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Lavellan could practically smell Dorian's confusion, curled up so close, naked skin to naked skin without sleeping or talking or that, but the mage was staying quiet. Lavellan was stupidly, ridiculously grateful for it, pressing his nose to Dorian's shoulder and breathing in his ever-present scent of spices and oil and male musk, with that warm, sparkling trace of the Fade in the background. He pressed his ear to Dorian's chest, closing his eyes to listen better to the even sound of his breathing and the steady sound of his heartbeat, grounding him. Proof they were both here.
"What's this about, amatus?" Dorian breathed, and Lavellan sighed softly. It was too much to hope that he couldn't just stay quiet and let him luxuriate.
Lavellan shook his head against his chest. "Nothing really," he said softly, curling closer.
He didn't need to see him to know he was raising his eyebrow. "Really..." the mage drawled, and made a movement as if to get up.
Intellectually Lavellan knew perfectly well that he wasn't trying to leave. Rationally Lavellan knew he had no right to hold him if he did want to leave. But instinct didn't listen to these things, and before he could think he was tangling himself around Dorian like a vine around a tree.
Dorian went very, very still.
Lavellan flushed, actions finally catching up to his brain. "Sorry, sorry," he muttered, trying to untangle himself, but Dorian grabbed onto him and Lavellan froze.
"My, so changeable amatus," Dorian mocked lightly, eyebrows furrowed with concern as he looked Lavellan over. Lavellan huffed, but waited.
He knew when Dorian found what he was looking for, his eyes softening as he rolled him over into the soft bedsheets. Despite that his voice was sharp and irritated. "Amatus."
"Whatever you're thinking is wrong," Lavellan said immediately, tension coiling through his back.
"You said you approved." His voice was on the edge of accusing, with an unhappy sound behind it.
Or maybe not wrong. "I'm sure I did," Lavellan said slowly, desperately praying that Dorian was on the wrong track. "Could you tell me what exactly I approved of?"
Dorian's eyes were unnaturally serious. "Me going to Tevinter."
Fenedhis.
"I do."
Dorian snorted, and Lavellan absently wondered how he managed to attractively snort.
"Oh yes. I hadn't realised that desperately grabbing onto your lover - when he's not even trying to leave, I might add - was an expression of approval with regard to his leaving." The sarcasm was almost biting.
Lavellan winced, but met his gaze squarely. "I approve of what you want to do, believe me," he said, sincerity filling every word. "I believe it's the right thing to do. I just..." he sighed, trailing a hand absently down the length of the mage's back. "Ma'lath, I'll miss you."
Close as they were, Lavellan felt the shiver run down Dorian's spine, but his voice remained light. Lavellan didn't like the insecure undertone. "Why, of course you'd miss my handsome face and my amazing dress sense. Not to mention my-"
"Dorian," Lavellan interrupted firmly. "Ma vhenan, I'm not with you because you're pretty, though you most certainly are you vain creature," his voice drifted off fondly. "I'm with you because I like you, because I - love," he forced himself to say it, to not hide behind elvish words, "you for you, dress sense and vanity and magic and all, even when you set the bed on fire."
"I only did that once," the mage protested, and Lavellan laughed, pressing his face into Dorian's neck in an attempt to muffle it.
"Oh no you don't," Dorian said firmly, tugging his head back up, "No hiding your laughter, you do that far too little."
Lavellan nipped his fingers lightly in vengeance, feeling pleased with himself. When he recognised the way Dorian coloured at that though, the shift in breathing, he flushed as well. "Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean- I'm not..."
"Stop apologising, amatus," Dorian said firmly, an odd smile playing around his lips. "We worked this out ages ago." Then he laughed softly. "You have absolutely no idea how often I had to find a private place after a talk with you, do you?"
Lavellan couldn't help the rush of warm pride at that, despite the fact he wasn't interested in taking advantage of it right now. "How about you tell me all about it tomorrow?" he said, letting his voice smooth out darkly. "I'm sure I'll be interested then."
He watched the way Dorian's breathing stuttered and his pupils dilated with interest; he didn't need to be interested in sex to enjoy how he could get his lover to respond.
Which, actually... might be something they could explore some time. He hadn't thought of it that way before.
But right now that wasn't on the table, and he kissed Dorian chastely as he soothingly ran a hand down his side, before twisting so his back was to Dorian's chest. "We're fine, Dorian," he said softly into the dark. Dorian didn't answer, but he pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. Lavellan relaxed.