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It had been cute at first; one of the various little quirks of Dorian’s that he was beginning to uncover and grow to love. The first time it happened had been after their first night together. Lavellan had only one plush pillow in his bed and when he had awoken Dorian had completely stole it as well as one from the couch. He had wondered how he could possibly manage to sleep at that angle. Sometime in the night he had been pulled against Dorian though and if losing a pillow meant it being replaced with a very warm and bare mage’s chest he found he really had no complaints.
The next time he noticed it was another first; when he realized the room had truly become theirs, and not just his. A steady migration of Dorian’s things over the past few weeks including books, clothes, and seemingly all the pillows he owned and then some. Lavellan remembered wondering if he had brought any with him when he left Tevinter. After the move to Skyhold Dorian didn’t seem to have any problem procuring a decent sized pile.
Lavellan collapsed onto their bed after a long and especially tiring trip to the Hinterlands. His work was never done it seemed and after chasing down rams all day for mutton and stooping to gather herbs up and down mountainsides his back was aching. Somehow, despite having nearly 14 now ( Lavellan had counted) there wasn’t a single pillow anywhere on the bed. He never used to use more than one but Dorian had spoiled him and he found he rather liked the plush ones. The offending mage was currently making tea for them in the fireplace. He did have his moments and falling into routines of domesticity was one them. Glancing around the room he spotted a heap surrounding the armchair.
" Now forgive me if I’m wrong" He started , catching Dorian’s eye and flashing him a weary smile " but isn’t the point of you having such a ridiculous amount of pillows so you don’t have to steal them all the time? " Dorian chuckled as he carried a cup over to Lavellan.
" Why you wound me , Amatus. I would never dream of depriving our dear overworked Inquisitor of such comforts. I haven’t the faintest idea how or why our pillows seem to re-arrange themselves around the room as they see fit " Dorian leaned down over Lavellan, moving to hand him his cup only to lift it over his head and instead swoop down to press a kiss to his lips. Lavellan smiled and pressed back against him, he had missed this. Dorian continued, " And I don’t think I have such a ridiculous amount, if I had a satisfactory amount you wouldn’t have to worry about not having any all the time”
" Of course because they wouldn’t feel the need to wander if they had more friends, is what you’re saying " Lavellan sighed , taking a drink.
" Indeed, though until that point I shall endeavour to do a better job at watching them " Dorian gathered up a stack from the floor and rearranged them under the elfs head, and running his fingers affectionately through his hair and down his cheek. Lavellan hummed in appreciation.
"This is why I love you so much, pillow thief "
" But they were mine to begin with you know…”
He really did love him, honest.