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“I wish you’d pay more attention in battle, amatus,” Dorian was saying as he handed Nicos another healing potion. “Patching you up is getting a little old.”
Nicos sighed and reluctantly took the potion. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a little cut…and maybe a broken finger. Nothing serious.” He gently placed the now-empty potion bottle to the side and resumed cradling his injured hand. It was starting to feel better, but Dorian continued to glare at him, making him uneasy.
“Oh, sure. Nothing serious, he says! Last time it was a broken leg, the time before that you were out for three days! I don’t need to keep going, do I?” Dorian had taken to pacing furiously before him, arms gesturing wildly as he spoke. “Is it too much to ask that you take care of yourself?”
Nicos shook his head. He was fine, really. He was still alive, right? That’s what mattered. Sure, he’d had some close calls—a few too many close calls, if he was honest with himself—but he was okay. “Dorian, I’m not a child. You don’t need to watch out for me like a damn nanny!” he yelled, letting out a little frustration.
“I don’t do it for fun! I do it because I love you!” Dorian shouted and immediately paled, snapping his mouth shut and looking away.
Nicos felt his breath leave him. “You…oh…” He looked at the ground at his feet, feeling himself blush. “Shit…”
By the time he looked back up, Dorian had marched off, shoving past Varric and Bull and leaving them glaring in his wake. They looked back at Nicos who had apparently decided it was a good time to closely examine his possibly broken finger.
“So,” started Varric loudly as he came to sit by Nicos. “What’d you do this time?”
“Oh, that’s my fault? I didn’t do anything. That man-child,” Nicos replied, making the word loud enough to carry across the camp, “is the one with a problem.” He huffed, hoping the dwarf hadn’t actually heard his and Dorian’s…conversation. “He insists on babying me.”
“Mmhmm, right,” Varric replied skeptically. “That’s why he practically ran off after declaring his love, right? How very man-childish of him.”
Nicos hung his head. “Ugh, don’t start. Please.”
“What? What did you say to him?” Varric’s voice was now low enough that only the two of them could hear.
Sighing heavily, Nicos replied, “I said…shit.”
Varric chuckled loudly. “Kid, you are really bad at this.”
“I panicked, okay! That was…it was the last thing I expected to hear. I’m not…I know I’m not good at this stuff…” he trailed off, wishing silently that he could just have a minute alone for once.
“You need to go talk to him before he does something stupid,” Varric warned though his tone was light.
Nicos groaned and Varric chuckled again, patting the younger man’s knee before leaving him.
He didn’t want to talk to Dorian. He didn’t want to face a hurt, accusing Dorian… It wasn’t that he didn’t love him back; Nicos really loved him back. Neither man was anywhere near used to the prospect of more in a relationship, and when it came to these declarations…Nicos froze. He didn’t want to get attached, not again.
And knowing Dorian, the man had panicked at Nicos’s reaction and he would be hurt…of course he’d be hurt. He’d begun to open himself up more for Nicos and to have his admission, however accidental, shut down right in front of him…shit.
Finally, Nicos rose and made his way to find the mage, hoping he wouldn’t be on the receiving end of a fireball when he found him. Luckily, Dorian was simply sitting near the small creek just downhill of their campsite. Nicos cleared his throat loudly to announce his presence.
Dorian tensed, but otherwise didn’t respond. A frown began to form on Nicos’s face.
“Can I sit here?” he asked tentatively.
Dorian shrugged. “Who am I to deny the Inquisitor?”
“Oh, don’t start,” Nicos chided. “It makes apologizing hard when you do that.” As he sat, he watched Dorian scoot away from him a bit. How very mature, Nicos thought. “Dorian, look…”
“No need to apologize. I’m the one who should be sorry. Clearly, I’ve been too open in this…whatever we have going on,” Dorian interrupted.
Of course he’d be hurt. “That’s not true. I rather like what we have going on, if you don’t mind me saying. And…I’m sorry for my reaction. I just…”
Dorian sighed and finally looked at him. “Look, you don’t have to say it back. I didn’t mean to say it anyway.”
Nicos looked at him, prodding for clarification. “You didn’t mean to say it or you didn’t mean it?”
If Dorian could shrink further into himself, Nicos was sure he’d disappear. “I meant it—I mean it. If that’s not how you feel, tell me now and I’ll be on my way. I’d rather get all the hurt out at once.”
“Dorian, I do feel that way. I didn’t come here to end things or whatever…it kind of hurts that you think I did, honestly. If you want to hear it, then—”
“No, don’t. Don’t say it unless you’re ready…unless you really mean it.”
“Will you let me finish a damn sentence? I love you, Dorian. I love you and nothing you can say will change that.” He’d finished his statement quickly in the hopes of hiding how his voice was growing thick and swallowed against the tightness in his chest.
Dorian smiled, laughing lightly. “I’m a fool…” he said quietly.
A broad smile stretched across Nicos’s face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”
Dorian shook his head and glared, smacking him lightly. “I was about to wonder what I did to deserve you, but now I know I’m just being punished,” he joked. “Now, will you let me look at your hand?”
Nicos shook his head defiantly. “It’s fine.”
“No, we are not doing this again,” Dorian said and he grabbed Nicos’s injured hand a little more roughly than necessary and Nicos yelped in pain. “Good, I hope it hurts. Maybe it’ll teach you to be more careful next time.”
Nicos groaned childishly and rolled his eyes. “Yes, mother.”