Work Text:
“Shit, are you bleeding?”
Krem looks up from where he's sprawled out on top of Dorian's sheets, wearing nothing but a loose shirt and his smallclothes The look of confusion is only on his face for a moment before the realization hits him and he's moving to stand up.
“Damn, I didn't even realize,” he starts, grabbing his pants from where he left them on the floor. “Sorry, I don't think any got on your nice linens.”
Dorian is speechless, though; frozen in the doorway with a look of confused horror on his face.
“Why in the world are you so calm about this?” he says, arms flailing slightly. “You're bleeding, and–and where is that blood even coming from?”
The room is incredibly silent for about five seconds until Krem ruins it, laughing as if he's just heard the world's funniest joke. It's only when he opens his eyes enough to see Dorian's face that he slows his laughter enough to breath, as Dorian's looking at him like he's been possessed.
“I'm sorry, Ri,” he says calmly, ignoring the glare Dorian shoots him. “It's just—I assumed you realized.”
“Realized what exactly?”
He's still standing by the door, now closed, but his expression has gone from looking scared to angry.
“Dorian, you know that I wasn't born as a man, right?” The question isn't really a question—he knows that Dorian is aware.
Dorian once again throws a glare in his direction, though it's lacking it's usual intensity.
“Yes, of course I know that. That doesn't explain why—wait.”
“There you go.”
“I didn't even think,” Dorian starts, sputtering a little. “I mean, I knew that physically you were different but it never occurred to me that you,” he lets the sentence hang unfinished.
Krem breathes out a laugh, amused by Dorian's wording. “Yes, I get my period. Once a month, and it's a real pain in the ass.” He pauses before adding, “Well, not literally in my ass, other places yes, but—”
“I've got it,” Dorian mutters. “Now, shouldn't you be dealing with that?”
Krem looks down, as if the situation at hand has potentially changed, and grumbles. “Right, I'll be back in a bit.”
Before he closes the door behind him Dorian thinks to stop him with a hand on his shoulder, turning him around and leaning in to steal a quick kiss before he runs off through Skyhold.
__
“Sorry again about that,” Krem says casually when he's back in Dorian's room, lying on his bed with the other man curled into his chest. “I'm usually able to tell before it happens and keep it to myself.”
Dorian hums tiredly before replying.
“It's not a big deal, honestly,” he says, voice earnest. “I just wasn't thinking and the sight of you bleeding had me slightly panicked.” After a moment he adds, “Anyway, its I who should apologize; that was incredibly ignorant of me.”
Krem's chest rumbles lightly with his laugh, his hand gently petting Dorian's hair.
“I'm not bothered,” he answers, voice going soft, with tiredness or possibly just because he's comfortable. “Besides, I won't lie—it was fun to see you squirm.”
Dorian raises the arm that isn't trapped against the other's body to hit him half heartedly in the chest. “You ass.”
Krem just laughs again, lulling Dorian again with the way he can feel it throughout his own body. It's a while before either of them speak again, and when Dorian does he isn't even sure if Krem is awake.
“Have you ever tried to do anything about it?”
The reply is slow but not because Krem is asleep, just dazed.
“About what?”
“About your period.”
Krem makes a face that half resembles a smirk but its lost on Dorian, his face still pressed into the other's chest.
“What exactly would I have tried?”
Dorian hesitates for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Trying to stop it, I mean. I don't know, experimental magic, perhaps. Although, I can't think of a reason for any mage to be attempting any magic of that sort.”
Krem just hums again, this time in thought.
“I don't think I need to get rid of it,” he replies finally. “I mean, not that it'll ever be of use to me—there's not a chance in hell I ever plan to give birth,”—the statement causes Dorian to laugh—“but it isn't much of a bother either. Like I said, I can normally tell when it's about to start, so being caught in my lover's bed with bloody smalls is honestly a situation I've never been in before.”
Dorian laughs again, this time the sound coming much lighter but fuller. Krem smiles, knowing that calling Dorian his lover has made him flush; he can feel it against the bit of bare skin he's touching.
“What about,” Dorian starts once he's calmed down, voice pensive. “Is there any way to make it easier yet? Perhaps, I don't know, making it so regardless of time you could always be wearing what's needed for when it happens.”
“Well, I'm fairly sure you've never needed anything of the sort, so I'll excuse you're ignorance,” Krem says, chuckling as Dorian scoffs,” but what's needed isn't exactly the most convenient to wear in day to day life.”
Thinking again for a moment, Dorian says, “What if I helped you design something better? More convenient.”
Krem considers this—it really hasn't troubled him up until this point, but the fact that Dorian is so concerned and is putting so much thought into helping him warms his heart. If the other wants to help that bad the least he can do is allow it.
“Sure, we can try that sometime.”
Dorian hums, satisfied with the answer. Minutes later, when he really isn't sure Krem is still awake due to his breathing evening out, he speaks up again.
“Krem.”
The reply he gets is no more than a short grunt.
“Does this mean no sex for a week?”
If the man was seconds away from sleep before, he isn't now, body absolutely shaking with laughter. The sound fills the room, and Dorian can hear it from deep in his chest, oddly unphased by the fact that he's being laughed at.
“Go the fuck to sleep, amatus.”
