Chapter Text
“You know, I’m a lezzo, and this is still the best part of my day,” Ink said, shaking her head with a little sigh.
Krem watched as Gaspard’s boyfriend strode down the staircase, not a hair out of place, even at the end of the day. The man’s clothes were Orlesian couture, but with some asymmetry, to give them a Tevinter flair. He was wearing black and gold, his coat buttoned so you could only see a little of the crimson red shirt he was wearing.
He looked good, but Dorian had always looked good.
—
“Tell me this isn’t about screwing the guy who’s screwing your ex-husband,” Krem said.
“Well, not entirely,” Bull replied.
—
“What are you doing here?” Dorian asked.
The smile that had been on his face faded until it was as if it had never been there. Faded once Dorian saw Bull, because of Bull. Bull kept his own smirk front and center. It was easier than being honest.
“I’m out,” Bull said.
“Old news,” Dorian said, raising an eyebrow.
“Of prison. They said I’d paid my debt.”
“Tell that to our joint bank account,” Dorian replied.
“I can’t see your necklace, Kadan,” Bull said.
“I sold it,” Dorian said. “Now your other half is a collector of Qunari nick knacks.”
Bull laughed, and it was a small huff of a thing. Dorian was next to him, less than a foot away, for the first time in years, and he’d never felt more distant. He looked just as he had when they’d first met, handsome and stern, but Bull knew his tells better. There was still something there, small and hurting though it was, it was still there.
“Bull, you need to leave,” Dorian said, a little closer to worried than to firm.
“Because of Gaspard?” Bull asked.
“Bull…”
“You’re doing a wonderful job with his library, saw you got a hold of one of the first grimoires… You can really feel the terror coming off it.”
“What is this about, Bull?” Dorian asked.
“I came here for you,” Bull said. “I want to move on with my life, and I want to do it with you.”
“You’re a liar and a criminal,” Dorian said.
“I only lied about being a criminal, and I don’t do that anymore.”
“What, break the law?”
“Lie to you.”
“That’s not much of a distinction, Bull.”
“It is to me,” Bull said.
Dorian was silent.
“Listen, Dorian-”
“Katoh,” Dorian said, eyes shining.
Bull breathed in deep, and nodded. Then he left.
—
“Turn to channel eighty eight,” Skinner said, before hanging up.
She hadn’t given her name, but he’d known it was her. It had to be, since he’d seen all the rest of them loitering around corners and in alleys, for days.
He rolled his eyes and told himself he wasn’t going to take the bait. He wasn’t going to turn on his television and he wasn’t going to watch whatever insipid…
“If I told you I could get your money back, if you gave up Dorian, would you do it?” Bull asked.
The thing he would remember later would be the spark of hope he’d felt before Gaspard opened his mouth. The trust that had been so hard won…
“Yes,” Gaspard said.
It all turned to ashes in Dorian’s mouth.
Wasn’t that always the way?
—
Bull saw Dorian, one last time, as the police drove him away from the hotel. He’d been standing on the walkway, looking out into traffic. Looking so lost, just like he had when Bull went away the first time. He wasn’t slumped, but the proud line of his back had weakened. Defeated.
He did not look at Bull, if he noticed him at all.
—
“Most people lose weight in prison,” Krem said, when he came to pick him up.
“Most people don’t need more than two belts to keep their pants up,” Bull replied.
Krem snickered, patting Bull on the arm as they walked to Krem’s car. Bull took it in, a five door sedan that would still have some trouble fitting him.
“Got you a present,” Krem said, handing Bull an envelope.
Bull opened it and saw half a dragon’s tooth, and a note in Dorian’s writing. It was an address and one word, ‘maybe’.
“How’d you get this?” Bull asked.
“Ink got to him, called him Uncle Dorian and talked you up.”
“Huh,” Bull said. “So, how many people tailing you?”
“Maybe five.”
“Well, let’s go for a spin and see about getting rowdy,” Bull said.
Krem smiled, with all his teeth.
“Yes, Sir,” He said.