Chapter Text
Lying next to Dorian Pavus would normally be something Bull would be down with. Even in the context of sharing a hotel room, which they were, as opposed to boning down, which they were not. Dorian was pretty, and he looked like the sort of person who would be flattered by someone else’s morning wood. Sharing a bed with Dorian was not an issue.
Sharing a bed with Dorian while there were three other people in the room, was.
“Night,” Dalish said.
“Bonne nuit,” Skinner said, snuggling into Dalish’s chest.
“Shut up,” Krem said, from the cot on the floor.
He’d drawn the short straw. He usually did. Krem wasn’t great at games of chance.
“Pleasant sleep,” Dorian said.
Dorian was curled up on his side, the line of his body visible under the thin hotel sheets. It was warm, so they’d pushed the cover down. Bull could see exactly how round Dorian’s ass was, and he wanted nothing more than to grab it with both hands, and do things to it.
“Good night,” Bull said.
Luckily there was absolutely no chance of Bull spooning Dorian in his sleep. Horns took care of that.
---
Bull could not sleep. Dorian clearly could not either, if his breathing was anything to go by. Bull hoped it was a case of fellow feeling, but it easily could’ve been in response to Skinner’s dreamy mutterings about murdering shems. Sounded like she was going off on ‘Vints, specifically.
Dorian sighed and turned over, the sheet dipping down so Bull could see his shoulders. They looked at each-other, but didn’t say anything. Bull saw Dorian open his mouth, only to close it again. He looked past Bull, to the Chargers.
Bull nodded, and waved his hand towards Dorian, indicating that he should get up. He rolled off the bed quietly, and Bull followed him slowly, so the bed wouldn’t squeak. Dorian was out the door, cardkey in hand, before Bull even had his feet on the floor.
“You alright?” Bull asked, once he joined Dorian in the corridor.
“Yes,” Dorian said. “I don’t know...”
He was looking fine, sleep-rumpled even though he hadn’t gotten a wink, pretty as a picture even in flannel pants and a tank top. Bull wasn’t even wearing a shirt. By the way Dorian’s eyes were darting about, he’d noticed.
“We can switch rooms, tomorrow,” Bull offered.
“No, I don’t want to inconvenience you,” Dorian said. “It’s not that I don’t want to be around you...”
He looked softer than he usually did. It might’ve been the clean face, or the drooping moustache, but it also could’ve been genuine vulnerability. Koslun damn it, Bull wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself. Dorian did look vulnerable.
“It’s kind of the opposite problem,” Dorian said.
“Oh,” Bull said. “Huh.”
“I don’t know if honesty is going to make this more or less awkward,” Dorian said.
“I wasn’t sleeping either,” Bull said.
“Oh,” Dorian replied.
They looked at each-other in the crappy yellow lighting that the hotel used in its halls. Bull could see Dorian’s nipples through his shirt. He followed the curves and lines of Dorian’s body. Dorian bit his lip.
“So,” Bull said. “Maybe we could talk this over, have a coffee.”
“It’s 1am,” Dorian said.
“There’s a 24 hour Nuggles down the street,” Bull said. “And I have the keys to the van.”
He held his index finger up and the spun them, to illustrate.
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They bought the coffee but they didn’t drink it.
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Turned out Templars would not ignore ‘don’t come knocking’ stickers, and they looked down on that sort of thing no matter how old you were.