Chapter Text
No one has ever kissed Cullen like this, like he’s something to savor, to master, tongue teasing and skilled, lips soft and warm and making him dizzy. There’s a rhythm to it, syncopated, and Cullen can’t quite figure out the steps. Every move the man makes is a surprise. A small sound clicks in his throat when teeth ghost over his lower lip and suddenly the kiss turns devious, taunting, playing him in the best way, giving him a little and taking it away, making Cullen chase him. A flick of the tongue on the roof of his mouth - you can’t catch me - and then suddenly cold, absent, no lips against his until he grabs the man’s face and brings them together.
---
"Wow," Cullen breathes when it’s over.
Delight glitters in Dorian’s eyes. “Wow indeed.”
---
No one has ever kissed Dorian like this, like what they want most in the world is him, to hold him, suspend him here and keep him forever. Every move the Commander makes is slow, insecure even with his hands gripping his shirt. Dorian peeks - Dorian always peeks - and sees the soft creasing of Cullen’s brow, the squeezing shut of his eyes, feels a leather glove at the back of his neck pull him closer closer closer. Their foreheads bump and Cullen’s chapped lips run gently over Dorian’s, fingers tender in his hair. When Cullen gasps and Dorian knows he has him truly, he pulls back, letting himself be gathered close, arms around him and kisses like wonder, kisses like joy, kisses like needing and wanting and yet never going faster, never pressing for more. Dorian would give more, give everything, but all Cullen is asking for is this - to hold him close and kiss him sweetly, to breathe him deep into his lungs until the world melts away.
---
Cullen ducks his head, cheeks pink. “It wasn’t too much, was it?”
"No, amatus." Darker hand on golden face. He doesn’t even feel the need to tease him. "It was perfect."