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"No."
Mahanon raised an eyebrow. "You won't?"
Dorian opened his mouth as though to speak, and then closed it again, pressing his lips together into a line that curved into a smile. "That's not what I meant, amatus. Here, come up." He held his hands out to the elven Inquisitor, and Mahanon took them, allowing Dorian to help him up from bended knee.
"You've beaten me to it," Dorian confessed, caressing his thumb against the back of Mahanon's hand. "It isn't fair, amatus. I was going to ask you with all the pomp and circumstance that I could manage to gleam from our clandestine meetings here in Minrathous."
"Really?"
"Don't question me with that tone, I would have had a lavish proposal complete with flowers and bells and a golden halla, if you desired it." Mahanon snorted, but Dorian spoke over him. "And you've gone and beat me to it! How am I supposed to lavish you in a beautiful proposal when you proposed first?"
"I think," Mahanon said, looping his arms around Dorian's neck, "agreeing to marry me might be a good start."
Only a slightly sullen huff came from the magister's direction.
"Are you pouting on me, Dorian Pavus?"
"Never. It isn't a good look on me."
"I don't know." The elf pecked a kiss against tanned skin. "I don't mind it." He pulled away slightly to look at him. "Are you going to make me ask again?"
"Mm." Dorian's hands fell to Mahanon's hips, sliding up to clasp into the small of his back. "I don't know. I could make you beg," he said contemplatively, pressing a kiss to his hairline.
"Dorian."
Dorian chuckled softly. "Very well. Of course I'll marry you, amatus."
Mahanon would have pretended to be put out by his teasing, if only the kiss that followed wasn't soft, and slow, and sweet, and spoke of everything that Dorian said he would have planned for the proposal, but in the kiss rather than actions, or words.
"Ar lath ma, vhenan."
"And I love you." Dorian rest his forehead against Mahanon's gently, lips curving into the usual smirk. "But you'll let me plan the wedding, amatus. You got the proposal, I'll handle the wedding."
"Oh, no. All of Thedas will know!"
"You should be shown off to world. But first." The gleam in the magister's eye took on a different shine, the kind that was only ever reserved for when Dorian was thinking something devilish. "I know someone you should be shown off to. Immediately."
Mahanon could feign innocence just as easily as the next person. "Really? Who's that?"
Dorian grinned, pushing him back against the desk. "Me."