Spellbound

20. An Old Friend

Waking up next to Dorian was another first for Lavellan. In winters, he often slept cuddled against his tribe members to store heat between their bedrolls comprising thick furs from bears and wolves. It was proximity out of necessity, so everybody treated it as such and huddled with each other to use the excuse for sappy hugs.

This was different.

When Lavellan roused next to Dorian, his back was nestled against the mage's chest. With every rise of Dorian's ribcage, warmth poured into Lavellan as he engulfed the smaller elf with his frame.

Lavellan was incredibly cosy, though his closeness to Dorian without them having reason to press together made him skirmish. He placed his hand on Dorian's arm around his waist as he contemplated pushing him off. The skin of the mage was smooth and hairless for a human, but Lavellan figured Dorian's sense of hygiene had him disgusted by body hair. Not even down there, he had-

Lavellan violently shook the thought off. Despite the early hour, a healthy blush raged in his face as if he were a shy virgin who had bedded a man for the first time. A man like Dorian, specifically.

Before Lavellan had to determine if he wanted Dorian's arm gone, Dorian shifted behind him. His breathing pattern stuttered, then a throaty grumble fled his throat. Stiff in his caution not to wake the mage, Lavellan froze by his side.

Sleep drifted away from them as Dorian squeezed his arm around Lavellan's waist. He tugged their bodies to align tighter and buried his head in the back of Lavellan's shoulder as he protested his unfortunate fate of having to wake up. His moustache tickled against Lavellan's shoulder as he felt pouty lips press a kiss to his skin. The elf shivered.

"You cold?" Dorian muttered, Tevene accent thick in his sleep-riddled voice. He didn't wait for Lavellan to answer when his body seared beyond normal human temperature. Scorching hot but not hurting on Lavellan's flesh, that arm heated him up.

Lavellan chuckled in disbelief.

"You do magic while half asleep? Isn't that dangerous?"

Dorian grumbled something intelligible into Lavellan's back. He concentrated only on the heat until it was toasty warm under the silken blanket tangled around their middles.

By the time they were absolutely overheated and Lavellan couldn't bear it any longer, he sat up. Dorian let him, rolling off to stretch without a care in the world about his nudity. On the contrary, he seemed to relish the sight of his lax body lolling in the sheets.

Lavellan glanced down at him while he delighted in the now pleasant air of the room. Dorian's hair was ruffled from sleep, and his moustache was less dynamical, though still ridiculously well-groomed. When his hand came up to push his messy hair back into his everyday look of sweeping grace, it stayed right in place after a single expert touch.

Fascinated, Lavellan reached for his tunic on the ground to cover his bare body with it. He idled before dressing further, not wanting to look as if he were eager to leave first again.

His patience got rewarded when Dorian crawled over to the edge of the bed to sit with him. After a moment of gazing into Lavellan's distrustful eyes, the mage leaned in to leave a sweet kiss on Lavellan's lips. As he pulled off, Lavellan couldn't help his smile at the innocent gesture of affection.

"Good morning," Dorian greeted with formality. Lavellan returned the words and watched as Dorian slipped into a pair of wide pants that were more of a skirt than anything else, with how much flowing fabric was added to it. With naked feet, he padded through his room and into the closet.

"I have something for you. Thought I would wait for the right moment to present it to you," Dorian called over his rustling. Surprised, Lavellan fidgeted with the long sleeves of his tunic that reached over his hands. He was too lazy to tie the laces yet, so he waited on Dorian's bed in a matching state of dishevelled until the mage returned.