[ It is always his choice. But for what it's worth, Bull is really happy that this is the one Dorian's made.
It's difficult not to tighten his grip further, not to immediately pull Dorian down onto his lap, to pull at his robes and mess up his hair and leave marks all over his neck. But he has control (even without the Qun) and he is not going to do too much, not tonight. Not with Felix and the emotions there in the mix.
Kissing, though. He can do kissing, and he kisses back, keeping his hands steady on Dorian's sides. ]
[ Truthfully he doesn't expect much, he never truly does, forces himself never to hope or expect, simply enjoy what he has in the moment for as long as he can. It's a distraction but not done purely to distract himself, he could not deny he has been curious. Drawn. Dorian is a man draw to thinks he should not do, should not touch, should not explore. And Bull─ those old fool is Tevinter would fluster with rage if they knew. A Qunari, how scandalous.
He likes the man enough, perhaps more than enough, more than he should, but never thought to act on it. Too scared, Bull might say, and he might have been right. He needed a push.
Hands find the sides of the other man's face, his brow furrowing briefly before he deepens the kiss, pushes just enough to make his lungs burn and his pulse thunder in her veins. It surprises how careful Bull is, how he stills when he could pull him in and devour him. Another day perhaps, he thinks, pulling away just enough to breathe. ]
Kaffas.
[ He can taste the whiskey on his lips, the fuzzy brown drink, that hideous foul tasting drink, something else that is distinctly Iron Bull and Maker─ it tastes good. ]
[ It is, Bull thinks a bit wildly, a very good thing that he has control. Dorian tastes like whiskey and sugar and awful green shit, but there's also a bit of his makeup, the wax from his mustache, and his own natural taste. There's the feel of him under his palms, the way he kisses, the swearing.
Bull very much wants to hear more of it, to be the cause of it. He wants to feel more, do more.
But not tonight, he reminds himself. Not tonight.
Still... ]
You can sit down, [ he offers, spreading his legs and gesturing toward his lap. ]
[ Part of him wishes he didn't have such control, part of him wishes he would throw it all to the wind and just─ Fuck. What a terrible thing to think, suited for someone as terrible as him. He might regret it later, but in this moment he can't quite find it in himself to care much.
Dorian breathes, inhale exhale, tongue absently darting out to lick his lips. Sit? He can sit, right. ]
Can I now? [ He asks with a breathy sort of laugh, thumb brushing over the sharp grooves of Bull's scars.
He climbs into Bull's lap not even a moment later, settling there comfortably, pressed against the Qunari's chest and kisses him again. Kisses him hard. ]
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action.
It's difficult not to tighten his grip further, not to immediately pull Dorian down onto his lap, to pull at his robes and mess up his hair and leave marks all over his neck. But he has control (even without the Qun) and he is not going to do too much, not tonight. Not with Felix and the emotions there in the mix.
Kissing, though. He can do kissing, and he kisses back, keeping his hands steady on Dorian's sides. ]
action.
He likes the man enough, perhaps more than enough, more than he should, but never thought to act on it. Too scared, Bull might say, and he might have been right. He needed a push.
Hands find the sides of the other man's face, his brow furrowing briefly before he deepens the kiss, pushes just enough to make his lungs burn and his pulse thunder in her veins. It surprises how careful Bull is, how he stills when he could pull him in and devour him. Another day perhaps, he thinks, pulling away just enough to breathe. ]
Kaffas.
[ He can taste the whiskey on his lips, the fuzzy brown drink, that hideous foul tasting drink, something else that is distinctly Iron Bull and Maker─ it tastes good. ]
action.
Bull very much wants to hear more of it, to be the cause of it. He wants to feel more, do more.
But not tonight, he reminds himself. Not tonight.
Still... ]
You can sit down, [ he offers, spreading his legs and gesturing toward his lap. ]
action.
Dorian breathes, inhale exhale, tongue absently darting out to lick his lips. Sit? He can sit, right. ]
Can I now? [ He asks with a breathy sort of laugh, thumb brushing over the sharp grooves of Bull's scars.
He climbs into Bull's lap not even a moment later, settling there comfortably, pressed against the Qunari's chest and kisses him again. Kisses him hard. ]