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The messenger knocked for the second time, but Cullen still didn't hear it. It was only when his door creaked open that he looked up from his reports to find Jim, his least favorite runner, standing nervously before him.
"Report, soldier," he said, returning to his work with irritation. He hated being interrupted.
"I have a message, ser," Jim muttered, his face the only thing visible through the barely-open door.
Cullen looked up again, his mouth set in a line. "Bring it here, Jim," he said, gesturing for the runner to actually enter his office instead of skulking in the doorway.
Jim looked about ready to wet himself as he edged inside, extending the parchment as far out from his body as he could get. When it was within reach, Cullen snatched it, glaring.
"Who's it from?" He demanded, not bothering to glance at the outside as he slid a gloved finger under the seal.
Jim's eyes widened and he jerked his hand back. "The Inquisitor, ser."
"The Inquisitor's in Skyhold, Jim," he snapped as he started reading. "Why would she… would she…" The words leaping off the page numbed his brain into near non-functionality and he blinked several times.
"Commander? … Ser?"
"Dismissed, soldier," he snapped, realizing the scout was still in his office. Jim was almost to the door when Cullen's voice stopped him again. "Wait! You will be stationed here until I return."
Jim turned back with fear in his eyes. "Commander?"
Cullen had already shed his cloak and was unbuckling his armor. "I need to run an errand," he said a little too loudly. "You will remain here. If anyone comes looking for me, tell them I am not to be disturbed." He gingerly set his breastplate down, a sharp contrast to the way his gloves slapped against the desk in his haste to remove them.
In front of him, Jim just stared.
"Is that clear, soldier?" Cullen asked, running his hands along his hair to smooth it down.
"Yes ser," Jim yelped, snapping out a salute.
"Good. I'll be back." He grabbed the parchment from the Inquisitor off his desk and swept out his door toward the keep. Jim stared after him, hands trembling, for a moment before the door swung shut.
Cullen could barely keep from running as he headed up the stairs toward the far reaches of Skyhold. The Inquisitor's message kept running through his head.
Commander --
Found a new place I want to explore. Go all the way up the stairs behind the mosaic. Middle door.
No armor allowed. Other clothing: optional.
Talia
---
The quest took far longer than he'd expected. There were many mosaics in Skyhold, most still unfinished, and almost all of them had stairs somewhere near them. And Cullen frankly didn't believe at first that Talia could have possibly meant the mosaic near Vivienne's landing, so he'd ignored it.
Of course, that turned out to be the right one. When he emerged through the door from the library, Vivienne sat on her daybed, using magic to manicure her perfect nails. He managed not to get drawn into a debate about the merits of the Circles, but when he asked, as casually as possible, if she'd seen the Inquisitor passing through, Vivenne had given him a knowing look. She'd gestured toward the door behind the last mosaic in Skyhold and he'd scurried off, trying not to appear too eager.
The middle door looked exactly like all the others on this landing, and Cullen wondered what had drawn Talia's interest. He made a mental note to ask her after he berated her for making him skirt by Vivienne.
Both thoughts disintegrated when he pushed open the door.
Talia sat in a giant wooden chair facing the door, a wide smear of black face paint across her eyes and the top of her nose. A long white line extended down her nose, her chin, her neck, her chest, until it disappeared under the swatch of dark brown fur obscuring her breasts. The band was a small one, just barely wrapped around her chest, with twists of white and black rope crisscrossing her torso. Below it, the white paint reappeared, a widening line moving down her stomach before disappearing into furry smalls made from the same material as the breastband. His eyes followed the line down to her spread legs and he sucked in a breath, his pupils blown wide. Thigh-high leather boots, wrapped with rope, ran up her legs and one knee was tossed casually over the arm of the chair on which she sat. Her chin rested delicately on her opposite hand, her elbow planted on the chair.
Around her forearms lay wide fur wristbands, thin leather strips tying those to matching bands around her upper arms. Black paint led his eyes back up her arms to her face, and he swallowed hard when their eyes met. Where he'd expected nervousness, or perhaps the struggle of sexy versus self-conscious, he instead only found smoldering green, begging him to step into the room and rip the costume off her body.
He was more than happy to oblige, but he couldn't quite get his body to cooperate.
After several long minutes of him staring, Talia cleared her throat.
"Cullen?" She asked quietly, trying to maintain her smolder and poise in the face of his silence. "You coming in?"
He started, his eyes flying back up to her face from where they'd wandered down. "Maker's breath," he gasped. "Yes, yes." Stepping inside, he slammed the door shut behind him, pausing to stare furtively at the handle for a moment before turning around.
Talia's hand had dropped, leaving her to look up at him nervously. "Hi," she said quietly.
In a moment, he'd dropped to his knees in front of her, pushing his torso between her spread legs and reaching up to catch her face with his hands. He yanked her face to his for a searing kiss. Her leg dropped off the chair to press against him as she kissed him back.
"Talia," he said when he pulled away. "Are you wearing Avvar lingerie?"
The sudden question surprised a laugh out of her and she pushed him back to stand up. He relented, leaning back on his arms to look up at her.
"I am!" She positively squealed, spinning in a small circle so he could see the whole outfit. The fur smalls were miniscule in the back, only a thin strip that left most of her ass on display. If he'd already been hard before, now he was straining against his smalls.
He tried to distract himself for a moment. "Where did you get those?"
Before him, Talia settled herself back onto her chair, keeping her legs spread. Cullen struggled to keep his eyes on her face as she spoke. "I bought them in Stone-Bear Hold," she said. "I thought you might like them." She gave him a sultry look as she spoke.
But the functionality of said smalls -- sexy as they might be -- piqued Cullen's curiosity. "Talia, the Avvar are the most clothed people in Thedas. Why would they have fur lingerie?"
"Why Commander," she said, adjusting the smalls so they covered even less of her lower abdomen. Maker's breath, that white line went down even further than he'd thought! "Are you questioning my sincerity?"
He pushed himself up to rest his hands on her knees. "Not at all, my dear Inquisitor. Merely that of your outfit."
She laughed at that. "Fine, you win. I got them in Val Royeaux. Apparently the Orlesians find their imaginings of the Avvar lifestyle very appealing, even if they are totally inaccurate."
"They are correct in that," he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her belly button. A smear of white paint clung to his lips when he pulled away. "But what in Thedas are all these ropes for? Not one of them seems structurally necessary." He picked at one, tugging it gently to examine it.
Talia tolerated this for about a minute until she yanked it out of his hand. "Cullen." His eyes lifted to her face, eyebrows up in earnest curiosity. "Are you going to analyze the practicality of my outfit, or are you going to help me out of it?"
A smirk spread across his face at that. "My apologies, Inquisitor," he said, his smile turning feral. "Your Avvar persona is quite impatient, I see." He crawled up her body, lifting himself on his knees until he was close to eye-level.
"A thane always gets what she wants," Talia replied, leaning back out of easy reach.
He bent down to kiss her collarbones, leaving tiny white marks behind. "And what is it that you want?" His hands ran up her body to skim over the fur of her breastband as he spoke.
"You," she whispered, her chest rising and falling with her breaths.
Cullen smiled. "As you wish, so shall it be."
His hands followed the band around to her back, where he deftly unlaced it. It slid off as he pulled her forward to meet him, her lips sinking against his, white paint and all. The kiss started almost gentle, but as the band fell and Talia felt her nipples press against the linen of his shirt, she couldn't help the way it morphed. Each rasp of his calloused hands against her back brought her arching harder into his mouth and chest, her hands now buried in his hair.
One hand snaked down to yank the band fully away from her body, tossing it aside. His other hand slid up to cup her breast, his thumb and forefinger pinching gently at her nipple. When she moaned, he pushed his tongue inside her mouth, and she moaned again at the intrusion. Her own tongue slid against his, their kiss hungry and frantic.
His cock was straining uncomfortably against his smalls now, and this certainly wasn’t helped by Talia's sudden push of her hips against his. He could feel the heat radiating through her smalls. Her booted legs wrapped around his thighs, heels just touching the floor inside his knees.
He groaned when her hands dug into his ass, yanking him against her. In this kneeling position, his cock could just grind against her core, but there was a frustrating amount of fabric between them. His hands slid down her back and tucked under the waistband of her furry smalls, their lips never leaving each other's. She lifted herself so he could tug them down only for him to realize her boots were going to be in the way.
"Talia," he managed to get out, and she pulled back a fraction.
Glancing down, she too saw the problem. "Rip them," she murmured, her breath searing against his skin as she kissed up his neck.
Cullen tried to focus past the dizzying electricity shooting through his body as she bit him. "What about…"
"Cullen!" She gasped as he tugged them again. "Rip. Them."
"Oh!" He groaned out when she sucked on the muscle in his neck, her lips soothing the bite. "Yes, anything…" His fingers tightened in the fur, getting a good grip before he tore them apart. The fabric shredded in his hands, one piece still looped around her leg.
She had gasped again when he yanked, her fingers tightening their grip on his backside. He dropped his forehead to her chest as he tried to wiggle the scraps off her and she took the opportunity to untuck his shirt, pulling its tail up toward his head. It bunched under his chin, and Cullen moved so she could peel it off. Once done, her hands scratched up and down his back, his own hands returning to her destroyed smalls. A line of white paint covered his forehead but neither noticed.
"Leave them," she said, and he obeyed, his hand instead dragging slowly over her core. She pulled him up into another desperate kiss before he pulled back, amber eyes boring into hers. Never breaking eye contact, he ran his fingers through her curls, feeling the slick of her arousal warm against her skin. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as one thumb brushed over her clit, and he leaned back in to kiss her.
His hands ran gently over her core before he spread her folds. The warmth intensified, and he slipped one finger into her as she moaned and gasped into his mouth. When he crooked his finger against her walls, she almost screamed and sucked hard on his tongue, the heat shooting straight to his cock.
One of her hands abandoned his back, reaching between them to grip his length through his breeches. As he kept his finger moving smoothly within her, his other hand fumbled with the laces on his pants, struggling to loosen them. Her hand moved to help, clenching whatever it was touching when his finger found that spot within her.
Finally, they managed to loosen his pants and Cullen pushed them down on one side. Talia didn't even go for the other, instead plunging her hand into his smalls and squeezing him.
Now it was his turn to groan into her mouth and he pushed his finger into her more roughly than before.
"Oh! Yes!" She burst out, her own hand tightening. Hips pushing at her hand, he slid his finger in and out of her faster, her moans like lightning through his cock. She pressed her face against his neck, her lips skimming the skin there and leaving white and black paint behind.
Her hips bucked against him, her walls clenching. The hand wrapped around him pumped him in time with her movement, and he could feel the edges of his control disintegrating.
"Talia," he hissed in her ear, but she didn't notice as her climax broke over her and she nearly screamed, her free hand digging into his back as she clutched at him.
He stayed where he was, grateful she'd come when she did so he could regain himself. His finger move inside her, gently teasing out the aftershocks, until she fell back against the chair, her mouth open and eyes glassy.
She struggled for a moment to catch her breath, her eyes following Cullen's hand as he slid the finger that had been inside her into his mouth. His eyes stared into hers as he sucked her juices from it, and she shivered.
With an obscene pop, his finger popped out of his mouth, and Talia leapt at him, knocking him back onto the rug. He nearly hit his head on a pile of books behind him as they fell. The moist heat from her core settled against his abs as she straddled his chest, running her fingers over the firm muscles of his body. When she leaned down to lick the long raised scar that traversed his chest, he shivered and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down against him. As she shifted, her heat came to rest against his shaft and he involuntarily thrust up, coating it with her arousal.
She gasped and pushed back down, her lips seeking his. His strong hands dug into her back; one slid down to hold her hips against his manhood, trapping him between her thighs. Her tongue licked into his mouth to tangle with his, and he moaned around their kiss, eyes closed.
As suddenly as she'd tackled him, she was gone -- his hands grasped at nothing, and he wasn't quite sure how she'd escaped his grip. He sat up, the cool air in the room chilly against the wet spots on his torso and cock.
Talia had scampered away to stand next to the bed they'd ignored. One hand gripped her fur-covered wrist as she peeked over her shoulder at him, looking as innocent as possible. It might have worked if she hadn't been naked except for those wristbands and her thigh-high boots.
Cullen's cock twitched.
As he watched, she stretched her body up, hands running along her sides before vanishing briefly, presumably to cup her breasts before she raised them over her head. Then, slowly, she bent down, pushing her sweet, round ass in his direction until she was nearly horizontal over the bed.
Just looking at her almost made him come. Biting the inside of his lip, he managed to hold off, but he gripped himself tight.
"Care to join me?" She nearly purred, clasped hands reaching further across the bed and nudging the various robes and pillows there out of the way. When the space was clear, she dropped to her elbows, which pushed her ass even higher in the air. He could see the light glistening off her slit as it peeked from between her legs.
He swallowed. "Oh Maker, yes." Climbing to his feet, he stumbled out of his pants, nearly tripping over a box of chess pieces. His smalls were abandoned on the floor. He moved behind her, hands running across the taut muscles in her back and shoulders. She spread her legs, cunt pulsing with want. Pressing himself against her, he slid his hands down her arms, smearing the black lines as he went, until his fingers could intertwine with hers. She leaned her head against his, their cheeks touching.
Light thrusts against her ass brought his cock to full attention as he loomed over her, chest pressed against her back. He could feel her warmth with his tip each time he moved, and he throbbed, ready for her.
"Cullen…" she groaned. "Please…"
Standing up off her, he rubbed the head against her, warm and welcoming. He disentangled his fingers from hers to grip his shaft, using his other hand to spread her folds. When she moaned again, he pushed himself in, slow inch by slow inch. He could feel her body stretching to take him, her walls parting like warm silk. A desperate sound left his lips as he watched his cock disappear into her body until her ass rested against him.
For a moment, neither moved. Cullen loved -- when he had the self-control -- to savor this moment, their joining. They fit each other so perfectly, the Inquisitor and her Commander, the Commander and his Inquisitor, that sometimes he wondered what he'd finally done to make up for the sins of his life and deserve this happiness. A prayer of thanks to the Maker flickered through his mind, there and gone so fast he barely registered it.
Then Talia shifted, bringing her ass up a little higher so he went a little deeper, and that moment of contemplation was gone, replaced by heat and noise and warmth but leaving a bubble of thanks deep in his chest.
He pulled out and plunged back in, his erection gliding against her. She met his movement, her hips pushing back against him. Neither moved very fast, both wanting to prolong their pleasure as much as possible. But then Cullen gave a particularly rough thrust, his cock hit the perfect spot inside her, and she let out a choked gasp, pleasure spiking through her.
"Oh, Maker, do that again," she begged.
This was all that Cullen needed to hear before he lost himself, his hips surging into her heat. Talia's moans kept coming, mixing with Cullen's as he fucked her hard into the bed. He was never really quiet when they were together, but now he was louder than she'd ever heard him, and she loved it.
She could feel her cunt leaking around him, his cock making that wonderful slick sound as he moved within her. He had been standing, hands braced against her ass, but suddenly he fell forward, chest colliding with her back. She grunted as her body took his weight.
Cullen buried himself in her, buried his face against her shoulders, his arms encircling her so he could massage her breasts. His hips snapped against her with abandon, and she was barely able to push back against his weight, but the head of him still slammed into that perfect spot with every thrust, making her vision go white. Heat coiled in his stomach as he came to the edge and he held on, determined to take her over with him.
"Talia…" he whispered her name, and she shoved herself back, a near-shout bursting from Cullen as she clenched around him.
"I'm close…" she moaned. "Cullen… touch me, please…"
One hand abandoned her breast and reached down to press against her clit, his fingers making tight circles against her body. She cried out, lifting her head back toward him, and he lifted his own head, leaving hints of white paint across her back. Moving his fingers faster, he drove in and out of her, chasing his own end.
Just as he heard her breath hitch, he leaned and bit her shoulder where the muscle met her neck. Her back arched with a scream, and she came around him, her walls clinging to his cock. The spasm pushed him over and he bottomed out inside her, using his hand against her cunt to hold her to him. Their cries mingled as he emptied himself into her, her body shaking in response.
For a moment, they were frozen in ecstasy, and then Talia's shoulders gave out. She tumbled down onto the bed, taking Cullen with her. His weight crushed her for a moment before he managed to roll them onto their sides, legs hanging off the edge.
They lay there, chests heaving, until Cullen flopped over to his back, arms splayed. Talia leaned against his chest, looked down, and started laughing.
He peeked at her from one barely-opened eye. "What's so funny?"
"Look!" She gestured down at her chest. Cullen blinked at her before struggling to sit up. Large black smudges covered her bare breasts, smears extending from her nipples like…
"Are those… handprints?" He lifted his own hands to find black paint smeared all over his palms. When he moved them over her body, they corresponded perfectly with where he'd been touching her chest.
He started laughing, dropping back onto the bed with a gust of air. As their laughter died down, Talia lifted one booted foot as high as she could get it, both following the arc of her toes as it dropped back over the edge of the bed.
"So," she finally said when they'd caught their breath. "Avvar costume: success?"
Cullen rolled to face her, pushing himself up on one elbow. "Success. But…" He reached out to wipe the remains of the white paint off her nose with his thumb. There was no helping the black line across her forehead, which had dribbled down her temples in beads of sweat.
"Maybe no paint next time?" She wiped a hand across her forehead, taking some of it with her.
"Maybe no paint next time." He bent to kiss her shoulder, leaving another white mark in his wake. Then he sat up and grabbed for her feet, pulling the boots off. Tossing them aside, he shift them both up onto the bed and snuggled her against his chest. Flat on her back, she threw her knees over his thighs.
"Maker, there's paint all over me!" The white line down her abdomen had smeared until most of her torso was whitish, and another rough black handprint decorated the skin just above the juncture of her thighs. Cullen blushed to see the evidence of him so obvious on her body.
"I'm just glad you didn't paint anything more… intimate," he offered, resting his forehead against her temple.
"Me too."
"Why paint anyway?"
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and sucked on her lip. "It's what the Hakkonites do, down in the Frostback Basin. And since it came with the outfit… I thought it would be more authentic." Her voice sounded a little unsure and Cullen couldn't help but chuckle.
"Once again following the romantic notions of the Orlesians, I see."
Talia shrugged and drew designs on his skin with a forefinger. "It worked, didn't it," she said, and Cullen had to agree. They lay like that for a while, talking and relaxing as the haze of their mid-day lust faded.
Talia stretched, pulling her arms up to arch her back and press her chest up. Cullen was admiring the view when a thought struck him.
"Quizzie," he began, the corner of his mouth ticking up when she smiled at the silly nickname. "Where are we, exactly?"
She shrugged, continuing her stretching. "I don't really know. Some room I found when I went through a new door by Vivienne's balcony. There are quite a few up here." Cullen blushed upon being reminded that Vivienne suspected their little tryst but pushed down the urge to be annoyed.
Instead, something about the new rooms bothered him. "Really? What are they like?"
She rolled to face him, throwing a leg over his hip. He slid one knee between her legs and ran a hand along her side as they talked. "They're nice, like this one. Most are decorated, some have book and things in them. I'm surprised we aren't using them."
A memo from Josephine a few days ago was starting to come into focus in Cullen's mind. "This is a bedroom though…" he started, trailing off as he struggled to remember the content of the note.
Talia didn't seem bothered, but then again, she hardly read anything unless Josephine and Leliana insisted. Cullen had long since given up that battle. "Yeah, so?"
"Hang on… You mean, this is one of the bedrooms that was just finished?" Then it clicked. Cullen's eyes went wide. "That your Inner Circle members were just assigned?"
Talia froze mid-yawn and sat up fast. "Oh sweet Maker, NO!"
Cullen sat up too, both staring at each other in horror. "Yes."
"Oh no," she scrambled off the bed, pulling at the blanket under Cullen to cover herself. Something else from the memo popped into Cullen's head and he grabbed her arm.
"Wait… There was an extra!" Her bright expression betrayed her hope and she dropped the blanket to clutch his shoulders.
"Really?"
"Yes! There was definitely an extra, something about Sera not wanting to move and…" he trailed off, his mind struggling to conjure up a mental picture of the room assignments.
"Is this one it?" When he didn't answer, Talia shook his shoulders a little. "Cullen, is this it?"
His face betrayed his hesitation, his hands grabbing nervously for the back of his neck. "If I am honest, I don't think so. The extra was on the end I believe, and this one is right in the middle…"
Her face fell. "No luck then. I looked at them all. This one is by far the nicest too…"
"And that means…" He started muttering to himself as he looked around the room, trying to place who would want quarters with all these books. "Leliana refused to leave her tower, Cassandra sleeps in the smithy, Vivienne has that balcony still…"
But he was several steps behind Talia, whose eyes had fallen to the books that littered the floor, the robes she'd shoved off the bed, the chessboard Cullen had almost tripped over in his hurry to claim her.
"Oh no."
Cullen looked up from his muttering to meet her eyes. "Oh no? Talia, whose room are we in?"
From the doorway came a voice.
"Mine," Dorian said. His smooth Tevinter accent practically oozed with amusement, and he offered them an innocent smile.
Talia nearly screamed, clapping a hand over her mouth. Neither one of them had heard the door creak open a moment before, and now they were exposed before him, dumbfounded.
"Maker, no!" She spun, yanking the blanket out from under Cullen, who was jerked off the bed and landed on the floor with a thud. He managed to grab a pillow on the way down, which he clutched over his privates.
"Maker, yes," Dorian said, wiggling his eyebrows at them. Cullen could feel fire spreading through his face and down his chest, painting his body bright red under the remains of Talia's body paint. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with the mage.
Above him, Talia had wrapped the blanket around her chest, hiding as much of her naked body as she could. "I am so sorry," she squeaked, scrambling to pick up their clothes. "I had no idea this was your room, I never would have… Oh Maker, Dorian, forgive me, I'm so sorry, we'll, uh, we'll just be going!" The second all their clothes were in her arms, she pushed past him, speed-walking away down the stone path and vanishing through a door back to the keep, blanket fluttering behind her.
Dorian stared after her for a moment before turning back to Cullen, his lips curled into almost the same shape as his moustache.
"Well, Commander, I must say…" he began, and whistled.
Cullen still refused to make eye contact, instead sweeping the room for his pants. It look a long minute, in which Dorian ogled him shamelessly, before he realized that Talia had taken his clothes along with her own. Slowly he stood up, keeping a tight grip on his pillow.
"I apologize, Dorian," he said quietly, wishing he could disappear. "I had no idea this was… your… room… Talia-- the Inquisitor!--just…"
Dorian watched this apology from the doorway before he spoke. "I did wonder what happened to our darling Inquisitor when she missed our library date this afternoon," he offered, tilting his head to gaze at Cullen's chest with obvious interest.
"I am… again, sorry," Cullen said. He was taller than the mage, but Dorian might as well have been looming over him for how embarrassed he was. The red had only intensified on his chest. "I would … appreciate… your, uh, discretion in this, um, this matter?" His voice rose, uncertain, and he glanced up to meet Dorian's eyes.
"My discretion, my dear Commander?" The mage moved to sit down, and Cullen quickly extended a warning hand at the risk of dropping his pillow.
"Um… I wouldn't, uh, sit… there…" he forced out, blood again rushing to his face. And to other parts at the memory, to his further shame.
Dorian threw the chair a disgusted look before he laughed. "I'm proud, my dear Commander," he said, stepping closer to Cullen. "A little experimentation does everyone good."
"Maker's breath," Cullen choked out, his hand starting to rise to his neck before he remember his pillow's precarious position. Then, when the mage merely grinned salaciously at him, he rubbed one hand over his face. "If you send your bedclothes to the laundry, I will personally see that they are taken care of… soon…"
Dorian bent over as Cullen spoke and snatched something off the floor. When he started twirling the scrap of fabric on his fingertips, Cullen realized they were his smalls. His eyes widened and he sucked in a breath.
"That's all well and good, Commander, but what about your, shall we say, escape?"
"Dorian, please…"
"Skyhold is a busy place, Commander," he said solemnly, enjoying the nearly-purple blush that covered Cullen's body. The man really did have an amazing physique, and he couldn't help staring as it reddened the more he teased. "And I just don't know what I'm going to do about cleaning this room!" He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead in feigned distress.
Cullen tried to extend a calming hand but almost lost his pillow. His face reddened further. "I will, um, see to that…"
The mage ignored him, continuing his outburst and wringing his hands around Cullen's smalls. "I'll have to carry my laundry all the way across Skyhold! The shame!" He paused in his hand-wringing to give Cullen a significant look. "And you know how those maids love to gossip." He winked so fast Cullen almost missed it.
"No, no, Dorian, don't do that, I'll um… I'll send a runner to get everything! You won't have to …touch… anything," he insisted, backing himself slowly up against the bed for protection. "Jim! Jim will come get everything, just as soon as I get back to my office…"
Dorian flung his head back and nearly wailed, his fake distress rising to new heights. "Not Jim! That mongrel will see that my room is such a mess, what will he ever think of me then! Oh, I am positively traumatized!"
Cullen could feel his options disappearing before him. "I swear to you, no one will find out. I just… Talia, she took the blanket. I… have only the pillow to, um, cover… myself, oh Maker preserve me, this is humiliating."
The smirk on Dorian's face was too obvious now for his little tantrum, but he valiantly continued. "No one trysts in my room, including myself. It is a place of quiet reflection, and now the energies are disturbed, and the smell…"
An awful, embarrassing, perfect solution popped into Cullen's mind as Dorian threw his hands up, raising his face to the ceiling as if beseeching the Maker for guidance in this troubled moment. The Tevinter had teased him about his body often enough, especially around Talia, but never with as much enthusiasm as that time playing Wicked Grace when he'd lost to Josephine. He'd made it out of the tavern with no one -- except Talia, later -- getting an eyeful, but maybe, just maybe, that could work now.
Before him, Dorian had progressed to near-fake-weeping, dabbing Cullen's smalls against his cheeks like a disgusting handkerchief. "I've heard rumors about rooms being found in disarray lately, and the Inquisitor is always vanishing, but you just never think it will happen to you!"
Cullen's heart sank when he heard that. Other rooms? What other rooms? This was the first room he and Talia had invaded, so certainly no one would think that they had been the ones to create all those messes.
The realization that that was exactly what everyone would think settled over his mind, and he groaned, dropping his head into his one free hand. Maker forbid anyone find out about Dorian's room, or he'd never be able to show his face again. His soldiers would tease him until he spontaneously combusted from the shame, Commander or no.
Before him, Dorian's fake-crying had slowed. The two men spoke at almost the same time.
"Fine, Commander, I can see that my plight--"
"There's no way I'm getting out with my dignity--" They exchanged looks before Cullen's chin hit his chest with a groan.
"I have a compromise," Cullen offered, taking a deep breath. He scrunched his eyes closed and dropped the pillow, fighting the urge to cover himself with his hands. One hand still rose to clutch the back of his neck and he mentally offered an apology to the Maker. And to Talia, though he wasn’t thrilled with her at the moment for leaving him in this situation. Or for getting him into it, if he were honest. Though it had been a fun interlude… he tried to quell those thoughts quickly before a rush of blood made things even worse.
Dorian pondered the visage before him for a long moment, his eyes roving up and down Cullen's body. Maker knew, he'd teased the man enough, but he'd never once thought he'd actually be in this situation. Bull was going to be so jealous.
But Cullen was still his friend, attractive or otherwise, and so Dorian spoke perhaps sooner than he really would have liked in an effort to save a scrap of his pride.
"Well…" Cullen's eyes opened a crack to see Dorian looking positively gleeful. "My dear best friend is luckier than I thought," he offered, grinning.
"Maker's breath," Cullen groaned. One hand rubbed over his eyes and the other moved to cover his privates.
"I guess I can't fault her for taking your pants off every chance she gets, now can I, Commander? Although… why are you covered in paint?" Cullen looked down in surprise, his hands leaving his body, and remembered that Talia's Avvar warpaint had rubbed off all over him.
"Um…"
"Why ser," Dorian gave him an impressed look, his eyebrows almost vanishing into his perfectly coifed hair. "Playing a little Avvar and Commander, were we?"
"Andraste's tits--"
"The Inquisitor's, I believe--"
Cullen's jaw nearly hit the floor in surprise; red spread even further down his chest as he flushed. Again. For perhaps the hundredth time. Dorian just laughed.
"Can I, um… leave, please?" Cullen choked out.
"Compromise accepted, Commander," Dorian nodded. "But please send that Jim fellow to clean up after you."
Not making eye contact, Cullen shouldered past him, and Dorian noted that even his back was covered in that same pretty pink blush. He eyed the Commander's rear end shamelessly. "Though, I'm glad you left the pillow. I do like a good souvenir." Cullen looked at the mage in horror, and Dorian gave him a saucy wink.
"… I hate you," Cullen ground out and nearly ran from the room.
"Don't forget, we have chess tomorrow," Dorian called after him, leaning out the door. He then turned back to survey the mess of his room, wondering what all he'd need to clean and sanitize before he could sit on it. He'd just crossed his arm over his chest, pondering the condition of his chair with his chin in his hand, when Cullen reappeared behind him.
"And those are mine!" The Commander snatched his smalls from Dorian's raised hand and sprinted away, Dorian's laughter following him all the way into the keep.