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It was not - when it came down to it - entirely on purpose. Dorian certainly didn't think that he was missing anything - and he was fairly sure that Bull didn't either. It wasn't even supposed to happen more than once. If it happened at all. Really, it was supposed to be a passing fancy. Dorian had gone to see Bull after a game of chess, one in which Cullen had somehow managed the most ridiculous gambit Dorian had ever seen, and he'd been fuming. Perhaps also a sore loser. Not that he minded being one; gloating was one of Dorian's favourite pastimes, and being denied the opportunity made him tetchy. Bull had been laughing at him. Bull always laughed, because Bull didn't appreciate chess; he said it took all the bloody fun parts out of the battle and kept all the boring bits. This particular time he'd been shaking his head and chuckling as he patiently unbuckled all the straps down Dorian's side. (Dorian had long since perfected the art of bitching during sex, Bull had long since mastered the art of making him shut up when he really wanted to).
"The way you carry on about all this," he said, pressing a kiss to Dorian's ribs, "You'd think it it was foreplay."
Dorian had to pause in his tirade to think about it. "You know for some people it probably is."
"The commander's probably the type," Bull said, feeding the very last tongue through the very last buckle. "He has to have something to work up to."
"Hum," Dorian said.
That train of conversation had continued for, perhaps, longer than it should have, until it had actually gotten to the logistics of the whole thing. Which was back to laughable, at least to Dorian. Bull had spent the whole time speaking like it was completely possible.
"You are not," Dorian had snickered, "Going to go up to the commander of the inquisition, and ask if he'd like to have a threesome."
"Well, I could," Bull said. "If you wanted to."
And Dorian had. So Bull had.
And Cullen had gone a full minute of sputtering without managing to get out more than two consecutive words, excused himself, and come back two days later with flaming red cheeks and a question.
"If we- I just wanted- how would it work?"
Bull took charge of explaining; Dorian was really better at adding witty commentary than helpful comments. Which, though it sent his flush deeper than ever, interestingly didn't scare Cullen off.
He even came back. Sometimes he even stuck around for a while.
"I feel like we're corrupting you," Dorian had said one such time, stretched out between them, relaxed enough to stop moving but not enough to not talk. "It's really rather fun."
Cullen had snorted, rather dismissively for someone who still flushed all the way down to his navel every time he got naked in front of them. "You're not doing a very good job of it," he said. Before blinking, and apparently reconsidering. "Not to say this is bad- what I meant to say, is that-stop snickering. Bull says dirtier things in the tavern than he's ever said to me in here. Everyone in Skyhold knows what he's into."
"Subtlety isn't my strong point," Bull said agreeably, thumb rubbing pleasantly across Dorian's sternum.
"Well, that's Bull," Dorian retorted. "He's not the only one here."
Cullen gave him a pinning stare, and with a poise seldom seen from him outside professional contexts said, "Dorian, anyone could take one look at the things you wear every day, and know what you're into."
Bull started to laugh, and Dorian narrowed his eyes, poking Cullen in the side firmly enough to make him squirm.
"Maybe we're just working you up to it, did you ever thing of that?" He looked at Bull, "Right, Amatus?"
Bull nodded, still laughing, "Of course, Kadan."
Dorian looked back at Cullen, meaning to give him the type of challenging stare that they usually shared with a chessboard between them, but was stopped short by the soft, almost pained expression on Cullen's face. Then it was gone, and Cullen shifted onto his back with a cough. "Well, I'll look forward to seeing what you try and push me into."
It was surprising enough that it kept happening, an odd undefined area where Cullen kept coming to them, and they didn't talk about what any of them wanted unless it involved skin on skin. It was more surprising that Bull was the one who has to be convinced by Dorian and Cullen to bring rope into it, though Dorian realised later that it should've been a hint. They'd only been going fifteen minutes, and it had been nice, if a little cautious. Then Cullen, distracted, had tried to move, realised he couldn't and panicked. Bull had him cut free in what felt like seconds, but it had taken a half hour before Cullen's heartbeat had felt normal through his ribs, and it took all of Dorian's social graces to talk him through the embarrassment after he'd calmed down. He'd almost left, though to be fair it had been Bull who'd gotten him to stay, tucking him in the middle of them with a grumbled, "If you don't sleep here I don't get to grope you in the morning."
So, he'd stayed until morning, and then in a much more distressing action he'd stayed away. He hadn't even come to play chess in weeks.
"No one else is even close to a worthy opponent," Dorian grumbled, in the tavern, sitting sideways on the bench with his legs thrown over Bull's lap. He wasn't even properly drunk yet, just nearing the end of his first tankard. Moderately tipsy maybe. "Our dear inquisitor is fine, obviously, but she's also hardly ever actually here. Aside from that it's just Cullen, and I should've known he was the type to piss off and pretend to be busy right when things got interesting."
Bull matched the swig he took, tankard not covering the curl of his lips.
Dorian scowled. "Yes, I know, I'm not just upset about the chess, I'm not quite as much of an idiot as some people like to imply."
"Of course not," Bull said, scooping an arm around Dorian's waist and pulling him onto his lap proper. "The commander's thinking, it's what he does. If he overdoes it we'll send you after him, how about that?"
Dorian sighed, and leaned into Bull's shoulder. "Fine."
And then he made a rather convincing argument, if he could say so himself, about how neither of them actually needed to wait to know whether or not Cullen would overthink something. Which was, at least, countered by Bull saying that if they tried to talk to him after drinking, he'd take the alcohol as an automatic reason to dismiss whatever they said. Which was depressingly accurate, so Dorian, with a huff, said, 'Fine. Tomorrow."
Cullen, when he saw them, ducked his head and set down the quill he'd been using. "Hello," he said, valiantly managing to sound unconcerned though the struggle was still easy to see. "I'm sorry, I know I've hardly been around lately. There's just- new recruits, and we've had this whole negotiation with troops from Starkhaven, and-" His eyes tracked around following as Dorian - with an acknowledging hum - closed each of the doors to his office. "and I'm still coordinating help for the refugees in the hinterlands, I..." He trailed off, sighing, and starting to lose the battle with the misery on his face. "I'm sorry, I've been a coward. This was no way to do this."
Dorian raised both eyebrows, reminded himself that annoyance came before sympathy, and said, archly, "And, pray tell, what were you attempting to do."
Cullen shook his head avoiding his gaze. "Look, for all- everything people say about you two, how crass you can-" he broke off and huffed. "I'm sorry, that didn't come out right." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, with enough energy that a few pieces started sticking out at odd angle. Dorian guessed pointing it out would ruin the mood. "You two have something between you, something real. I wouldn't want to come between- not that I thought I was coming between you at all- this isn't-" He broke off again, slumping back into his chairs, a frown deepening the crease between his eyebrows.
Dorian raised and eyebrow a Bull, who was watching the whole scene with an implacably fond expression. Clearly he wasn't going to be any help at all. So he stepped carefully and deliberately around the desk, until he could perch on the arm of Cullen's chair, hip gently pressing against his arm. "I agree, what we have is quite nice," he said. "But I fail to see what this has to do with you avoiding us."
"Only that I've had experience before with things that are close but untouchable," Cullen said, quietly. "I- I'm grateful for what we did share, and I can only hope that if I do find someone, I can have something similar to what you have. But I would not- The more time I spent with you the more I wanted what I could not have. It was starting to feel a little like self flagellation."
Bull snorted. Dorian looked at the ceiling to attempt to hide the fact that he was rolling his eyes. "And here I thought that's what all you chantry folk were into." He couldn't help a brief pass of his hand over Cullen's hair, though he told himself it was just to smooth the mussed up bits into place. "I do hope you realise what an idiot you're being, though." He looked at Bull, who caught his eye, and started to move to the other side of Cullen's chair. "Stop thinking about how much you'd like to have a relationship like ours. Come join us and have it."
Cullen looked up, glancing between them. "You mean- I really didn't think-"
"Stop talking, commander," Bull advised. "Are any of those excuses you're thinking of going to make you feel better?"
"Well, no," Cullen started.
Dorian kissed him on the temple, and Bull's hand covered his own in the fur of Cullen's coat.
Maybe none of it was on purpose, but that didn't mean it hadn't worked out alright.