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Slaying the Dragon

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“Oh, this is going to be a very good day!” Bull roared as the dragon screeched and flew right over their heads. They hadn’t fought a dragon before, Kessal always deciding that things like “living” and “not burning to death” were more important.

However today the Inquisitor raised his staff and yelled out, “After it!”

That was when Bull knew for sure just how good the day was going to be. Beside him Dorian sighed in exasperation, “Bull if you get anymore excited about this you’re going to be dual-wielding.”

Bull grinned and grabbed his dick through his pants, looking Dorian right in the eye, “Who says I’m not, Vint?”

“Uhg!” Dorian stormed off.

“I’m going to use that verbatim in my next Swords & Shields serial,” said Varric, “you, sir, are a gold mine.”

“Ha! Just credit me!” Bull took the giant sword off his back, blood pumping with excitement. He tore off after the dragon, leaving Kessal, Varric, and Dorian behind him. The Inquisitor yelled something but Bull didn’t hear it, the blood rushing in a dull roar through his ears. The only thing piercing it the sound of a screeching dragon. It twisted its long neck to spit a ball of fire right at Bull, which he ducked and rolled away from in one smooth motion. He was big, but he knew how to move. Bull rolled up right beside the dragon’s back leg and slammed his sword against it, lightening crackling out from the rune set in the hilt. The dragon screamed and twisted, probably would have taken a chunk out of his shoulder, until it was blasted off balance by the combined spells of Dorian and Kessal.

“Taarsidath-an halsaam!” Bull screamed.

The fight seemed to go on forever and ended too soon at the same time. Bits and pieces blurred into a frenzy of blood and fire, but other moments would live on in his memory for eternity. Jumping on the dragon’s head and bringing the sword down between his eyes, seeing Dorian send down lightening from the skies in a furious burst, watching Kessal summon a sword of pure energy and jump into the fray, Varric sliding under the dragon and peppering it’s soft belly with a volley of arrows.

One long moan and the dragon collapsed to the ground, the fire in its eyes going out. The whole group was left panting for breath, clothes torn and smoking lightly. Bull laughed, throwing his head back to the sky with elation. “Boss, you’re the best!”

“That might have been a lapse in good judgment,” Kessal panted, hands on his knees, “that fight was a little close for comfort.” His red hair was coming out of the knot he usually kept it in and his horns looked a bit scorched.

“It was glorious!” Bull clenched his hand into a victorious fist, all his cuts and burns a testament to the power they had just killed. He felt like a god! He wanted to fight another dragon! He wanted to fuck!

Dorian was picking at a large tear in his robe, clearly mourning the damage.

“We should go back to camp before Sparkler bursts into tears,” Varric placed Bianca on his back with a wicked smile.

“I’m not going to cry! Excuse me for caring about my clothes!” Dorian gave up on the rip, looking exceedingly disgruntled. Iron Bull wanted to get back to camp and get out all this lingering energy… and wipe that look off of Dorian’s face.

Back at camp the Inquisitor briefed scout Harding about what they had done, Varric went off to clean Bianca, and Iron Bull grabbed Dorian by the back of his ripped collar and dragged him into their shared tent. “You barbarian!” Dorian snarled, “you horrible slobbering beast! You-! Mmph!” Iron Bull silenced him with a harsh kiss, shoving Dorian down into their blankets and pillows. No matter how much he bitched and complained the moment things started he always threw himself into it. Bull smirked as he slipped his tongue between Dorian’s lips, feeling hands grip the base of his horns and pull him down harder.

He pulled back with a harsh breath, sitting up to undo his harness and place it aside with a loud clatter. “Did you hear that little gurgle before it spit flames at us?” Bull hissed between his teeth, “did you see the way it flared its wings when it roared at us? If only I could roar like that!”

“You’re already loud enough,” sneered Dorian, working on one of his many buckles. Bull would never understand Tevinter fashion, look at how impractical it was! Dorian always took forever to get it off, but not today… that outfit was already ruined. Bull grabbed the front of the robe, looking Dorian right in the eye. “Bull…” warned Dorian, eyes narrowing, “Don’t. You. Dare.”

Iron Bull ripped the front of the robe open and Dorian’s eyes darkened, “It was already ruined.”

“You stupid-!” Bull put a hand over his mouth, muffling any further swearing as he ripped away the rest of Dorian’s clothes. If Dorian wanted to stop he knew the hand signals. Instead he felt a hot tongue against his palm even as Dorian glared up at him. Once his pants were off Bull could see just how worked up he really was, his cock was hard and leaking over his flat belly.

“You spit more fire than the dragon,” said Bull, bending down until their foreheads touched, “do you know how hard I’m going to fuck you?”

Dorian’s breathing picked up, pupils dilating until it was just a thin ring of grey around inky black. Bull lightly kissed the back of his own hand, savoring the small whimper against his palm. Dorian wriggled under him, arching up until his cock brushed against Bull’s thigh. He sat up on his knees, grabbing some of the fabric from Dorian’s outfit and tearing off a long strip with his teeth so he didn’t have to free Dorian’s mouth.

Every move he made was watched closely, and he could feel how much harder Dorian was starting to breathe with every strip he tore off. Finally Bull removed his hand, flipping Dorian onto his stomach to tie his arms behind his back. Dorian moaned, forehead on the floor as he automatically arched his hips up, presenting that perfect ass. Iron Bull slapped it hard, drawing out a loud yelp that was music to his ears.

“The size of that dragon,” said Bull, pulling off his pants to toss them aside, “it was monstrous… now I know how it feels to be small…but we killed it all the same!”

“Why don’t you just…fuck the dragon!” Dorian snarled breathlessly.

“I thought I was,” said Bull, pulling Dorian’s hips back to grind his cock between his firm round cheeks. Dorian moaned, burying his face against a pillow to muffle his sounds. That would hardly do. Bull grabbed another strap, leaning over Dorian to slide it between his teeth like a bridle, letting him tangle his fingers in the end of strip and yank his head back whenever he wanted.

“You son of a motherless whore!” Dorian swore, voice slightly muffled.

Bull kept a hand on his impromptu reins while the other grabbed up a vial of oil they always left in the tent. The feeling of victory, the blood lust, was still pumping hot through his veins and though he usually liked to tease Dorian until he begged, Bull couldn’t bring himself to wait that long. If Dorian’s panting and groaning was anything to go by, there might have been some blood lust linger in him as well. He trickled oil down the crack of Dorian’s ass, spreading more of it on his fingers so he could slide one in effortlessly.

“Uhnnn…!” Dorian pulled against Bull’s grip and when he gave a perfunctory yank on the fabric that just had Dorian groaning loudly. Oh, he liked that, did he? Dorian struggled again and Bull responded with another yank, pulling Dorian’s head back and raising him up on his knees with a wheeze. There was drool running from the corner of his mouth and Bull leaned forward to lick it up. Dorian whimpered, brow furrowing.

“I’m going to do this every time we slay a dragon,” Bull hissed, biting his earlobe, “maybe next time I’ll just fuck you right there on the ground.”

His chest was pressed tightly against Dorian’s back, he felt his arms flex, his hands curl into fists… see the muscles in his shoulders shiver. He slipped in a second thick finger, feeling Dorian go up further on his knees, back arching until he could rest the back of his head against Bull’s shoulder. He was so flexible. A third finger, working Dorian’s ass open with rougher and rougher twists of his wrist, the tent filling with the sloppy sounds of Bull’s fingers fucking Dorian loose.

“Enough!” Dorian finally gasped out, hips rolling down onto his fingers greedily, “Fuck me…unless you’re all talk!”

“Someone here is all talk and it’s not me,” Bull twisted the hand holding his fabric reins and Dorian’s neck strained briefly, adams apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. Just enough to remind him who was in charge. His fingers slid free one at a time, leaving Dorian panting and trembling above him. Bull slathered his cock with more oil and then tossed the now-empty vial aside to focus on guiding Dorian down. He had one hand on his cock, holding it as his other used the reins to pull him down. Dorian was gasping around the fabric, cheeks pulled back until he bit into the strip and tugged stubbornly against Bull’s grip, his ass sitting just barely on the tip of Bull’s aching cock.

He could see the muscles in Dorian’s jaw working as he ground his teeth down. Smoke shot from Dorian’s nose and the fabric fell away, burn marks on the edges. Bull’s mouth dropped open as he watched Dorian spit out the charred mess from his mouth along with a plume of acrid smoke. Dorian gave Bull a wicked smile over his shoulder and it pushed him right over the edge. Bull surged forward, shoving Dorian face-first into the pillows with a hand against the back of his neck. He thrust forward roughly, filling Dorian with his cock.

Fire burned in his belly, hotter than any dragon’s flame. With every thrust he relived the ecstasy of battle, recalled the smoke and blood, heard the roaring in his ears. Bull yanked Dorian back against every thrust, filling the tent with rough slapping sounds of skin against skin and Dorian’s shameless cries for more. Every once in awhile smoke curled from between his lips and it drove Bull mad with want. Dorian turned his head, looking up from the corner of his eye to meet Bull’s gaze. It only lasted a moment, nothing more than a glance, but the look in Dorian’s eye tugged at his heart. It was almost adoration.

“Uhhh fasta vaas! Festis bei umo canavarum!” Dorian turned his head back against the pillows and any further Tevene babbling was muffled.

Bull knew how to work Dorian’s body, knew where to stroke and rub and grip. He rolled his hips just right and savored the way Dorian’s back arched. All too soon Bull could feel the flames licking his lower belly, his balls tightening as he got closer to coming with every rough thrust. Dorian was a drooling wreck beneath him, alternating his swearing between Tevene and the common tongue. Bull pulled out with a wet sound, grinning as he noted the way Dorian’s sloppy hole twitched at the sudden emptiness.

“Bull, damn you! Kaffas!” Bull got to his feet, dragging Dorian onto his knees and shoving his cock against his full lips, glistening with spit and swollen from being bitten.

“Do that smoke thing,” said Bull, working a thumb into Dorian’s mouth to follow it swiftly with his cock. He was lingering right on the edge, molten pleasure trembling at the base of his cock, he just needed a push.

Dorian glared up at him, lips stretching beautifully around the girth of his prick. A hot clever tongue pressed against Bull’s shaft and he sucked hard, eyes slipping shut. There was an unnatural build of heat around his flesh and Bull gasped, putting his hand in Dorian’s mussed hair to grip it tightly, staring down as tendrils of smoke curled from the corners of Dorian’s mouth. Bull grit his teeth and growled as he finally came, all that heat in his belly spilling out his pulsing cock in thick ropes that filled Dorian’s mouth and leaked down his chin.

Bull pulled back and fell to his knees, cupping the back of Dorian’s head to urge him into a long messy kiss. One touch to Dorian’s engorged cock and he was stripping Bull’s fingers with come, groaning into Bull’s mouth. It wasn’t until Dorian stopped shuddering that Bull pulled back, licking his lips and tasting his own come. Dorian looked wrecked, leaning heavily against him and panting heavily for breath.

Kadan…” Bull untied the strip holding Dorian’s arms behind his back, massaging his shoulders and back to help with any cramps, “how did you do that mouth thing?” Bull slowly lay Dorian down, settling beside him before tucking him close against his chest.

Dorian just sighed, pillowing his head on Bull’s arm and tracing nonsense patterns over his chest and belly, “How do you think? Just don’t expect it again anytime soon, I won’t be able to taste anything for a week.”

Bull chuckled, fingers running soothingly through Dorian’s hair as he felt the Tevinter fall asleep.

The next morning everyone was already around the fire eating when Bull came out of the tent with a big stretch, “Ah! A wonderful morning for more fighting and killing Vints!”

“How rude,” came Dorian’s voice from inside the tent.

“Yeah,” said Varric over a bowl of porridge with a crooked smile on his face, “you didn’t get enough Vint last night?”

Kessal almost had his nose in his bowl and staunchly refused to look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Varric, I didn’t hear anything at all. Ever. Did I ever tell you I’m deaf?”

“You forgot to mention that,” said Varric wrly.

Scout Harding spit out a mouthful of porridge and Bull turned around to see Dorian walking out of the tent with his hands on his hips looking irritated. His clothes had been completely destroyed last night so he had what remained of his robe wrapped around his waist. Kessal seemed to hunch further into his porridge, turning bright red.

“This is your fault, you stupid beast!” Dorian spat, pointing to his impromptu skirt.

Bull burst into laughter, “I didn’t hear you complaining last night!”

“Me either,” butt in Varric, clearly enjoying the awkwardness.

“Stay out of it, you barely literate writer of pulp,” Dorian snapped, “I need an extra robe!”

Kessal reluctantly looked up from his porridge as everyone turned to look at the only other mage in the party. Bull raised an eyebrow and the Inquisitor sighed, putting his head in his hands, “in the chest in my tent…”

Bull and Dorian both went into the tent, opening the chest and pulling out a robe. It was so big Dorian was swimming in it but it would do the job until they got into town to buy him a new robe. He was muttering to himself angrily as he rolled up the sleeves and adjusting all the belts as tight as he possibly could around his waist and chest. Bull laughed under his breath, slapping Dorian on the ass and wrapping an arm around his waist before he could leap away.

“Peace, Kadan, we’ll find you something nice,” said Bull.

Dorian sighed, “Won’t lie…it was kind of worth it…but you’re buying my new robe.”

“Something with less belts?”

“If that’s what it takes to keep you from ripping them off,” Dorian muttered, fiddling with his rolled up sleeve. He looked like he was hiding how pleased he was. Bull put a finger under his chin and urged him into a short kiss.

“I’ll pay for two,” he said.

“Hmmm, my savage Amatusss,” Dorian hissed and Bull thought he saw just a hint of steam rising from his mouth. Bull froze and Dorian slipped away.

That had sounded like a challenge.

Dorian by Ukenceto