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Dorian lazily flipped a tattered page of a dusty tome. Small, pale clouds slithered up around his face and were quickly swatted away. He ran a hand slowly through his hair as his head descended into the book. He hadn't even finished the first sentence before he heard the low shuffling of feet nearby. With narrowed eyes, he scanned the cluttered room, mumbling to himself about how he could have sworn he had locked the door. "Ah!" he whispered excitedly. The mage felt a smirk dance across his lips when spotted a pair of horns poking out from behind a large stack of books. "Your horns betray you." laughed the man warmly, rising from his seat.
The horns jolted and began to fidget around nervously. "Ah, you've spotted me, have you?" wondered a hushed, deep voice.
"Yes, how could anything so big go unnoticed, hm?" accused Dorian gently as he lifted several books off of the stack. Iron Bull's blushing, grinning face met his. Dorian returned his smile, lowered the books back onto the pile and returned to his seat. "What do you need?"
"I was just curious about your well being." admitted the qunari shyly as he peeked his massive head out from behind the books. "Our last outing was pretty tough."
"To believe I survived something a qunari considers to be tough. I'm honored." He eased himself back into his chair and examined his book keenly for a moment. "And you?"
"I'm fine, not even a dragon can tame me." boasted the man confidently, his voice almost a roar. He stepped out from behind the books and rapped a knuckle along his horns. "Tougher than scales. "
"And harder too, I'm sure." remarked Dorian, casting a glance at the Iron Bull.
A crimson wing opened across the qunari's cheeks. "Ah, yes."
"To make a qunari blush." sighed the mage jovially. "What a surprise."
"It's not too hard, we're not as cold as most think, nor do we worship combat." He looked to his feet and then to the book that absorbed Dorian's attention. "Some of us prefer ink over blood." The man raised an eyebrow and turned from the book.
"Is that so?"
"Yes. I find the pen to be infinitely more beautiful than the blade. Why, if I were to ever bleed, I wouldn't be surprised if ink flowed freely from the wound."
"Ah, so you fancy yourself a poet?"
"No," replied Iron Bull bluntly. He slid a thick finger alongside his horns with a faint grin etched into his lips. "I'm a warrior, but I do sometimes believe that my heart is a poet."
"Just your heart? Your heart is yours, so then you are the poet." informed Dorian plainly, placing a finger upon his breast. "It is you."
"If it was truly mine, I would be able to command it as I command my limbs. No, this pitiful thing does not obey me. Why, even now it goes against my wishes. I want it to slow down, but it will not. When my heart happens to see you, it works itself into a frenzy and I fear that it may break its cage if it does not stop."
"Then the obvious solution would be to not see me."
"I wouldn't-" stammered Iron Bull anxiously, his horns trembling. "No, I have tried, but my heart punishes me. I cannot go without you or it will shatter my ribs." confessed the Bull weakly.
Dorian looked over the qunari and gave a helpless sigh. "Then I believe the next best thing would be to spend more time together, so that your heart grows accustomed to me and settles down."
Iron Bull felt his face burn hotter than a dragon's fiery sneeze. "If that is what a mage prescribes, then I have no choice but to obey." he said, happily resigned to his fate with a broad smile. "I shall see you on the morrow then."
Dorian grinned and gave a curt nod. "Yes."
"So much sexual tension!" screamed Sera, bursting out from behind a desk. "My gods, just stick in it and get it over with!" She eyed the two hotly and her infernal gaze forced both men to grow flustered. "Embers in your cheeks and arrows in your pants. It's so obvious, so just do it!" she grumbled, stomping her feet and crossing her arms.
"Do not pout." advised Dorian coolly, recovered from her outburst. "And are you the one who unlocked my door?"
"If I didn't, you guys would have never had this talk. It was for the greater good." she lectured with a stern voice. "You ought to be grateful."
"I'm not-" began the mage.
"Thank you," mumbled Iron Bull, bowing slightly to the elf.
"Don't encourage her!" sighed the frustrated man, slumping back. "I swear, you two-"
"Now, now, don't argue because of me. Let the lust continue! I'll leave!" She swiftly ducked behind the desk once more.
"We know you're still there."
"No, I'm not." snapped the desk.