Dorian stomped up the stairs, muttering under his breath. Of course no one in this blighted castle would give him enough peace and quiet to study. If it wasn’t the constant bother of apprentices and Inquisition scouts running amok, it was the constant ruckus of ravens in the rookery above. And don’t get him started on Solas. It was enough to make him grit his teeth and he decided it was time for a much needed reprieve.
Inquisitor Ilya’s chambers were always quiet and the lad had made sure to stock Dorian’s favorite wine for cases such as these. Dorian was thankful his friend was so accommodating as to let him use his quarters regardless if he was there or not. He still wasn’t sure just what he’d done to earn such a friendship, but he wasn’t about to let it wither away. He had so few true friends after all.
Dorian was so far in his head he didn’t hear the moans until he was at the top of the steps, hand frozen on the stone railing and taking in the view across the bed.
The Iron Bull sat in the middle of the bed with his hands roughly on the Inquisitor’s hips, dragging Ilya up and down along Bull’s hard cock. Ilya’s back lay against Bull’s chest and his wrists were bound to Iron Bull’s horns, a ball gag stretching his lips. Light glittered off the silver nipple clamps joined by a chain across Ilya’s chest. His skin was rosy and body drawn taut as it sucked in Bull’s cock.
“Oh, hey, Dorian,” Iron Bull greeted nonchalantly. “Came up to study?”
“I, uh, kaffas.”
Well, this certainly wasn’t how Dorian imagined the day to go.
Iron Bull trailed a hand up Ilya’s ribs to tweak a nipple and his body vibrated in pleasure.
Dorian’s gaze jerked back to Bull’s face as he squawked, “What?!”
“Yeah! It’ll be fun. What do you think, Ilya? Would you be ok with Dorian joining us?” He ran a hand soothing down Ilya’s body.
The Inquisitor opened his eyes for the first time and took Dorian in with a gaze hungry with desire and nodded.
Dorian’s breath caught in his throat.
He fell asleep drunk in the library again, no doubt. Surely this wasn’t his life.
“It’s ok.” Bull pulled him from his thoughts. “Ilya and I have discussed this before. If you want to join, there are a few rules. You follow my lead and we always check in on each other. We’ll never do anything you don’t want to do.”
All Dorian could do was stare at them, painfully aware he was getting hard from the sight before him let alone the sounds of skin on skin because of course Bull would casually talk about this while still pounding the Inquisitor down on his cock.
“Or you don’t have to. No hard feelings, no need to explain yourself,” Iron Bull continued. “You can stay up here, if you want, but we’re gonna be a while.”
There was a challenge in Bull’s eye if Dorian ever saw one and there was a part of him that was too stubborn and prideful to walk back down the stairs to the library and the madhouse that it was today. Dorian straightened his back and strode over to the Inquisitor’s desk and laid his books and parchment across it, giving them one last pointed look before sitting in silence.
“Suit yourself,” Bull shrugged and pulled Ilya up particularly slowly.
Ilya moaned and closed his eyes again, head lolling back onto Iron Bull’s shoulder.
“Offer’s still open if you want it.”
And with that Iron Bull’s attention went back to Ilya, running his hands across the man’s body and pulling pleasure from each stroke of pale flesh until the Inquisitor was a shaking, moaning mess.
Right. Equations. That’s what Dorian was working on, right?
He shifted his legs, trying for a comfortable position in the cushioned chair as he flipped to the next page and scribbled some notes on a sheet of parchment. The scratch of the quill mixed lightly with the heavy breaths across the room and Bull’s soft murmurs of encouragement.
Dorian never would have guessed the quiet mannered Ilya was so kinky or loud during sex, but here was the proof before his very eyes. Proof he was very much trying to ignore and largely failing.
“Check in,” Bull said softly and Dorian glanced over at their pause.
Ilya snapped twice and Bull nodded, kissing his shoulder gently.
Iron Bull shifted them slightly and when he began again Ilya practically mewled, cock twitching against his thigh.
“Hmm, like the change, do you?” Bull pulled him down across another slow glide and Ilya’s taut thighs flexed.
Dorian swallowed and looked away.
Ok, carry the two over here…
Ilya’s half-scream was muffled behind the gag and Bull growled something low as he thrust up.
Dorian adjusted himself in his trousers, eyes closing at the brief contact. His body wanted more, veins alight, and cock painfully hard against him.
Bull’s gaze fell on him, burning and dark, over Ilya’s shoulder. It was almost knowing as Dorian met the gaze. Dorian’s eyes never left him as Bull ran a hand over Ilya’s inner thigh, close to wear Ilya clearly wanted to be touched judging by how his arms strained against the ribbons around his wrists.
What did the man feel like under the Qunari’s palm, Dorian wondered. How soft was each scar and muscle?
Dorian’s eyes ran appraisingly down Ilya’s body, over each straining muscle, every shuddered breath. Ilya was beautiful. Had been to him from day one. But this…This was something else he’d never expected to see.
The archer was graceful in his flexing body, limber in his arched bend. Dorian would be a lying man if he said he hadn’t thought about the Inquisitor like this before, all stretched out and begging. He’d never thought quite to this extent of kink before, but he liked what he saw as Bull very deliberately displayed his lover between them.
Iron Bull crooked a finger at him and the last of Dorian’s willpower crumbled.
He stood abruptly and strode around the desk. Ilya lifted his eyes toward him, watching every movement as Dorian tugged at the belts of his tunic and slipping gracefully from his clothes.
“You’re doing so well,” Iron Bull murmured in Ilya’s ear, “So good for me, for us. Look at how hard you made him.”
Ilya’s eyes were glazed over with pleasure and want as he took Dorian in.
“So beautiful,” Bull said softly into Ilya’s shoulder.
Ilya shuddered and mewled and Dorian took a hold of his own cock, stroking it in relief.
“You’re so obscene, Inquisitor,” he said, voice thick with desire.
The sheets were silken under his knees as Dorian crawled onto the bed, sitting back on his heels in front of them.
Iron Bull’s eye on him felt like a hot brand and Dorian preened in it. He knew he looked good. Traipsing across the wilderness with the Inner Circle certainly wasn’t wasting him away.
Bull watched him as he turned his lips to Ilya’s ear again. “Do you want his cock in you, too? Fill you up nice and good. You’ll be nice and loose for him to take you.”
Ilya’s breath was coming fast as he nodded weakly, Dorian’s mouth went dry.
Oh yes, Dorian could very much go for that.
“Hmmm, I wonder if you could take both of our cocks.”
Ilya bore down harder and nodded his head fervently. Bull shuddered and his eye darkened further, a low growl in his throat.
Dorian licked his lips as he reached out and brushed a finger over one of Ilya’s pert nipples. “Is that what you want? For both of us to fuck you open.”
He could practically hear the yes moaned through the gag, Ilya’s stomach trembling.
Dorian tsked and gripped Ilya’s cock tightly at the base as the Inquisitor cried out. “None of that just yet.”
Ilya screamed and arched beautifully, body writhing as he came dry, pressure too great at his root. Tears streaked from the corners of his eyes as he shook bodily.
“Check in,” Bull grunted.
Ilya lay limp against Bull’s chest, a sob choked by the gag.
“Hey,” Bull soothed as he ran hands gently along Ilya’s body. “We can stop if you need to.”
The Inquisitor trembled but he snapped once, twice, and Bull resumed thrusting into his lover’s body.
Dorian couldn’t have been more mesmerized if he’d tried.
Iron Bull patted around the bed before he found what he was looking for and handed it to Dorian. The glass was starkly cold against his skin compared to the heat of Ilya’s body. Shocked as he was, this part Dorian knew in his sleep as he coated his fingers in oil and teased at Ilya’s hole and the slick slide of Bull’s cock.
“Are you quite certain about this, Bull? I’d rather not hurt him,” Dorian inquired, genuinely concerned at the resistant muscle.
“We’ve tried a bit in the past, just go slow.”
Dorian’s breath stuttered as his imagination sped with fantasy after fantasy of what sort of things these two got up to behind closed doors and he had to press a hand to his cock again.
Bull shifted angles again, slowing the pace to Ilya’s clear dismay as he tried to bare down to no avail. Dorian soothed him with gliding fingers across his stretched rim, delighting in the soft sighs, the low groan as he slowly and patiently worked his fingers in alongside Bull’s cock. He was so tight, so warm, and Dorian very much wanted the next few minutes to go by fast.
“I think that’s enough.” Bull kissed across Ilya’s shoulder and neck, nipping.
Dorian felt almost like he was watching all this from the desk again as he slicked himself up and lined himself against Bull’s length. Bull helped Ilya move, careful and ever so watchful for discomfort. Dorian was grateful for Bull slowing the pace. The tight inferno that was Ilya was nearly enough to send him over the edge. He could only imagine how Ilya felt, head thrown back and breath caught in his chest as he was.
Ilya was a sobbing, nodding mess as Dorian thrust alongside Bull. He was so beautiful like this that Dorian couldn’t look away.
Ilya thrashed with each thrust and if the whole of Skyhold didn’t know what they were doing before, they certainly would now.
“That’s right, kadan,” Bull breathed, “Let go.”
Dorian ran a hand down the length of Ilya’s body, wrapping it around his cock and stroking him in time with their thrusts until Ilya’s back arched and he suddenly went quiet, rigid. Dorian was surprised by the force of Ilya’s orgasm as it spattered across his dark skin, moaning as the man clamped down around them.
“Yeahhh,” Bull groaned.
Dorian could feel a hot wetness around himself and he looked down to see Bull’s spend leaking out around their cocks. He shuddered, gasping at the slick pressure. It took but a few more pumps of his cock before Dorian was spilling himself alongside Bull. Dorian shakily pulled out and closed his eyes briefly at the sight of just how much of a mess they’d made of the Inquisitor. It was an image that would haunt him in the best of ways.
The mage looked back up at Ilya’s limp body at where he lay against Bull’s shoulder and reached up to cradle his cheek. Ilya didn’t move.
Worry gripped the pit of his stomach as he called out the Inquisitor's name softly, undoing the buckle and pulling the gag from his lips. Ilya’s breathing was ragged.
Bull chuckled as he checked in with Ilya’s body. “It’s alright. He just passed out. Happened the first time we had sex, too.”
“Think you can give me a hand with these?” Iron Bull gestured towards the ribbons and Dorian’s nimble fingers made quick work of the knots.
Bull carefully handed over Ilya’s body to Dorian before he stood and went into the adjoining bath. Dorian cradled Ilya’s head as he gently lay the man out on the soft sheets. He then removed the clamps and worked away the soreness there and in Ilya’s wrists.
Iron Bull returned shortly with warm, wet cloths and he handed one to Dorian before gently rubbing Ilya’s body down, head to toe. Dorian stood up once he’d cleaned himself off and gathered his clothes, watching Bull massage an ointment into Ilya’s sore flesh.
Dorian’s heart clenched at the gentle care the Iron Bull put into taking care of Ilya in his blissed out state. He was glad that Ilya clearly trusted Bull this much, but it didn’t lessen the sting of what Dorian could never have.
“Hey, come here.”
Dorian jerked out of his thoughts, looking over where Iron Bull held the blanket draped across the two of them pulled back.
“Enough room for a third up here,” Bull offered.
Dorian’s throat worked. “Ah, no, I best not. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
Something shifted in Bull’s eye, thoughtful like Bull so often was, “Dorian.”
Dorian stared at him for a long moment, at the offer before him. He knew Iron Bull would never force him to do something he didn’t want to do. He could walk away and they could never speak of this again.
“Ilya, likes to cuddle after a scene,” Iron Bull continued softly, “It makes him feel safe, cared for. If you want to go, I’ll let him know when he wakes up, but I know he’d like it if you stayed. I’d like it if you stayed. No judgment if you want to go study though.”
And there it was. Bull giving him a way out if he wanted it.
Oddly enough, against his better judgment, Dorian didn’t want to go. He’d regret this later, he knew. But there was little hurt in laying near two attractive men just a moment longer.
“There we go.” Bull pulled the sheet across them and then draped his muscled arm across Ilya’s torso and over Dorian’s hip, drawing him in closer.
Dorian stiffened at first but slowly relaxed, laying a hand over Ilya’s heart. He could feel the man’s pulse under his fingertips and it only churned the conflicting emotions in his chest more.
Dorian really should know better than to let himself get carried away, but sometimes he really should just listen to his heart.
Thanks again to the lovely ImpulsivelyFicced for betaing for me.
Sorry, there's no smut in this one, but I plan on making this a series of one-shots about them and their relationship.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Dorian woke to a soft groan and the tender glide of a hand across the muscles of his upper arm. He raised his head to find the Inquisitor taking him in sleepily and a pang of fear ran through him.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dorian blushed and sat up quickly.
“S’ok,” Ilya sighed and stretched shaking limbs.
He looked exhausted but perfectly content, letting his arms fall where they may.
“Uh, right,” Dorian floundered for a moment in his panic, shifting away. “I should probably get back to it then.”
Ilya reached out and took Dorian’s arm, draping it over himself like a blanket as he rolled away from Dorian, trapping his arm beneath his warm body. “Nope. My arm now. You can’t have it back.”
Dorian huffed near Ilya’s ear, strands of his red hair shifting from the current. There was a foreign flutter in his chest at Ilya’s soft voice and movements. This man was incorrigible, truly.
“I don’t think that’s quite how this works, Inquisitor,” Dorian replied softly, trying and failing to untangle his arm from the Inquisitor’s grasp.
Iron Bull chuckled as he strode around the banister, a large plate of food in his hands. “Sorry. Should have warned you he gets needy.”
Ilya promptly stuck his tongue out at Bull.
Well, this was certainly more awkward than he’d hoped. Dorian definitely should have just taken his things and returned to the library regardless of everyone running about in preparation for Halamshiral.
Iron Bull placed the platter on the Inquisitor’s desk before joining them at the bed. The mattress dipped under Bull’s weight and Dorian was starkly reminded that both he and the Inquisitor were still naked under the covers.
“How are you feeling, kadan?” Bull asked as he ran a hand lovingly through Ilya’s hair.
“Like a noodle. Totally worth it.”
Bull laughed again.
Ilya shifted back a bit so he could look up at Bull better. “Might have to postpone our trip to the Emerald Graves by a few days though. Not sure I can move.”
“And whose fault was that?” Bull teased. “You seemed to particularly like option two.”
Ilya gave Bull a salacious grin and Bull turned his gaze onto Dorian.
“Thanks for joining us, Dorian. That was fun.”
Right. This was as good a time as any to just go. No need to make this more awkward than it already was. He very much felt like he was intruding in a moment he did not belong, would never belong.
“Well, of course. I’m always a delight,” Dorian quipped and pulled himself finally from Ilya’s grasp. “I’ll just be off then.”
Ilya sat up and rubbed his lower back as Dorian retrieved his clothes. Dorian felt oddly guilty at Ilya’s puzzled expression.
“You’re not staying?”
Stay? What a silly question.
“You know how it is, my dear,” Dorian replied with a wave of his hand.
The buckles on his tunic were simply not cooperating with his fingers. How absurd.
“You might have to enlighten us, Dorian,” Iron Bull stated, and his watching eye made Dorian feel like he could see right through him.
When Dorian looked at Ilya, his heart sunk at the hurt and confusion on his young face.
Yes. He definitely should have left much earlier. This was the sort of thing he didn’t want to happen.
“I…You weren’t serious about me staying? That’s just…,” Dorian scrambled for words. His heart was so loud in his ears. “That’s just not how things are done.”
Surely they knew that.
“Not how things are done?” Ilya furrowed his brows. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Dorian felt sick to his stomach. “Dalliances between men in Tevinter…It’s about pleasure. It’s accepted but taken no further. You’d be foolish to.”
Bull and Ilya shared a look.
“But you’re not in Tevinter anymore. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Very well,” Dorian sighed heavily. “We’ve had our fun. Perfectly reasonable to leave it here, get on with the business of killing archdemons and all that. After all, you’re the Inquisitor. I’m just a Tevinter mage. And that’s not even starting with your Qunari lover there. Needn’t give the masses a heart attack.”
His words felt like bile on his tongue. He knew he was making an ass of himself, but how else could he make them see sense. They clearly lived in their own little delusion that the world would just let them continue their relationship as if Ilya’s family didn’t already have marriage proposals lined up over a league long. Between himself and the Iron Bull, there was little hope for anything lasting. It just wasn’t done for people like the Inquisitor and himself.
Iron Bull put a comforting hand on Ilya’s shoulder, though his gaze was calculating. “It’s ok, Dorian. If you want to leave, just go. We’re not going to force you to stay.”
Ilya watched him the entire time he dressed himself. Wherever they lay, it felt like Dorian’s skin was scorching.
The bed creaked and he raised his eyes from a particularly stubborn buckle as the Inquisitor wobbled over, perfectly naked in the evening sunlight.
“You’re more than just a mage, Dorian,” Ilya said stubbornly. “I’m more than just the Inquisitor, and Iron Bull is more than just a Qunari. I care for him. And I care for you. That’s not mutually exclusive.”
Ilya’s jaw was set and his blue eyes were piercing. He was angry, and Dorian didn’t blame him.
“I get that you have a lot of self-loathing, a lot of fear and destructive behaviors,” Ilya continued, “That’s abundantly clear when you get drunk and wander off with someone.”
“Ilya,” Iron Bull said gently in warning.
Dorian’s hands clenched into fists.
“You’re not in Tevinter anymore. You don’t have to abide by their rules. After that crap with your father, I thought you’d figured that out finally.”
Dorian felt like he’d been slapped.
He never thought the Inquisitor of all people would throw that in his face. To be fair, it was true, and he knew it even if he didn’t want to acknowledge it. Didn’t mean he was particularly pleased to hear his friend say it aloud.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong. If just fleeting fun is all you want, then I’ll accept that, but Bull and I were hoping you’d want something more. Hell, we’ve been trying to talk to you about this for ages."
“You what?” Dorian jerked back, startled.
“You really are thick sometimes, you know that?” Bull sighed and leaned back against the headboard of the bed.
Dorian looked between the two of them.
Ilya’s voice softened. “We care about you, Dorian. It’s never been just about sex. You’re charming and intelligent and witty. Stubborn and a pain in the ass, but I – we love being around you.”
There was a dangerous fluttering in Dorian’s chest, a small ray of hope he’d stamped out so many times he’d lost count. He knew better than to hope for more. He knew better. The Inquisitor was just young and naïve.
“It wouldn’t last. Not for people like you and me. I mean, your family alone…They wouldn’t want you to tarnish your reputation because of me.”
Ilya huffed a laugh. “That’s what you’re worried about? My family knows I’m gay, Dorian. They don’t care. I’ve already told them several times that I’m going to live my life regardless of their approval. Being the Inquisitor doesn’t change that.”
“But you…I don’t…This won’t…”
Ilya looked at him so softly, Dorian almost believed him. Like there was no demanding world outside the door.
“My family knows I’m committed to Iron Bull. Great-aunt Lucille made good use of her fainting couch, so I’m told. But the rest of my family doesn’t care. I think Bull still has some letters from my brother.”
Iron Bull chuckled, “It still cracks me up. We made some good memories of some of the stuff he sent, didn’t we, kadan.”
“We don’t just take random strangers to bed, Dorian,” Ilya continued, cradling his hand against Dorian’s cheek. “Though that’s fun and all, it’s not really what we’re looking for. We trust you, and we like you. A lot.” Ilya blushed, tentatively lowering his hand. “I-if that’s not what you want, that’s ok. Just don’t lie to any of us about it, or to yourself. Ok? Just know that you aren’t alone.”
Dorian stood stock still, still processing everything he’d just heard. They liked him? Wanted him? No one had ever wanted him. For sex, yes. But never to stay. Not to be a part of something, to be with someone. He was so used to disappointment, of never letting himself go and feel and want that it was so foreign to him now.
“Speechless, I see,” Ilya breathed.
“I,” Dorian began, swallowing. “I was expecting something different.” He turned to the Iron Bull, “You feel like this as well?”
Bull nodded. “Yeah. You’re hot as fuck and you’re fun to be around. Not just because of the sex – which was great, by the way. At first I was just curious who else Ilya would sleep with, but then we got to thinking about it. We both really like you and would love to add you on to what we’ve got going on, but we’re not going to pressure you into it. Honestly, thought you were just playing hard to get or something. I mean, we were kinda obvious about it. Pretty sure Varric’s already writing smut.”
“Vishante kaffas,” Dorian muttered and buried his face in his hands.
Looking back at it, he really should have understood that’s where the flirting had been going between the three of them. Dorian had thought Ilya was just being friendly, humoring him. And Iron Bull was just…well, risqué. He loved flirting but he certainly hadn’t pictured this outcome.
“I know you’ve probably got a lot to think about,” Ilya hugged himself, blush down to his freckled chest now, “Sorry, for throwing this all at you.”
Oh, this man. Passionate and stubborn one minute, then shy the next.
Ilya looked like he wanted to say more, pursing his lips and very much appearing like a kicked puppy. Dorian both hated him for that and loved him for it. Well, so much as it wasn’t geared towards him. In this case, he found he wanted to pull the man to his chest.
They wanted him. Not just for the sex. He could scarcely believe it.
It was an entertaining thought, being with them. The domesticity was almost laughable but more comforting a thought than Dorian thought it would be. It would hurt in the long-run, no doubt. After all, he was a wreck painted like a dream. Surely they would tire of him.
Ilya shifted on his feet.
Well, why not. He scoffed at himself.
It was Ilya. And the Iron Bull. They would never hurt him, that much he knew for certain. He trusted them with his life. Perhaps he could trust them with the fragility of his heart.
The rational part of him was positively seething. Could he even risk hurting himself so badly again? It ached the first time. It could only do the same again.
“Dorian?” Ilya asked shyly, watching him.
He felt like an idiot. He cared for them, and they for him.
Dorian stepped forward and enveloped Ilya in his arms. The man squeaked in surprise at first before wrapping himself around Dorian and burying his face in the crook of Dorian’s neck, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Do you regret it?” Ilya asked softly, fingers flexing where they lay at Dorian’s back.
Of that, he was certain. It would likely be burned into his memory for some time to come.
“But you’re right. It is a lot to think about,” Dorian continued shakily.
Ilya nodded. “Sorry.”
Dorian squeezed him tighter and looked over to the Iron Bull. Bull gave him a soft smile but said nothing.
Dorian patted Ilya on the back and pulled away. “Now, what are you doing out of bed? I’m surprised you’re even standing.”
Ilya groaned. “Well, I wouldn’t be if someone hadn’t been so dramatic.”
That brought a smile to Dorian’s lips and he promptly lifted the Inquisitor into his arms – “Maker!” – and deposited on him on the bed.
“Do take him for me, will you?” Dorian inquired of Bull.
“Gladly.” Iron Bull pulled Ilya back against him and kissed the top of his head.
Surely, he could stay just a moment longer. After all, his work would still be there later.
Dorian brought the tray over to the bed and sat across from them. “Now, I do believe we missed dinner judging by the sunset.”
“We could always skip dinner and go straight to desert,” Bull chuckled and Ilya groaned.
Thank you to everyone who's read this and have commented. Love you guys <3