is still naked, flushed and messy - no, Bull can't think of much else aside from jumping right back into bed and devouring the elf, giving him everything he's asking for without talking it through first. "Yeah." 

Mahanon waves a hand, and the effect is immediate - that delicious sweat-soaked scent almost entirely disappears, leaving them both clean and dry. It's harder to get the smell out of the sheets without a thorough wash, but it's enough that Bull can breathe without every lungful going straight to his cock. 

Bull pulls on a pair of loose trousers as Mahanon slips into a simple wrap tunic, his preferred bedclothes. It doesn't hide much, in all honesty, but it's enough that by the time Bull sits back down again his fervour has cooled to a point where he can think straight. 

"I'm s-" Mahanon starts, covering with an unconvincing little cough when Bull turns to raise an eyebrow at him. "I just mean - I should have chosen a better time-"

"I asked," Bull says, keeping his hands firmly at his side, no matter how badly he wants to reach across and reassure his kadan with a touch. "In fact, I asked pretty fuckin' adamantly. We've negotiated shit in that state before, you couldn't have known I'd react like that." 

"Well..." Mahanon says, trailing off and looking very guilty indeed. 

Bull leans back against the headboard, folding his arms. "'Well?'"

Mahanon makes a sort of garbled noise, but manages to come out with, "You know how I read stuff?"

Bull stares at Mahanon. "Uh huh."

"But you can't believe everything you read-"

"Uh huh."

"-especially in, er, certain types of literature-"

"Uh huh."

"-especially given how humans - they get a bit imaginative, and-"

"Kadan." 

"-look, all I'm saying is that the, er, 'lusty qunari lover conquers their partner and marks them in a fit of passion' is a popular trope in a lot of disreputable, terrible stories that I happen to be quite fond of," Mahanon says, and he's fiddling again - folding and unfolding the corner of one of the bedsheets, absent-minded and fidgety. "And it's usually described as sort of a driving internal instinct, and I didn't think that, I promise, I know that marking and getting a bit more intense with the teeth is not a qunari-specific fetish or something. All I'm saying is that I - should have thought this through better, and I am sorry."

Because Bull is a good man, but not a particularly nice one, he lets Mahanon sit there and squirm for a long five seconds before saying, "Eighteen coppers." 

"Ugh," Mahanon groans, flopping face-first into the sheets. "Menace." 

"I'm curious now, though, what do humans say about us in these terrible books you read?"

"Oh, you know," Mahanon says, rolling onto his side and propping his face up on his hand. "Qunari may seem cold and stoic, but only because they only go into heat at certain times of the year, at which point their lust becomes insatiable, et cetera et cetera."

"Once a year? Fuck, I'm sure the tamassrans would love that. Make it all nice and easy to schedule."

"Don't worry, elves are often painted with a similar brush in that respect," Mahanon says, eyes glinting in the low light as he grins at Bull. "There's also a popular theory that the base of a Qunari's cock engorges upon penetration, keeping one bound up inside their lover for - well, sometimes hours on end, depending." 

Bull barks a laugh, and Mahanon joins in with his quiet giggles. "Fuck, who would believe that shit?"

"Who indeed," Mahanon snickers, but his eyes slide away from Bull.

Bull sits up. "Kadan."

"Vhenan."

"Tell me you didn't think - that first night we fucked, tell me you didn't think I'd be stuck inside you for hours."

"I didn't!" Mahanon exclaims, but relents under Bull's piercing eye. "Not- not entirely, at least - stop laughing!"

"That's the funniest fucking thing I've ever heard," Bull says, wheezing between gales of laughter. "Is that why you looked so surprised when-" 

Mahanon's aim is true, and Bull is abruptly cut off with a pillow to the face. 

It's tempting, far too tempting, to tackle Mahanon into the sheets and wrestle him down, maybe tickle him until he's flushed and breathless with laughter and begging for mercy, but that... that would lead to other things, and there's still shit to talk out between them. 

So instead Bull lobs the pillow back at Mahanon with a chuckle, and forces himself to relax back, no matter how bright-eyed and mischievous and tempting Mahanon looks. 

Because fuck, Bull really does want to sink his teeth into Mahanon. He likes to see the marks he leaves on the elf as much as he enjoys making them, and the idea of really claiming Mahanon as his, doing something deliciously forbidden in the process... 

"Your books aren't entirely incorrect," Bull says, grinning as Mahanon's ears perk up at this. "Not about swelling dicks or anything, but some qunari really do get into the whole biting thing. It's a kind of inside joke for members of the Qun who speak to outsiders - anytime any bas start getting ideas, we freak 'em out by telling them they'll have to wear armour to survive the ordeal, or that we have cannibalistic tendencies."

"I imagine that backfires from time to time," Mahanon says, raising a brow. 

"Not everyone's as open-minded as you, kadan," Bull says. "You're a visionary. A philosopher. A paragon of your kind." 

"Elves?"

"Bottoms."

Bull catches the pillow this time before it hits him in the face, and tucks it behind his head. "I'm confiscating this."

"Bully."

"Brat."

Mahanon grins, showing sharp teeth. "So, tell me more about this whole 'qunari biting thing.'"

"Well, that's just it," Bull says, stretching, speaking in the most casual tone he can muster. "It's a qunari thing, sort of, but not really a Qunari thing."

Mahanon frowns. "Capital 'Q' on the second?"

"That's right. See, that kind of shit is a sexual bonding activity, yeah? But Qunari don't bond sexually. Tamassrans are happy to take care of whatever needs come up when you go to them within reason, but they're not about to let you do anything permanent. If you need to bite something, they'll give you a bite stick."

"Makes sense," Mahanon says slowly. He frowns. "But there are qunari who mark each other?"

"Uh huh," Bull says. "From what I hear, it's a pretty popular practice among Tal Vashoth."

Mahanon sits up, his freckled face creasing in guilt. "Shit, I'm sorry, I should have thought-"

"Nineteen."

"Bull." 

"I mean it," Bull says softly. "I'm not... comfortable with being Tal Vashoth just yet, you know that. But I promised you that between you and the Qun, I'd choose you."

"And that's well and fine," Mahanon says, reaching forward to touch Bull and visibly swallowing when Bull puts up a hand, pulling back with effort. "But if you don't want-" 

"Believe me," Bull says, his voice a rumbling growl. "I want."

Mahanon shivers, gripping the sheets.

"But there are other things to consider," Bull says, determined to keep his head clear for this. "A mark like the one you're asking for might really be permanent, kadan."

"I know," Mahanon says. "I'm prepared for that, I... I want that."

"Maybe you do now," Bull says. "But things could change-"

"Do you think things will change?" Mahanon asks, and while the question is a practical one, Bull can hear that thin thread of fear in Mahanon's voice. That buried anxiety of being left behind. 

"You're my kadan," Bull says seriously. "I choose that every day. I love you, and no, I don't see that changing." Mahanon relaxes. "But part of why I know that is because I've had a bit more experience in this area than you."

Mahanon's eyes narrow at that. "Oh?"

"I'm older than you," Bull says. "I've seen more of the world than you have, I've had more partners than you - I'm just laying out the facts, kadan."

"By all means," Mahanon says coolly, his ears flicking. "I wasn't aware I was speaking to a weathered expert in the field of romantic relationships."

"Relationships in general - sex in general-"

"Which is not the same thing and you know it."

"Look," Bull says, raising his hands. "All I'm saying is... one day, you might wake up next to a beat-up old merc, and maybe you'll want something more for yourself. Something better."

Mahanon stares at Bull. "Do you really believe that? Creators, that I might... outgrow you?"

"You're young-"

"So are you!"

"-and maybe one day-"

"Katoh."

Bull stops short. 

Mahanon looks away from Bull, breathing deeply, sparks winding through his hair as he drums his fingertips against the mattress. Breathes again.

"You're angry," Bull says gently.

"No," Mahanon says, then scowls. "Yes. I'm trying not to take your lack of faith personally."

"It's not a lack of faith-"

"It feels like it, damn it," Mahanon says, meeting Bull's gaze with steely eyes. They soften as Mahanon adds quietly, "You're not the only one with fears, you know."

Bull aches to pull Mahanon into his arms to reassure him, but instead asks, "What sort of fears?"

"Mythal'enaste, Bull, you know most of them by now. But I suppose..." Mahanon blows a breath out through his nose. "You fear I might wake up one day and - fuck, I can't even entertain the thought. Well, what if you wake up one day and-" Mahanon clenches his jaw, rubbing a hand over his face. "Sometimes I worry you might - get bored of me. Alright? If we're sharing anxieties."

Bull almost laughs. Not because it's remotely funny, but because the thought is so utterly implausible. "Bored? Kadan, how the fuck could I ever find you boring?"

"How could a man who's travelled the length of several continents and, as you were quick to remind me earlier, has experienced a full range of sexual and interpersonal adventures find a scrawny elf who likes maths and books more than most people boring?" Mahanon says dryly. "I have no idea, truly." 

"Kadan," Bull says again, firmly, and Mahanon looks away. "You're not fucking boring. I'm a real tough guy to surprise, and you manage to find new ways to surprise me nearly every day."

"But what if I run out of ways to surprise you, vhenan?" Mahanon asks quietly, his eyes on the bedspread. 

"For one thing, I don't think that's fucking possible," Bull says. "And for another I love knowing you, kadan. You're interesting as fuck to me, and I love you. I can't imagine that ever changing, no matter what else does."

Mahanon tilts his head, considering Bull's words. "So you're saying that this fear I'm experiencing, though valid, has no impact on your feelings for me and how they might shift over the coming years?"

"I-" Bull stops and scowls. "Stop that."

"Asking a fair question?"

"Being clever, and - and drawing false comparisons. It's not the same thing."

"Why?" Mahanon challenges, lifting his chin. "You find it inconceivable that you might wake up a few years down the road and want something more exciting in your life. I find it inconceivable that I might wake up lying next to a man who has shown me care, compassion, and endless freedom, without even mentioning that said man is seven feet tall and draws the eyes of every man, woman, and otherwise within sight and is fucking incredible in bed, and decide that maybe I could do better."

Bull sighs. "It's just something to consider."

"Not to me," says Mahanon. "And even if it were, which it isn't, being marked by a set of qunari teeth might be a good way to weed out the weak-willed amongst potential future lovers. It would show them the standard they'd need to live up to." 

Bull laughs at that despite himself. "Well, I can't argue with that."

"Nor should you." Mahanon's gaze softens. "I mean it, vhenan. I'm yours, for as long as you'll have me."  

Bull smiles. Fuck, he wants to believe that so damn badly. 

But he trusts and believes, at the very least, that Mahanon believes it. And for now... well, for now, that's more than enough for him. Maybe over time he'll start to believe it too. 

"Alright, then," Bull says, quickly holding up a hand as Mahanon straightens eagerly. "But not tonight. That shit's going to be intense. You'll wanna be all the way down before I start sinking my teeth into you, believe me. Give me some time to plan this out, yeah?"

Mahanon eyes light up. "I'm looking forward to it."

"My tough little kadan," Bull says fondly. "Taking everything I give you and asking for more." 

"Always," Mahanon says heatedly, and Bull can tell the elf is looking for more here and now.

Bull waits a few torturously long seconds, watching Mahanon sit patiently at the end of the bed even as his cheeks start to flush in anticipation, squirming a little under Bull's steady gaze. Even now, even after nearly a year of sharing a bed, Mahanon still reacts so sweetly to being observed by Bull. Bull knows he has the great privilege of bedding a lover who can be undone by a look.

Finally, Bull says, "You want me to touch you now?"

Mahanon nods again, hands flexing in the sheets. 

Bull opens his arms and Mahanon is there in an instant, straddling Bull's lap and leaning up to kiss Bull eagerly, hungrily. Bull growls into the kiss, wrapping his arms tight around his kadan - even if it's not tonight, the idea of what they're planning to do stokes an almost feverish need in Bull, and he's waited damn long enough to sate it.

Bull undoes the tie securing Mahanon's wrap with a sharp yank and tugs the sleeves halfway down to Mahanon's elbows, quickly binding Mahanon's wrists behind his back with the sash. As far as bindings go, it's not Bull's finest work, but it achieves the desired result - Mahanon's hands are secured behind him, his arms pulled back, and bless the elf, he's not wearing underclothes. 

Mahanon presses himself against Bull, kissing his mouth, his chin, his throat, anywhere he can reach with a moaning purr. 

"Cute," Bull murmurs, grinning as Mahanon rubs himself off on Bull with a quiet whine. The elf is already hard and desperate, but fuck, so is Bull. Still, Bull gives Mahanon's ass a hard pinch, delighting in Mahanon's indignant yelp. "You think I've forgotten that you were being a sassy little elf earlier?" 

"I wasn't-" Another pinch, and Mahanon breaks off into another startled squawk. "Bull!" 

"You know I don't mind when my kadan starts getting ornery with me," Bull murmurs, lacing his fingers through Mahanon's hair and getting a firm grip on his curls as he continues to tease Mahanon's bottom with pinches until the elf is squirming to escape him. "Just means I have to work harder to earn your surrender, hmm?"

"I'll be good, promise-"

"Can't let you develop bad habits," Bull says sweetly, kissing Mahanon's nose as he pinches the back of Mahanon's thigh. The elf bares his sharp teeth with a growl. "Now, that's not very nice." 

"You-" Mahanon buries his face in Bull's shoulder with a strangled noise and a hard jerk as Bull pinches him again, then says, "Five coppers!"

"Hmm?"

Mahanon lifts his face, breathing heavily, adorably flushed. "Instead of teasing me tonight, add five coppers to my total."

"Oh, you don't want me to tease you?"

Mahanon squirms again with a hiss, trapped in Bull's grip and his makeshift bindings. "I want you to fuck me."

"I see." Bull pretends to take his time considering it, drumming the tips of his fingers against the back of Mahanon's thigh, knowing full well that Mahanon's ticklish there and enjoying watching Mahanon shift and struggle not to squirm away from him. "Say please."

Mahanon presses forward again, his bare chest rubbing up against Bull's, his hard length trapped between them. His voice is breathless and desperate as he whines, "Please, Bull... please fuck me. I need you, vhenan, please."

Bull groans his approval, capturing Mahanon's mouth with his own for a deep kiss. "Fuck, how can I say no when you beg so sweetly, kadan?" 

"Vhenan," Mahanon whispers again. 

It takes some negotiating, but Bull manages to get his trousers off with Mahanon still straddling his lap and kissing him, even sinking his sharp little teeth in Bull's shoulder. Bull groans as he reaches over to the nightstand where his jar of oil waits, still half-open, and knocks the lid the rest of the way off before coating his fingers.

Despite their cool-down, Mahanon is still worked open enough that it doesn't take long for Bull to prep him again, much to their combined relief. He's still a bit tight, but between Bull's own hot desire coursing through him and Mahanon's needy begging in his ear, it's not very long until Bull is turning Mahanon and bending him over, rising up on his knees behind the elf. He's careful as he presses his cock into Mahanon with plenty of oil and slow, gentle thrusts, but - fuck, it's good, so tight and hot and good. He gives Mahanon time to adjust, gripping the barest edge of his self control by his fingertips as Mahanon squirms and whimpers under him, struggling to press back against Bull and take him deeper.

"Please," Mahanon gasps again, twisting helplessly in his bindings. "Please, please - more, please-"

"Okay," Bull grits out, giving in and thrusting deep into Mahanon. The grateful, needy sound Mahanon makes has Bull curling his toes, and he knows he's not going to last long at this rate. "Alright, kadan, whatever you need. I've got you."

It takes a significant amount of effort on Bull's part as he's sunk deliciously deep in Mahanon, rutting hard while the elf cries out beneath him, not to do as Mahanon has asked and bury his teeth in Mahanon's flesh, clamp down hard enough to break skin, to mark, to claim. It's not the right moment, they're not prepared, no matter how much both of them want it. But Bull thinks about it, and even thinking about it is enough to send him crashing over the edge of his own climax far quicker than usual, gritting his teeth hard enough that he finds himself wishing for a bite stick as he spills into Mahanon with a snarl.

It's good, it's always good, but this bright burst of pleasure really knocks his head for a spin and steals his breath from him. Even so, Bull has enough wherewithal left to him to reach around and finish Mahanon off with a few quick, firm strokes. Bull holds him close as Mahanon gasps and comes hard, squeezing deliciously tight around Bull's spent cock. 

Clean up is quick and haphazard, but they're hardly aiming for perfection. Bull gathers Mahanon up and wraps them both tight in the blankets, revelling in the weight of Mahanon in his arms, Mahanon's breath warm against his throat, the scent of them both tangled up together.

"Love you," Mahanon murmurs with effort, sleepy and sated. He presses closer. "I love you, I love you..."

"Love you too," Bull says, kissing Mahanon's damp brow. "Fuck, I love you. If you're not careful, I might not ever let you go." 

"Good," Mahanon whispers with feeling. 

-

It takes about a month before the opportunity presents itself.

A month, placing them in that sweet golden time between late summer and early fall, where hot sticky days become warm afternoons and evenings have a slight touch of a cool breeze. They're headed for Montsimmard: while the presence of the nearby Circle isn't exactly ideal for avoiding templars, it does mean that there's a significant library in town. 

Bull's been meaning to give the Chargers a good long break. A week in civilization with a lake nearby and plenty of ways to relax seems as good a vacation as any, and Bull knows Mahanon will appreciate having a well-stocked library close at hand despite the risk.

Between his Ben Hassrath duties and his work with the Chargers, Bull knows a few higher-ups in Montsimmard who owe him a favour or two. He sends a letter off a week before they arrive with a few requests. 

The Chargers arrive in Montsimmard just before noon at the end of an easy week of travelling. It was decided the night before to camp early instead of pressing on to town, allowing everyone a lazy re-introduction to civilization and a long afternoon ahead of them. 

"Stables, baths, then straight to the Log," Krem declares as they dismount from their horses outside the town limits, rescuing packs and preparing to hand them off for the week. The Rotlog, despite the name, is one of the more luxurious merc inns Montsimmard has to offer, and the Chargers are well-known there. "Maybe hit up the Siren's Call for the evening? I hear Talisha is back in town."

"If Tallie's in she'll be all booked up," Rocky grunts sourly. "S'what happens when you make a name for yourself."

"She'll make an exception for Krem, no doubt," Dalish says, casting Rocky a sweet grin. "Strange how bookings can rearrange themselves when a handsome man comes to call."

"Nah, it's Grim she's sweet on," Skinner says. "Maybe they could share-?"

Grim and Krem make frighteningly similar noises of disgust as the rest of the Chargers laugh.

"You all have fun," Bull says with a wave. He slings an easy arm around Mahanon's waist, grinning as the elf topples into his side with a startled noise. "If you need anything, we'll be up at the Lakeview, but for fuck's sake try not to need anything."

Predictably, the Chargers respond to this with a chorus of wolf whistles and rude noises - save Mahanon, who regards Bull with bright curiosity as they stable their horses and see the Chargers off. 

"The Lakeview?" Mahanon asks once the Chargers are out of earshot, keeping in step with Bull as they make their way up the cobblestone street of the merchant's quarter of Montsimmard and ignoring the peddlers hawking their wares with practised focus. "Isn't that-" 

"The fuck-off fancy trader's inn? Yep." Bull glances over to see Mahanon squinting slightly, a pensive little frown between his brows, clearly calculating the costs. Bull nudges him. "I got it set up on a massive discount, no need to start crunching numbers. We're on vacation. Figured it would be nice to spend some time away from the boys... just the two of us." 

Mahanon bites back a shy grin at this, but he's obviously pleased. What he says aloud is, "There are women amongst those 'boys' you know."

"'Boys' can be a gender neutral term."

"By definition-"

Bull turns and stoops, pulling Mahanon up by the straps of his pack to interrupt him with a deep kiss. Reckless, utterly reckless, and likely to cause a scandal in the middle of a busy thoroughfare as busy Orlesians stop to gawk at the massive qunari merc passionately embracing his Dalish lover (and another man, no less) in the middle of the street.

But it's worth it, for how Mahanon throws his arms around Bull's neck and kisses him back, leaning up on his toes for more. Worth it, for the sound of Mahanon's laughter as they break apart, colour high in his cheeks and deep affection in his stormy eyes as they continue on towards the inn, ignoring the stares and Orlesian mutterings with, once again, practised focus. 

-

Bull is halfway into their suite when he realizes Mahanon is still stuck in the doorway. 

He turns, and it's impossible not to grin at Mahanon's expression - wide-eyed and slack-jawed, balancing on the threshold as if held back by an invisible barrier.

"Bit of a step-up from our usual, huh?" Bull says.

"It's..." Mahanon blinks a few times, clearly at a loss for words. "Are you sure we're allowed in here?"

It's stupidly grand in a way that only a true Orlesian architect could achieve - wide open spaces with tall ceilings and a rich oak flooring. The walls are all soft yellow plaster with white and gold accents, with wide glass windows thrown open to allow a cool breeze off the lake to drift through the chamber. There's even a deep, wide bath set in the corner with proper piping; no need to call up for hot water. Interesting jars and tins are littered around the marble tiling of the bathing area, likely filled with scents and soaps of all sorts. 

The bed, of course, is the centrepiece. Enormous enough that two qunari could lie perfectly comfortable side by side with room to spare, with a plush maroon rug set beneath it. There's a fireplace, a few pillows and chairs cast about for seating, a table for dining, everything scented with roses and fresh laundry smells. 

Mahanon is still staring, still trying to take it all in. 

Bull puts his bags aside and returns to the doorway, sweeps Mahanon up into his arms - packs, weapons, and all - and carries the stunned elf into the room, tugging the door closed behind them. 

"'Course we're allowed in," Bull says cheerfully, as Mahanon predictably hides his face in his hands. "Did a favour for the guy who owns this place about two years back. He likes to keep me happy, and traders are an eclectic sort, so no one's gonna get uppity about a qunari and an elf taking up residence in here." 

He deposits Mahanon on the bed, stealing the elf's luggage from him as Mahanon settles back and digs his fingers into the blankets, testing the mattress with a little bounce.

"You're going to lose me in here," Mahanon warns, eyeing the size of the bed. "Creators, one would need a mount to get from one end of it to the other in any kind of respectable time." 

"Well," says Bull, putting Mahanon's things aside and spying an easy opening. "If you're looking for something to ride..."

Mahanon rolls his eyes at Bull, but does not protest being tackled into mattress by his enthusiastic qunari lover.

Their lips meet eagerly, still wearing all the dust and sweat of the road and not caring an ounce about anything other than one another's touch. Bull can taste Mahanon's hunger in his kiss, the way he wraps his legs around Bull's waist and arches against him, gripping Bull's horns to pull him closer. 

It's been a while - too long, really, since they've had such time and space for themselves. There's only so much they can get away with on the road (though what they can do, they certainly do, and they bear the brunt of the Chargers' teasing and complaining if they're caught out with humour, if little grace), and the small, creaking beds and thin walls of the typical roadside inns are not much better. There's a need for this, from time to time - space and solitude. Being alone, together.

Neither Bull nor Mahanon were raised on luxury, nor were they raised with the concept of "home" existing in a single place. But sometimes Bull wonders if it wouldn't be nice to have some sort of steady refuge, somewhere - a stable place to return to, maybe once or twice a season, with certain comforts and the kind of privacy that lends itself to deeper intimacy...

It's a strange fucking thought, but Bull's thinking it. He's been thinking a lot of strange things, since meeting Mahanon. It's all still terrifyingly new, but there's this entire world of dreams and possibilities now, all coming into reach the moment he started to believe, even the slightest amount, that Mahanon was his to keep. 

But Bull's never been one for hopes bleeding into expectations. Here and now, Mahanon's warm mouth is on his, sharp little teeth gently closing on Bull's lower lip, and Bull grins to feel that Mahanon is already growing hard against him. 

Mahanon tries to roll them both over, but Bull pins him down, biting at Mahanon's ear. 

"Cute," Bull murmurs, as Mahanon grumbles and squirms under him. "So cute, thinking you're gonna top today." 

"Going for the ears is-" Mahanon makes a strangled noise as Bull nibbles along the point, catching it between his teeth when Mahanon's ears flick and he tries to pull away. "What if I want to pin your wrists to the bed and kiss you silly?" 

"We could wrestle for it," Bull suggests, and Mahanon shivers under him. There are few quicker ways to get them both hot and needy than a quick wrestle - Mahanon plays to win and loves to lose, a combination that works quite well for the both of them. "But I've got some plans lined up for your approval, if you're willing to hear me out." 

Mahanon frowns up at Bull, flushed and needy, his chest heaving against his travelling leathers. "These plans... don't involve either of us attaining any kind of satisfaction within the next five minutes, do they?"

"Where would be the fun in that?"

Mahanon groans and tries for a deeply irritated scowl. "You are absolutely trying to kill me."

"Only a little bit," Bull says, kissing Mahanon's cheek. He releases Mahanon and sits up, willing his own arousal to cool. "You know the Orlesians call it 'la petite mort'? 'A little death' - when you come so hard your head stops working for a moment. That's what I'm aiming for tonight." 

"With plenty of suffering between here and there, I take it," Mahanon sighs, pushing himself up and pouting at Bull. He leans in close, slipping a hand between Bull's thighs and kissing Bull's shoulder. "I don't suppose I can convince you to take me now?"

Bull catches Mahanon's hands and, with reluctant effort, pins them to either side of Mahanon's hips with a low chuckle. There's something fucking special in all of this, something Bull loves about getting to see this passionate side of quiet, shy Mahanon, knowing how to tease it out of him. He'll catch men's eyes following Mahanon from time to time and all he can think when it happens is that those strangers really have no idea what Mahanon's desire actually looks like, and Bull does. 

Bull may have doubts and fears about the future, but this... he can do this. He knows Mahanon wants him. And he knows he can give Mahanon what he's looking for; what he needs. All else aside, it's a heady thing, to serve and to serve well. 

"Hear me out first," Bull murmurs against Mahanon's lips. "Then you can try to seduce me into changing my mind." 

Mahanon looks meaningfully around the room, his gaze returning to Bull's with a raised eyebrow. "You do come up with some pretty wonderful ideas." He kisses Bull, then tucks in close under Bull's chin. "Thank you for this, by the way. It's already just... perfect. If you have plans that involve me thanking you in creative ways, I'm happy to hear them." 

"Such a sweet kadan," Bull says softly, stroking a knuckle along Mahanon's pointed chin. "Almost makes me feel bad, given how hard I plan to work you tonight."

Mahanon makes a tight, needy noise at that. "You know I'm always up for a challenge."

"Oh, I know," Bull says. He takes Mahanon's face in his hands, taking a moment to savour the anticipation in Mahanon's large eyes. "You remember a while back we had that... conversation? About marking?"

Mahanon's breath catches, his eyes flaring wide. He nods eagerly. "Are you saying-?"

"I'm saying, if you're still-" 

"I'm absolutely still-"

"-then I have everything in place for us to do that tonight," Bull finishes. He laughs, touching his forehead to Mahanon's. "Your face! I'm talking about biting you hard enough to scar, and you look so fucking happy about it."

"I am so fucking happy about it," Mahanon says breathlessly, beaming from ear to ear. He takes Bull's face and kisses him hard, grateful and needy all at once and still smiling. "Fuck - fuck, anything you want from me for this to happen, anything, you have it. I'll do it."

"Mm, keep that energy up," Bull says. "You're gonna need it. I'm gonna make you earn my teeth in you, kadan." 

Mahanon swallows hard. "Tell me what you want me to do." 

The elf's voice is soft, his stormy eyes determined. Already on his way down for Bull, placing trust and control in Bull's hands. 

Bull turns his head slightly and brushes Mahanon's wrist with his lips. "There are some private bathing chambers in the east wing. I've already booked one for you - no attendants, just a nice quiet space. There'll be some food and the usual fancy Orlesian soaps and scents. Bring a book, take your time, relax." Bull smiles. "You can think about what I'm gonna do to you when you get back - you can even touch yourself if you want, but you don't get to come. No matter how much you might want to, no matter how desperate you get. Understand?" 

Mahanon squirms, making a face. This kind of torment is particularly effective for Mahanon, Bull knows; the elf climaxes easily and often. Making Mahanon wait and sit in his desire for hours makes for a very desperate lover, and Mahanon will need that desperation tonight to get through Bull's plans. "Is there anything you want me to be wearing when I come back?"

"Anything that makes you feel pretty," Bull says easily, and Mahanon flushes. "You won't be wearing it for long. Oh, and this."

Bull releases Mahanon's hands and walks over to their packs, rustling through his bags a bit longer than necessary - always good to build the anticipation. 

Sure enough, Mahanon is gripping the bedsheets and eyeing Bull with heated apprehension when the qunari finally turns around. Mahanon's eyes fall on the object in his hand and widen incredulously.

"Like I said, take your time," Bull says cheerfully, closing the distance between them and pressing a large glass plug into a stunned Mahanon's hands. "I mean it. No hurting yourself. Slow and careful, yeah? And like I said, no coming."

"You can't be serious," Mahanon says weakly. "Without-? Bull, Creators, I don't know if I have that kind of control..."

"I know you do," Bull says, kissing Mahanon's brow. "I know you can do this for me. You're my good boy." 

Mahanon puts a hand over his face, eyeing the plug in his palm with trepidation. "If - if I fuck up, will we - will you call off tonight?"

"Absolutely not," Bull says, and Mahanon blows out a hefty sigh of relief. "It'll just take longer, and I'll have to bring out your favourite little friend."

Mahanon looks up sharply, utterly aghast. "You fucking wouldn't."

"I fucking would." 

Mahanon makes an utterly distressed sound somewhere between a groan and a snarl, shaking his head. "I'm in love with an evil, wicked sadist. I am. Mythal'enaste." 

"Aw, come on kadan, the Tingler's not that bad," Bull says, utterly enjoying Mahanon's responding scowl. "It's a sex toy, it's magic... what's not to love?"

"If you're so fond of the damn thing, you try wearing it," Mahanon mutters, shuddering. "I thought I was going to fucking die last time, Andruil preserve me."

"Careful, you're making me want to break it out for tonight just to watch you squirm," Bull says. "That's your little stick for the evening, alright? You work that plug into yourself, you don't come until I say, and I don't bring out the Tingler." 

"I'm going to find that thing and bury it somewhere you'll never find it," Mahanon threatens sourly. 

Bull doesn't blame him - given Mahanon's easy nature and stamina, a cock ring that's magically spelled to hum and arouse while preventing the wearer from achieving orgasm presents something of a nightmare scenario for the poor elf. Bull's only used it on Mahanon twice now, making for a few very memorable evenings with plenty of cuddles and praise afterwards to keep Mahanon from murdering Bull. It makes for an effective disciplinary tool when Mahanon's in a mood to test Bull; hard to maintain a sharp tongue and sassy attitude when you're begging and bargaining for release.

Mahanon sighs, turning the glass plug over in his hands. "Alright, I'll - fuck. Figure out how to shove this thing up my ass while keeping myself together, shall I?"

"No shoving," Bull warns, but presses his lips to Mahanon's brow. "My good kadan. When you come back I'll have everything laid out for your approval before we start. Any questions or requests?" 

"Watchword is katoh, durgen is pause," Mahanon says, and Bull nods. Mahanon smiles, all playful dread falling away. "Thank you, vhenan. This is... this is what you want too, yes?"

"This is what I want," Bull says seriously. He folds Mahanon into his arms. "You're who I want. Every hour, every day. I can't fucking wait to take care of you tonight."

"You'll have everything from me," Mahanon whispers. "Everything, I promise. I'll give you everything."

Bull smiles. "Ah, kadan. You already do."

-

Bull has the room ready a half hour before he hears a familiar knock at the door. Grinning, Bull puts his book aside and crosses the room to answer.

"Have a nice bath?" Bull asks, stepping aside to let Mahanon in. There's a delicate herbal scent that follows in the elf's wake, and Bull's damn tempted to snatch Mahanon up and bury his face in his lover's clean, wild curls. 

"I did, actually," Mahanon says primly. He stows his things with the rest of their luggage and turns, lifting his chin. "A nice and successful bath." 

"That's my kadan," Bull says. He looks Mahanon over, letting his eyes linger. Mahanon's dressed simply in a loose tunic and trousers - easier to remove than his usual leggings, so he's clearly taken Bull's hints to heart. He's added a little kohl around his enormous eyes, and Bull gives a little rumble of approval to see it. There are few things Bull finds as satisfying as making an utter mess of Mahanon; that kohl will be smudged and smeared by sweat and tears before the night is through, and they both know it. "That plug didn't give you too much of a... hard time?"

"Very funny," Mahanon says flatly, though a smile tugs at the corner of his full lips. He does his own once-over of Bull, eyes flickering as they touch on Bull's loose dark pantaloons (slightly less distracting than his preferred loud yellow plaidweave), widening as they rest on the fingerless leather gloves Bull's wearing. "Mythal'enaste."

"Same rule is in place," Bull says, beckoning Mahanon over to the bed. "No coming until I say, no matter how much you like the gloves. I've got everything lined up here if you wanna take a look." 

"Sadist," Mahanon grumbles, coming to stand at Bull's elbow. 

Bull watches Mahanon's expression as the elf examines the items laid out on the fancy Orlesian bedspread. Bull knows this face; Mahanon approaches these things with the same careful, curious analytical frown he approaches puzzles and accounts. Trying to piece it all together, trying to build a cohesive picture from disparate pieces. Thinking, thinking. 

It's a compelling arrangement of items, but simple enough: a small bottle of magebane, a few lengths of rope, a blindfold, a prickle wheel (and Mahanon's nose wrinkles distinctly at the sight of it), and two floggers - braided leather and unbraided bull hide. Mahanon snorts at that, offering Bull an ironic little smile. "Bull hide." 

"Yeah, yeah," Bull says, putting an arm around Mahanon's shoulders. "Thoughts?"

Mahanon works his jaw for a moment, narrowing his eyes. "The prickle wheel."

"You two have a complicated relationship."

"I-" Mahanon struggles to find the words for a moment, and Bull gets it. It's this fine line they're riding, this careful dance between teasing and pain and pleasure. Mahanon takes pain well, really well. Teasing is far more difficult for him to handle. The prickle-wheel, with it's painful tickling sensation, falls into that strange love-hate category for him. Sometimes there are no proper words to describe a desire. "You only bring that out as a stick - coppers and such. I want to be good for you tonight, I don't plan to fuss."

"I know, kadan," Bull says, nesting his fingers in Mahanon's curls. Mahanon leans into the touch, eyes half-lidded as Bull starts to gently pull and twist, losing his hand in Mahanon's hair. "I want you to go down deep tonight, and you always go down harder when you're riled up first. When I've got to tame you a little. So I've got a little challenge lined up for you to bring you up a bit before putting you down. Make sense?" 

Mahanon relaxes at the mention of a challenge. Yes, Mahanon does love a challenge, a test, a chance to prove himself. He nods.

Then Mahanon sniffs, and turns to look at the bathing corner. "Should we drain the bath before we forget?"

"Ah," Bull says, dropping his hand. "Nope, I actually refilled that before you got here. Believe me, when it's finished we'll want to get you into some hot water so you don't seize up tomorrow. Shit, that reminds me."

Bull quickly nips back over to their luggage and pulls out a small pouch, passing by a bewildered Mahanon as he drags a stool over to the bathing area and upends the pouch onto its seat. Out fall a few bandages as well as a small jar.

"You should have seen the look on Stitches' face when I asked him to make a poultice that would keep a wound clean and healthy while letting it scar nicely," Bull says, arranging the items on the stool before returning to Mahanon. He kisses Mahanon's forehead. "Out of curiosity, how do all these randy qunari lovers handle hygiene in your books after all the fucking and animal instinct shit is over and done?"

"It never comes up," Mahanon says with an easy shrug. "The power of love wins out over infection."

"Not according to most brothel workers I know," Bull says, raising a brow. He touches Mahanon's shoulder, a few inches from the curve of his neck. "I was thinking of marking you here. Doesn't cut through any of your vallaslin, and you can hide it or show it off as you wish."

Mahanon puts his hand over Bull's, turning to look up at him with large, earnest eyes. "This means a lot to me, vhenan. That you'd be willing to do this. I know the circumstances are... complicated." 

Bull pulls him in close, wrapping his kadan tight in his arms. "Shit with the Qun is complicated, but this? We're good. And whatever I can give you, I want to give you. Fuck, if things were different, I'd-" 

Bull breaks off with a laugh, and Mahanon pulls back just enough to look at him. "You'd what?"

Bull rustles Mahanon's hair, grinning as Mahanon scowls at him. "I'd slay the biggest fucking dragon I could find for you."

Mahanon does laugh at that, even as he shoves Bull's hand away. "Bull, as much as I'd greatly appreciate such a sweeping romantic gesture, I happen to know for a fact that you're happy to slay dragons no matter the occasion." He raises an eyebrow. "Very happy." 

"I still think about that cave outside Val Firmin sometimes," Bull says roughly, and Mahanon takes a long breath. "That big fucking dragon, and both of us smelling like her, all charred up and bloody and alive - fuck, kadan, we should do that again." 

"The Chargers weren't too happy about waiting for us-"

"The Chargers can fucking cope." Bull kisses Mahanon's laughing mouth. "But nah, we've got a tradition under the Qun. We prove our devotion to our kadans by killing a big fucking dragon and making a necklace from one of its teeth, split in two. One half for each. So no matter how far apart we are, we're always... well, you know."

Mahanon isn't laughing anymore. Instead, he gazes up at Bull with soft eyes. "Oh."

"If anyone saw me wearing one, there'd be questions," Bull says seriously. "And if I had one, I'd want to wear it fucking proudly. I never want to hide you, kadan. One day, I want us to have that. But for now, I can give you this. I want you to wake up every day and know that I love you." Bull quirks a smile. "And yeah, seeing my teeth in you, my mark on you? Really fucking hot. You think you're needy right now, I've been thinking about tonight every day since you brought it up."

Mahanon squirms a little, his expression a charming mix of affectionate and beleaguered. "I currently have quite a large object playing all kinds of havoc on my willpower right now, so I'll thank you not to compare our levels of suffering."

"Oh is that what we're calling it now? Your 'willpower'?"

"Shush." Mahanon leans up on his toes, brushing his lips against the line of Bull's chin. "I love you, Iron Bull. You'll always have my heart, no matter the circumstance."

There are moments where it strikes Bull, every ounce of what he has here - the warmth in Mahanon's eyes, his wild hair, scarred hands, every last freckle of his sweet face. The sex is great, but this... Bull could wrap himself up in Mahanon for hours and be happy with it, and as much as he tries to caution himself not to hold on too tightly, he knows he's far too gone to let this go. Not without cleaving part of himself away first, something essential.  

The truth is, Bull wouldn't just slay the biggest dragon he could find for Mahanon. He'd slay a hundred fucking dragons. All that bardic crap about going to the ends of the earth and the deepest parts of the ocean, he gets it now. But Mahanon never asks, he just gives. 

Well, Bull can give too, and he plans to.

"Kadan," Bull murmurs. "Are you ready?" Mahanon nods, bright-eyed and eager. "Good boy. Then let's begin."