I should have imagined you'd be so elaborate in your dealings.
[ His tone is low and teasing, and he finds a place to sit, rough rock, dry warmth. Fine, so, he won't be getting laid so profoundly tonight, or for the next however long, but he's had longer dryspells. Clearly he's been spoiled, lately. ]
But perhaps that's what a little forward planning permits.
Pavone, if you find a little wax and rope to be elaborate you have not gotten out near enough. [ He hums softly under his breath, counting out lengths of rope. ] We could fix that when you return, if you like. There is a wide, wonderful world to show you.
I did not exactly have time to bring my kit with us to Nevarra- and who said it was to never be spoken of again? [ He clucks his tongue. ] If you would rather, I will not- so long as we are able to perhaps do so again. In depth.
It's the Tevinter way, to never speak of it again, sometimes not even to oneself. It isn't the Antiva way, I take it. Nor the Seheron way, I'm certain.
[ He can't believe that's a phrase that's garnered momentum. He's heard it at least twice, now. Dorian shakes his head, but focuses on the conversation at hand. His tone flattens into dry humour; ]
Been ridden by, more like.
[ This ability to speak of these things come at small, personal costs. Little internal knife cuts of reflexive, conditioned anxiety. It's different, anyway, with people he trusts, or in Zevran's case, people he's had his mouth on. ]
If I don't die out here of gurns or dragons or Venatori or sand fleas, I'll have to think about it.
Mmmm. Now that would be a thing to see. It does leave one sore the next day, doesn't it? All those little aches and bruises you earned reminding you of his hands or mouth.
[ Ease comes through discussion, through exposure. For every shred Dorian shares? Zevran offers twice as much back to sooth whatever knotted bits of fear may linger.
It is only fair. ]
The offer is open to you as long as you like, to consider or to take as you wish.
[ An echo, of what Bull had promised (and delivered). It's been more than the day after and the day after that, by now, and rather than ruminate on how very far away he is, privately, he allows his sigh to be audible, exaggerated, as if saving the world were a terrible inconvenience to his sex life.
Well, it is, but, you know. It's also the world. ]
You'd have to explain to me what the rods are for, and I have a feeling I'd politely decline them.
[ The most pleasing of aches, those. Ones he'd been happy to carry about until they faded.
At the question he perks up a bit, brought out of his perusal of his memories. There is a sound like resonant steel, but softer, finer, as he draws one of the aforementioned rods against another. ]
Well...honestly this is something better shown than explained, I have diagrams from explaining it to Merrill, but there are more than two ways to penetrate a man. The rods are for the third, ranging from terribly thin for the untrained to quite thick. It is something of an acquired taste but when done well and in conjunction with a little lightening magic? Ah.
As I said, an acquired taste. The rods are for me, at least until the set I've commissioned in a larger size arrive. If you think it working well sounds distressful, imagine losing one of the rods mid fuck. That was an eventful Satinalia.
[ He crackles a soft laugh. ]
Ah, but there will be no breaking- well. No breaking we didn't agree on beforehand.
[ He almost asks if Zevran was given the word, too, but decides he doesn't need to know, and that just because they share something like this, doesn't mean they're entitled to it; nor does he want to say. Better to end that note on a slightly pained, but genuine laugh at the idea of sounding gone terribly wrong. ]
If he has your trust, then he has mine. Oh, and I left with him some brandy before I departed. You should have him share.
[ It's a little like permission. And a little like cowardice; he'd rather not be in some awkward position of privileged knowledge of sexual indiscretion that Bull does not have, nor does he want to be the one to bring it up. ]
[ It has been quite some time since he's been comfortable enough to discuss his lovers with someone else he has bedded, let alone either of them with the other. At least a decade at that and there's a twinge in the back of his mind he ignores.
This is nothing. Casual dalliances, pleasing diversions. And he is quite happy with it being so. ]
I might at that. Perhaps after he is finished fussing with me. Does he do that for you as well?
[ Dorian pauses over how to answer that. There aren't any ropes, wax, corsets, rods, after all. (Not yet, anyway, is his idle thought, turned around and idly examined like a smooth stone in his hands.)
He decides on; ]
It's a rather recent arrangement, really. And I'm habitually difficult to fuss over once the main event is finished with; I'm not one for clean up.
Mmm. Give him an opportunity to wring you out, and he might just.
[ Though that isn't quite right- describing that soft, safe, drifting place...it's difficult. And a bit more vulnerability than he's quite willing to share just yet, even if Dorian is a delightful lover. ]
You'll learn all manner of fascinating things in time, I'm certain.
[ It can't be overstated. He might die, out here, and everyone will weep, and regret they weren't nicer to him, didn't give him more gifts or compliment his hair, and so on. His reiteration of such is in good spirits. ]
As he's the reason I'm out here, he'd better fucking be.
[ And again, no actual anger, or dread, and it's a mild exaggeration, being equally invested in saving the world and all that. Alistair is alright, anyway, and can be trusted with certain things; like not getting Dorian killed, probably. ]
But you ought to run along, I think. Keeping him waiting doesn't net half the urgency you'd expect. [ Iron Bull's iron-clad patience has been an experience. ]
[ Not something he hands out easily or readily- favors. But for Alistair? There are few things he would not give to ensure his brother comes back in one piece. ]
Stay alive, mm? Skyhold will be terribly boring if you die.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ His tone is low and teasing, and he finds a place to sit, rough rock, dry warmth. Fine, so, he won't be getting laid so profoundly tonight, or for the next however long, but he's had longer dryspells. Clearly he's been spoiled, lately. ]
But perhaps that's what a little forward planning permits.
no subject
no subject
Please. Elaborate as compared to, say, wandering hands, spontaneous trysts never to be spoken of again, that sort of thing.
no subject
no subject
[ He swings his feet. His tone conveys as such. ]
It's the Tevinter way, to never speak of it again, sometimes not even to oneself. It isn't the Antiva way, I take it. Nor the Seheron way, I'm certain.
no subject
[ This is getting interesting. ]
Hardly. In Antiva we relish the memories of our lovers, be they for but a single fumbling hour or months.
no subject
Been ridden by, more like.
[ This ability to speak of these things come at small, personal costs. Little internal knife cuts of reflexive, conditioned anxiety. It's different, anyway, with people he trusts, or in Zevran's case, people he's had his mouth on. ]
If I don't die out here of gurns or dragons or Venatori or sand fleas, I'll have to think about it.
no subject
[ Ease comes through discussion, through exposure. For every shred Dorian shares? Zevran offers twice as much back to sooth whatever knotted bits of fear may linger.
It is only fair. ]
The offer is open to you as long as you like, to consider or to take as you wish.
no subject
[ An echo, of what Bull had promised (and delivered). It's been more than the day after and the day after that, by now, and rather than ruminate on how very far away he is, privately, he allows his sigh to be audible, exaggerated, as if saving the world were a terrible inconvenience to his sex life.
Well, it is, but, you know. It's also the world. ]
You'd have to explain to me what the rods are for, and I have a feeling I'd politely decline them.
no subject
[ The most pleasing of aches, those. Ones he'd been happy to carry about until they faded.
At the question he perks up a bit, brought out of his perusal of his memories. There is a sound like resonant steel, but softer, finer, as he draws one of the aforementioned rods against another. ]
Well...honestly this is something better shown than explained, I have diagrams from explaining it to Merrill, but there are more than two ways to penetrate a man. The rods are for the third, ranging from terribly thin for the untrained to quite thick. It is something of an acquired taste but when done well and in conjunction with a little lightening magic? Ah.
no subject
[ Going from wistful recollection to a theoretical defensive response concerning his junk is fairly jarring. Men and their dicks. ]
--somewhat traumatic. Don't break yourself before I get back -- or the Iron Bull, for that matter. I might yet have use for either of you.
[ He is teasing, more effortlessly than before. ]
no subject
[ He crackles a soft laugh. ]
Ah, but there will be no breaking- well. No breaking we didn't agree on beforehand.
no subject
If he has your trust, then he has mine. Oh, and I left with him some brandy before I departed. You should have him share.
[ It's a little like permission. And a little like cowardice; he'd rather not be in some awkward position of privileged knowledge of sexual indiscretion that Bull does not have, nor does he want to be the one to bring it up. ]
no subject
[ It has been quite some time since he's been comfortable enough to discuss his lovers with someone else he has bedded, let alone either of them with the other. At least a decade at that and there's a twinge in the back of his mind he ignores.
This is nothing. Casual dalliances, pleasing diversions. And he is quite happy with it being so. ]
I might at that. Perhaps after he is finished fussing with me. Does he do that for you as well?
no subject
He decides on; ]
It's a rather recent arrangement, really. And I'm habitually difficult to fuss over once the main event is finished with; I'm not one for clean up.
no subject
[ Though that isn't quite right- describing that soft, safe, drifting place...it's difficult. And a bit more vulnerability than he's quite willing to share just yet, even if Dorian is a delightful lover. ]
You'll learn all manner of fascinating things in time, I'm certain.
no subject
[ It can't be overstated. He might die, out here, and everyone will weep, and regret they weren't nicer to him, didn't give him more gifts or compliment his hair, and so on. His reiteration of such is in good spirits. ]
Then I'll learn other fascinating things.
no subject
[ As his now blind eye would attest. ]
He'll be happy to keep you alive.
no subject
[ And again, no actual anger, or dread, and it's a mild exaggeration, being equally invested in saving the world and all that. Alistair is alright, anyway, and can be trusted with certain things; like not getting Dorian killed, probably. ]
But you ought to run along, I think. Keeping him waiting doesn't net half the urgency you'd expect. [ Iron Bull's iron-clad patience has been an experience. ]
no subject
[ Not something he hands out easily or readily- favors. But for Alistair? There are few things he would not give to ensure his brother comes back in one piece. ]
Stay alive, mm? Skyhold will be terribly boring if you die.
no subject
[ Dorian couldn't agree more. ]
Aeternum vale.
no subject