Pattern

Dorian was a good lover.

No, a very good lover. He was kind and calm for the most part, and he could take so many oddities in stride. He had a perfect face, perfect hands, perfect legs, and a perfect ass. There really wasn't much more to ask for. Sure, he was Tevinter and would say some stupid things, but he was willing to be put in his place. Sometimes roughly, but he enjoyed it.

Now that Dorian had started sleeping in his bedroom, days usually followed the same path. They would wake up, Dorian wrapped up in Lavellan's arms, eat something small that Lavellan kept hidden away in his room—Dorian always said he was like a mouse, hiding things away so that he didn't have to interact with the humans, and Lavellan didn't bother denying it—and then theh would split, go to the library or meetings, sometimes head out on Inquisition business, return for food at the tavern, and then go back to the bedroom. Lavellan would usually spend an hour or two tinkering with something as Dorian read and watched him.

It was a very effective system. They usually had sex on Saturdays. Sometimes, Dorian broke the pattern because he was in the mood, and Lavellan usually indulged him. Today was a Saturday, and they had the time to stick to their schedule.

Dorian, like usual, was draped over his shoulders, teeth playing with Lavellan's floppy elven ear. Gods, Lavellan hated how sensitive his ears were. It was unfair humans didn't have a similar little zone.

"Enjoying yourself, Inquisitor?" Dorian smiled, his lightly waxed facial hair tickling Lavellan's cheek. "How someone in bed with me can have such an angry little look on his face is incredible!"

"I'm not angry," Lavellan said back. "Just annoyed you're spendin' so much time on this teasin'."

"Oh, you're always skipping the fun parts!" Dorian sighed, rolling his eyes affectionately.

Lavellan pulled him down onto him, squishing their bodies together and into the soft shemlen bed. Dorian was a full head taller than him, and a great deal heavier, what with all that decorative muscle. Lavellan pulled him in for a kiss, twisting his fingers through Dorian's perfect black hair. He envied how well the human could breathe during kisses, what with his handsome human nose.

Wiggling his knee between Dorian's legs, Lavellan quickly and efficiently spread his legs.

Looking down at Lavellan, Dorian raised an amused eyebrow, seeming excited at the prospect of staying on top.

"I know, I know," Lavellan said, reaching back to the nightstand to grab the oil he knew Dorian liked the best. His magic was usually a little rougher around the edges than was preferable in the bedroom. Either that or far too slow and meticulous. Without much ceremony, he set to preparing Dorian, making him jump a little, moving a couple inches forward to give Lavellan a better angle. His hands were pressed against the bed, larger frame covering Lavellan completely.

Lavellan finished preparing him in about four minutes, a number he had settled on and stuck to. He liked to count the seconds to make sure he got it right. He could tune out Dorian's noises easily to keep focus.

"Here," Lavellan said, coating his length in oil with one hand, the other holding Dorian's hips in place. Dorian didn't quiet himself as he sat back onto Lavellan's cock, making Lavellan roll his eyes despite himself. "Oh, shut it," he mumbled around his teeth, biting down on his bottom lip. He didn't usually let the human take control, but really, Lavellan knew he was capable of flipping their positions, with Dorian hardly protesting.

He had become a lot more comfortable in bed with Dorian, no longer desperately pulling at his right ear in an attempt to keep his cool. Now that he was thinking about it, he felt his right hand fly up to grab it, tugging at the pink, freckled skin to soothe himself. Dorian noticed, and kept slowly moving up and down on Lavellan's hips, one hand running through fluffy, silver-streaked ginger hair. His touch had become incredibly soothing over time.

"You alright, Lavellan?" His gray-green eyes shone in the candlelight. His soft thumb traced the geometric lines of black vallaslin where they cut across vast swathes of vile freckles.

"Absolutely," Lavellan said back. "Now-" He inhaled sharply as he felt pleasure start to catch up with him. "Gods, you bastard-! Fuck, you feel good!"

Dorian laughed, delighted smile taking up his perfect features. "There's my good old Lavellan!"

"Damn shemlen!" Lavellan panted. Dorian leaned back, his spine arched in the most elegant, effortless-looking way. Lavellan knew, with confidence, that he looked nowhere near as good in bed. He always got all pink-faced and his hair usually fell every which way and obscured his eyes.

It only took another few minutes and a whole mess of willpower before Lavellan came hard, one hand gripping Dorian's hip like his life depended on it and the other tangled up in his hair. Dorian's hand moved to his own length, spending the few moments Lavellan was still hazy after climax to finish himself off, sending another wave of softened pleasure through Lavellan's body.

As per usual, they spent a minute lying side by side before Lavellan all but rolled out of bed to draw up a shaky-legged bath. He couldn't stand the feeling of sex clinging to his skin, even if Dorian's... fluid did a good job at obscuring some of the freckles on his chest. Both he and Dorian spent a good few minutes washing each other of their previous activity, Dorian interrupting the process only a few times—four, to be exact—to squeeze Lavellan's backside.

He left Dorian to dry off ever so carefully as he stripped the bed of the outer, dirtied layers. At first, Dorian hadn't hidden his perplexities at Lavellan's need to change the sheets, but now he just smiled and shook his head in amusement.

Once the sheets had been cast off into their basket, Lavellan carefully placed a throw blanket on, crawling beneath the covers and gesturing for Dorian to join him. The bed would be made, fully, tomorrow morning. He wrapped his limbs around the human as soon as he got into bed, breathing in his scent. Even sex couldn't take away the scent of foreign perfumes he usually wore. Lavellan was incredibly thankful they had fallen into such a lovely pattern.