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Cullen makes a routine of being in the courtyard when the Inquisitor returns and Dorian is with the party. That isn't to say he does not greet her just as warmly as he greets the others, welcoming them back to what has slowly become a home to all of them. Everyone is, however, well aware that he is eagerly there to greet Dorian. A cinnamon stick under a pillow only does so much to ease Cullen's despondency at Dorian's absence, it is nothing to the warm body that hurries to greet him just as eagerly.
Cold lips press to his and tension Cullen hadn't known he was carrying eases out of him. There is no scent of cinnamon, too long from his fancy soaps for it to linger still, but it is still Dorian and Cullen kisses back- just a peck for all the disgusted noises Sera makes before stalking off.
"I brought back a present!" Dorian beams, cutting straight past tedious small talk and gesturing to a very round, very firm bulge under his cloak. The first thing Cullen thinks is 'pregnant' and while he almost faints at the notion, he mentally berates himself. Sleeplessness is an excuse up to a point, and indeed he does not sleep well without Dorian to ease the nightmares, but even that first thought is too idiotic to be excused.
Dorian waits for no questions as he pulls back his cloak, opens his bag and hurriedly holds out a large, imperfectly spherical... thing. Cullen frowns at its striped green surface and supposes it a fruit or a vegetable.
Dorian chuckles, "Cullen, darling, you're so Fereldan it hurts." A quick kiss to his cheek at the fond criticism that Cullen pays no mind, instead curiously running his fingers over the item.
"What is it?"
"It's a watermelon." Dorian explains, not at all patronising in his tone. He never is when he explains to Cullen, understanding that Cullen's intelligence is not the problem so much as his worldliness. "Its a fruit. It requires a lot warmer weather than so far South cares to give, so I am not surprised you haven't had one. There appeal is how refreshing they are, something you perhaps do not need with the cold either." Dorian muses before hefting the large fruit again. "But! Our dear, sweet Lavellan knows how to pull strings and when one knows what one is looking for, it is easy to find one just the right shade of ripe to survive a long journey."
Cullen chuckles again. "You... you carted that fruit all the way back here? Why on Thedas would you do that? It does not look light..."
Dorian frowns at the offending fruit. "It isn't. It's cumbersome and bothersome. However, I knew you had not tried one and I thought you might like it." Dorian gives Cullen a soft smile that has the Commander blushing at the thought, before adding. "Besides, I know the best way to enjoy one of these."
Cullen flushes scarlet instantly and even standing still he manages to shuffle awkwardly enough to trip and rub at his neck. "I-! Oh! I h-hadn't... o-okay...?"
The mage gives him a fond pinch on his flushed cheek. "What a delight, your mind so readily dived into the gutter with that. I'm rubbing off in you in more ways than one it seems." Cullen frowns and Dorian kisses his down turned mouth. "No, darling, at least not this time. Perhaps next time we can explore that." He pats the top of the watermelon and Cullen notices there's been a small part cut out and then replaced.
"What did you do to it?" He asks curiously, already falling into step with Dorian as the mage leads the way to Cullen's office.
"Relax, Commander, I assure you it shan't turn you into a toad or something else unsavoury."
"If that were the extent of your depravity, I'd be reassured." Cullen remarks drily and Dorian's laughter echoes as they enter Cullen's office, warmth and humour filling the dark, oppressive weight of it. He breathes life into the room with his presence and Cullen's smiling, relieved and calm, at Dorian as the mage drops his bags wherever they fall. He settles in and it's as though he never left, like lighting the fire the colour has come back into the room.
Dorian tosses his cloak to one of the most recently two armchairs near the bookcase, shaking it off as if he could do the same to the cold. Cullen stands close, shoulders touching to offer warmth, as Dorian places the watermelon down on the desk with care.
"In answer to your previous, and delightfully suspicious, question, I poured an entire bottle of the strongest spirit I could buy into the watermelon. It takes a good long while for it to soak in. About a day. However, now, it should be a wondefully refreshing, sweet treat that has the charming side effect of being very alcoholic." Dorian gestures to himself. "Am I not a genius?"
Cullen leans over the fruit. "I'd challenge your claim you invented this, however this is so very 'Dorian' that I can't say I doubt you."
"Flatterer." Dorian cooes. "Now, give me a dagger."
Cullen only raises an eyebrow as he obeys, a dagger from his belt sliding into Dorian's palm as the mage readily butchers into the rind. It takes far more force than Cullen would have thought to rend the fruit apart but Dorian succeeding in two brutal shoves of his arm. The two halves slide onto their backs and rock as Dorian grabs one, slices it apart and then the other. There are four quarters of this strange fruit rocking on Cullen's desk, thankfully clear for once as there is juice and presumably alcohol pooling under the pieces.
"Dig in!" Dorian says brightly, already lifitng a piece and offering it to Cullen.
Cullen follows Dorian's lead, cocking his head curiously as the mage bites into the soft pink inner flesh of the fruit. It spills down Dorian's chin and the man doesn't seem to care at all. So Cullen does likewise. The taste of the fruit is soft and light, an earthy sweetness to it that Cullen barely registers before the biting after burn of the alcohol hits. He coughs and Dorian thumps his back with a laugh, eyes sparkling at Cullen's expense, and Cullen isn't sure he wants to ask just what sort if garden shed monstrosity he is drinking.
But it is good, and Cullen adjusts to the kick of alcohol. The more he has, the braver he feels- as is always the way.
He watchea Dorian bite down into his second slice and Cullen doesn't hesitate this time. He does not debate and agonise over what he would like to do, this time Cullen grabs Dorian. He pulls him in and shamelessly licks the spill of juice from Dorian's chin. Dorian snickers approvingly, hands stilling holding the slice of fruit as Cullen's mouth chases down his jaw, following his throat and studiously lapping up every drop while Dorian squirms at the tickle of his tongue and stubble.
Cullen vaguely registers how itchy his throat is starting to feel, more focused on kissing his way to Dorian's mouth. He feels flushed warm all over already, skin prickling in his armour but Dorian is already working in the buckles.
The barely break for breath as Cullen presses Dorian against the desk, hips pressed tight to Dorian's to keep him there- like Dorian would leave right now. His hips rock against Cullen's, leg sliding between so they both can move against one another as lust and alcohol hurries their hands.
For all Dorian's mess of belts and buckles, his shirt still comes off easier than Cullen's breastplate. This doesn't deter Dorian in any way, fingers scrabbling over catches until they can press skin against skin, Cullen morning into Dorian's mouth as the mage's deft fingers press over his shoulders and down, under his arms to dig nails into his back. Not hard, just a press, urging for more. Cullen is eager to oblige, cock hard in his pants and feeling Dorian likewise. They've been too long apart and Cullen wants him now, the fogginess of his head and itching of his throat too minor a concern when Dorian moans into his mouth.
When they break apart for air, Cullen is breathing as laboured as if he had run a mile. Dorian's lust clears at the odd sound of Cullen's far too ragged breath. Even with the alcohol and the kissing Cullen shouldn't be gasping that hard. He blinks at Cullen and focuses, hands moving over Cullen's skin in concern. "Cullen?" He says softly, eyes widening as he takes in Cullen's face. "Maker! Cullen! Your face... you're mouth is swollen!" There's no reason for Cullen's mouth to be the size it is, lips tender and pink where they have bulged. Dorian traces fingers over it and Cullen grumbles that it hurts.
Cullen's breath is wheezing now and Dorian can see his confusion at what is happening, but he doesn't even seem to be able to ask as he muzzily slurs something and pats at gis dry throat.
"Oh, Cullen..." Dorian breathes, lifting Cullen up so he can help him to what Dorian affectionately refers to as 'Cullen's chair'. "Easy, amatus, rest here. I think you may be allergic to watermelon, I am going to fetch a healer. Just wait here one moment, I won't be gone long." Dorian pulls on the nearest shirt- one of Cullen's, not that either cares. "Here, amatus. Keep your head tilted up. I have to hurry but keep breathing deep." Dorian darts to the door and Cullen watches him go with rising panic.
Dorian is not gone long and the healer eases the worst of Cullen's reaction with a few potions. Dorian hovers nervously and curses that he could practically reattach Cullen's limbs if he needed but he knew little about allergic reactions such as this.
"So..." Cullen murmurs sheepishly when they're curled into bed later. "That killed the mood quite effectively."
Dorian scoffs into Cullens hair, tucking the Commander more under his chin. "Forgive me if after almost watching you suffocate, my cock just isn't 'up' for it." Cullen grumbles into Dorian's neck, shifting closer and embarrassed over something Dorian has given up reassuring him is not his fault. "Hush, Cullen. It can't be helped and now we know; no watermelon for you."
Cullen is silent a long moment, long enough that Dorian thinks him asleep, before there's a soft kiss pressed to his neck. "Welcome home, Dorian."
Dorian squeezes him gently. "It is good to be home."