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Recuperation

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Dragon Age: Inquisition

Male Lavellan Inquisitor | Iron Bull

“Recuperation”

 


 

I

 

          The Inquisitor wasn’t without his performative, often tedious duties of writing letters, playing diplomacy, and being the shining hero of Thedas. Yet, when the Mark took his arm, his duties lessened and ultimately it was his advisors who took the brute of his tasks. It wasn’t without his complaints, of course, but his advisors would have none of it. Josephine and Leliana commandeered most of his writing, and Cullen kept the would-be protestors of the Inquisitor at bay at the gates of Skyhold in the midst of warmongering. Cassandra was a stalwart shield in all endeavors; inside and out.

          The Inquisitor was leaned over his war table, eyeing down the many carved motifs littering his stabbed, stained, and partially burnt map of the world. He’d fought in a dozen battles, calmed calamities from shore to shore, and faced legendary dragons, yet without his other arm, it all seemed to be a lifetime ago. Occasionally, the stump where his arm once was would throb and ache; a reminder of his curse-riddled fate. The Mark saved Thedas, at the cost of nearly taking his life and Mahanon considered himself lucky every day.

His companions took great care in assisting him – as without his dominant arm, he struggled with menial tasks. Sera braided his hair; trailing it down his back and whisking it over his shoulder. Dorian, although not a fan of laborious work, helped the Inquisitor relearning his magical mastery. Vivienne oversaw the progression of the Mark. Blackwall taught him to ride horseback once more – which Mahanon dreaded without usage of his arms, but ultimately found purchase in learning how to maneuver his steed with one arm.

          Iron Bull was the most devout in the aftermath of the Inquisitor’s forceful amputation. He waited on hand and knee when the Inquisitor was recovering from the aftermath. Mahanon would wake to find himself dressed, bathed, and even being fed gingerly from Iron Bull’s calloused, yet gentle hand. The Inquisitor wasn’t used to bedside manner, let alone a Qunari at his becking call, and shamelessly he took full advantage of it. Iron Bull didn’t seem to mind, or complain, and the lumbering warrior treated him like a prince locked in a faraway tower. Secretly, Mahanon became giddy when Iron Bull brought him dinner, or clumsily tried to rebraid his hair, or cleaned his quarters. Before all this, their relationship was friendly, sometimes passionate once the Inquisitor doubled his body weight in ale.

          Their would-be sex life came to a cease once the Inquisitor was left on the teetering line between life and death. He could hardly raise his body off the bed, let alone wrap his legs around his lover. Not to mention that he was in excruciating pain, day in and day out, much to the healer’s and Dorian’s magical mending. Iron Bull sat through it all; the screams, the delirium, and the solemn quietness. Mahanon was sedated for most of the recovery period, but he remembered fondly the lips on his forehead, or the calming circles rubbed into his other hand. Through it all, Iron Bull waited at his bedside till the morning the Inquisitor woke up.

 It was many weeks after the amputation before Mahanon could muster a kiss, let alone a hug, and dare-say a moan. Rehabilitation was the goal for the Inquisitor as he slowly learned to live with his new condition. Iron Bull understood, as he always did, and gave Mahanon the time to recuperate.

          The Inquisitor missed their sex, truly, because it was the sex that he couldn’t get anywhere else. It was hot, devious in nature, and awfully hedonist of him to participate in. Whether it was sneaky rendezvous behind the stable, or pinned against the war table, or Mahanon’s favorite, in bed with burly arms tightened around his body, he couldn’t get enough of it. Before the Conclave, Mahanon was as fresh and innocent as spring, not knowing the ins-and-outs of romance let alone sex. He didn’t know how to kiss, well at least not other people, and he was clumsy enough flirting with Iron Bul. The Qunari was his first encounter and shamelessly, the Inquisitor didn’t want any other kind of sex but with Iron Bull. He was sensual, but sometimes cruel. He strung Mahanon like a lute, and the Inquisitor played his notes faithfully.

          Elsewhere, Skyhold was quiet as in the night, only the crackling of hearths warmed the air and hushed snores filled the halls. Mahanon’s council retired to bed as their days was filled with the duties he was supposed to be performing. He couldn’t help but remain attentive at the war table – eyeing the various marks and notes left behind by Leliana. His fingers traced over the raised notches in the map. His journeys across Thedas had been marked, circled, or had a dagger stabbed through the map. He reminisced the cool breezes of the Hinterlands, the aromas and perfumes of Val Royeaux, and the stillness of the Emerald Graves. He stopped as heard heavy boots on the hardened floor. He looked up from the table just as Iron Bull bent down to enter the war room.

          The frame of the chamber door was of an average size, at least for Mahanon as he was smaller than most, but even Cullen had bumped his head a few times.

          “Kadan.”, Iron Bull greeted, seemingly surprised the Inquisitor was up. “Did you forget? It’s late.”

          The Inquisitor took a look to the painted glass pane eclipsing the war room. The moon was up high, obscured by the swirls of blues and greens of the window, and night birds had begun to crow. The dimming candles had lazy drools of melted wax running down the sides. Mahanon hadn’t realized the night became so late or the morning so early. He stepped away from the war table begrudgingly.

          “No, I couldn’t sleep.”, the Inquisitor smoothly lied. “Had a lot on my mind.”

          Iron Bull huffed and leaned against the doorpost. He eyed the Inquisitor with a cynical, but understanding look. Mahanon looked away bashfully as under Iron Bull’s stare, he knew when he was being second-guessed. The elven Inquisitor came from across the table and met the Iron Bull at the doorway. His bulky arm blocked Mahanon’s way and the Inquisitor gave him a glare.

          “Okay, okay, I’ll go to bed.”, the Inquisitor quipped. “Don’t need you tattling on me later.”
          The grey, burly arm alleviated away from the doorpost and Mahanon was allowed to pass, or so he thought, as out the war room he felt himself lifted unceremoniously. He yelped, surprised, and grappled his arm around the Iron Bull’s horn as he needed something to ground him. His lover laughed heartily, and the hallway vibrated with his throaty laugh. The Inquisitor became flushed and his legs dangled helplessly off the Iron Bull’s back.

          “Put me down.”, Mahanon hissed as they began to pass through the throne room. “Someone is going to hear us!”

          “They won’t.”, Iron Bull beamed. “If they do, well, we’ll say it was the mice.”

          “Oh you’re so full of shit, y’know?”, the Inquisitor gritted as he struggled upon the Qunari’s shoulder. “We cant do this…I have to work in the morning—!”

          In response, Iron Bull swatted the Inquisitor’s rear end and the slap was loud.  Surely, if someone was lurking the hallway for a would-be midnight snack, they would’ve heard the heated slap to the Inquisitor’s bottom. Mahanon bit back a yowl as the Iron Bull carried him closer to his quarters. He fretted as soon as his chamber door opened with a noisy creak and he was dropped headfirst into his bed. He struggled to regain his posture without the aid of his other arm, but it was short lived as Iron Bull flipped him onto his back with a smooth flip.

          The Inquisitor huffed as he was staring up at his ceiling, then Iron Bull hovered over him with a smirk that made Mahanon groan. Words hadn’t needed to be exchanged in this moment, not with hedonism promised, but Iron Bull was never a taker without permission. He stood back from the Inquisitor and stood, almost puppy-eyed, and the Inquisitor sighed.

          “I’ll need to be able to walk in the morning.”, Mahanon argued. “And be coherent.”

          Iron Bull held a snicker behind his finger as he began to disrobe from his armor. He was agonizingly slow, much to the Inquisitor’s dislike, as the pieces of armor fell to the floor in noisy ‘thunks’. The Qunari was a specimen to behold; muscles primed and made battle-hardened from years of warmongering. His greyed skin was shined, like the glittering armor pieces he wore, and Mahanon could make out veins trailing like lightning strikes. The striking black tattoos etched from his shoulders, to his chest, and down his arms glistened. His horns grew upright, but the tips tapered as Iron Bull found it safer to keep the points rounded. He stepped out of his boots and while the Inquisitor eyed him hungrily.  The Iron Bull took his sweet time pulling down the heavy belt to his greaves.

          The Inquisitor tried to undress himself as his lover teased him, but without aid of his other arm, he fumbled with the various laces and buttons of his tunic. Unfruitful in his attempt to disrobe, he was left frustrated just as Iron Bull dropped his greaves around his ankles. Mahanon swallowed as he took in not just the physique of his lover, but the intensity of his flaccid flesh between his thighs. As many times as they’d been intimate, it was a sight to behold regardless.

          “Ah…”, the Inquisitor’s bottom lip dropped. “I’m sure Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen can handle themselves in the morning.”

          Iron Bull bellowed in laughter as he stripped his hands out from his grieves. Fully nude, he stalked to stand between the Inquisitor’s legs. His thighs alone dwarfed the elf’s slender legs as strong hands pulled them around his hips. The Inquisitor felt a prang of excitement shoot down his spine as well as warmness swelling in his trousers. His clothing was suffocating enough, but it was Iron Bull’s gentle, yet calculated fingers undoing the laces, buttons, and strings of his insufferable tunic. His calloused hand brushed a feathery light nipple and the Inquisitor bowed inward, his head underneath his lover’s chin.

          “It’s been a while for us, hm.”, Iron Bull commented, reveling in how the Inquisitor crooned underneath him. “What? Months? A year?”

          Mahanon couldn’t remember the last time Iron Bull was between his legs, or mounting him from behind, let alone laying soft kisses to his brow. With everything that’d happened, Mahanon had grown out-of-touch with Iron Bull, amongst other things. The Inquisitor sighed once he felt his tunic off his chest. The coolness of the night was a welcomed relief to the heat blossoming off his flesh. Those loving, hefty hands traveled downwards to relieve Mahanon out of the confinements of his pants and undergarments. In one swift motion, his pants pooled towards his feet, and he slyly pulled his legs from around the Iron Bull to have them drop on the floor. His boots came next and his toes flexed and curled. Fully exposed to the Qunari, he was dwarfed thrice-sized as well as emasculated by his primed physique.

          Iron Bull huffed against the shell of the Inquisitor’s pointed ear and Mahanon felt as if he could melt then. He slid his arm around the Qunari’s thick neck and braced himself as his horned lover began to lap, nip, and suckle at his earlobe. Roving lips found purchase into the skin of his neck, sucking marks and leaving Mahanon breathless. Then they returned to his ear. He needed this, and he’d be damned if it were to stop.

However, his fear came true as the lips licking his ear discontinued their loving circles. The Inquisitor made a grunt under his breath as the Iron Bull had him lay back against the bed.

          Mahanon stared at him from between his legs as they were made to lay flat against the feathered mattress. He pricked up his eyebrows as his sex laid unattended in the crevice of his thigh. Iron Bull knelt – his chest towering over the side of the bed. He dragged the little Inquisitor backwards just a bit and instinctively, Mahanon hooked his feet behind the Qunari’s neck. A wicked smile crinkled his face as the Iron Bull marveled the softness between his thighs with his calloused fingers. Practically hairless, the Inquisitor felt like a slicked seal fresh out from the ocean. His thumb pad pressed the space underneath the Inquisitor’s manhood and the elf was left gasping at the pressure.

          “Kadan.”, Iron Bull lulled. “Are you listening? Hm?”

          The Inquisitor made a noise that was neither a moan or a cry, but rather a chirp as he stared at his lover between his legs. The Qunari was an expert in winding Mahanon up like a children’s toy, but he was exceptionally cruel how he teased the Inquisitor so.

          “Do you remember our watchword?”, Iron Bull began to flick and prod the soft spot between the Inquisitor’s scrotum.

          Mahanon squeezed his thighs together and a breathy sigh escaped his lips. Iron Bull reminded him every time they decided to make love – their watchword, katoh, was only to be used when the Inquisitor was uncomfortable or needed their lovemaking to cease. He hadn’t used it yet as Iron Bull was an attentive lover, always careful to take heed of the Inquisitor’s demeanor. He parted his lips to ghost the foreign word over his tongue as Iron Bull eyed him.

          “Katoh…”, Mahanon whispered. “Always katoh.”

          Iron Bull smirked and his fingers left, but his mouth engulfed Mahanon’s lonely cock in a hot, almost sweltering heat. The Inquisitor bowed his back off the bed as he couldn’t help but to keen loudly, enough so that the birds roosting outside the window flew away. His chest felt tight as Iron Bull ravished his sex in a serious of laps and sucks. No where was Mahanon well-endowed, as with his elven lineage, he was physically destined to be small. Iron Bull took him in his mouth as easily as throating ale. The Inquisitor kept his eyes screwed tight and his hand strangled the velvet bedspread underneath him.

          As it couldn’t be anymore sinful, the Iron Bull slobbered and drunk from Mahanon. The Inquisitor was at the mercy of his lover as he couldn’t wiggle free or could push him back. Though it was torture, it was the lustful, devilish romance Mahanon had been craving for a long time. He threw his head over to the side and panted much of his arousal to the delight of Iron Bull. His hands gripped the elf underneath his buttocks and kept the Inquisitor still. He continued to suck, hollowing his cheeks out, and rendering Mahanon helpless in a calamity of moans and pleas.

          “Oh…fuck…”, Mahanon drawled. “Oh…..”

          The heat encasing his cock was chilled by the night’s air as Iron Bull disengaged, licking his scarred lips, and studying how quickly the Inquisitor had became wanton. Brought nearly to the cusp of orgasm, Mahanon was frustrated and scowled down at the Iron Bull. The Qunari grinned from ear to ear and ducked his head lower between the elf’s legs. The Inquisitor was surprised once more as he felt a hot tongue swerve across his opening. He shivered, sighed, and ultimately his scowl sprouted into a smile. He secretly enjoyed when the Iron Bull ate him like this; swirling his tongue around his hole till it was dripping and sloppy. Without abandon, the Iron Bull licked and slurped the ring of flesh presented to him as the Inquisitor could only howl his delight. His thighs couldn’t help but shiver and constrict as the Qunari held them high up above his head.

The Iron Bull’s tongue prodded Mahanon’s asshole and dipped inside momentarily, before retreating to lap around it again. In this vantage point, the Iron Bull could suckle and eat out the Inquisitor without delay. At this point, the Inquisitor was nearly sent over as the hands resting underneath on his thighs was unrelenting in their stalwart hold.

          “Fuck…”, the Inquisitor cursed, flailing his arm down between his legs to cusp his scrotum. “Please don’t stop…”

          The Qunari obliged and from his throat, a deep, riveting hum echoed upwards. Mahanon couldn’t take it anymore as the combination of that searing tongue working him open, his tight grip on his scrotum, and his neediness fully pushed him off the precipice. His orgasm came in sloppy, drooling streams against his stomach and partially his thigh. The Iron Bull stopped just as the crashing waves of Mahanon’s orgasm tightened him up. He looked up to his smaller lover with a glint of something wicked in his eye. He was up again on his feet and staring down at Mahanon.

          “Kadan.”, the Iron Bull huffed as his own formidable member was upright and needy. “Come back to me, now.”

          Mahanon rode the last of his orgasm with his lips parted and cheeks tinted rouge. He dreamily stared at the Iron Bull underneath a canopy of light-brown eyelashes. There was no words to say other than the debaucherously dirty ones Mahanon was beginning to conjure.

Seemingly approving of Mahanon’s look, the Iron Bull held his weeping member in his hand. His strokes were long and practiced, unlike Mahanon who could only feverishly fondle his flushed cock clumsily. Iron Bull seemed not to mind as the wanton nymph of a man underneath him was more alluring than any visage he’d seen before. The Qunari’s cock was tinted dark purple near the slightly flared head. The foreskin rolled back to reveal the thickening spittle forming over his slit. The vein splitting the underside of his cock was a thickened root seemingly thrumming at the Iron Bull’s ministrations. Mahanon felt his toes curl just as another orgasm threatened to shoot his essence, but it was short-lived as the Iron Bull’s giant hand swathed over his hand and hard member.

          The Inquisitor let out a confused grunt, before relaxing with a soft moan as the Iron Bull stroked the both of them. Their cocks battled in a combination of heat, friction, and wetness. In comparison, Mahanon had nothing against the Iron Bull’s thick cock. His warm-colored, willowy member was engulfed by the sheer intensity of his lover’s sex. In a few, tight strokes Mahanon’s cock salivated cum in the Iron Bull’s fist. He, however, did not spend himself, but rather, loosened his vice grip over their cocks. He bent over Mahanon to lick the cooling cum pooled over his bellybutton. The act of it made the Inquisitor feel dirty, but the Qunari between his legs hummed in delight. Once Mahanon’s belly was clear of his cum, the Iron Bull stood upright again.

          “On your back, or your stomach?”, a question the Inquisitor hadn’t heard in a while and it made his cock sprout up again.

          His lips trembled and his mind was left in a heated daze. Either way, he was going to be fucked in whichever way the Iron Bull liked. However, his preference was to be on his stomach. Without his other arm to secure his arch, it was up to the Iron Bull to keep Mahanon against the bed. As if he was reading the Inquisitor’s mind, Iron Bull lead the elf’s legs back down, then flipped him ungraciously onto his stomach. Mahanon only let out a snort as the velvet around him shifted. Behind him, the bed sunk with the weight of Iron Bull’s knees on it. The elf lowered his face and used his stump of an arm as a bit of a brace while his other arm was stretched underneath him. His ass felt the chill of the wind whispering from the open balcony. The Iron Bull palmed Mahanon’s back to lower him further with only his ass touching the Qunari’s thighs.

          He felt the full extent of the Qunari’s hardness between the globes of his ass. His ball sack sat at the back of his thigh; thumping, throbbing, and signaling their need to fill up the little elf. The Inquisitor held his babbling in by drowning himself into the sheets just as the Iron Bull rutted and humped his monster cock against his twitching hole. It had been a while as Mahanon couldn’t recall the last time he was this aroused. The Iron Bull must’ve made himself chaste during the Inquisitor’s recovery, and it was evident to how heavy his balls felt against the back of his thigh.

          The head of the Qunari’s cock would sometimes brush against his asshole teasingly. Mahanon was growing frustrated in the anticipation of having that steaming cock up his rear. He humped back in an attempt to have the cock enter him that way, but to no avail, only making himself and his lover more aroused.

          “What are you waiting for?”, Mahanon gritted, throwing the Iron Bull a wayward glare. His loosened braid hid the ferociousness of his glare, but it was his body that screamed the loudest for the attention. “Fuck this hole like you mean it.”

          The request was granted by such a heavy slap against Mahanon’s ass cheeks he couldn’t help but screech. All of Skyhold had to be awoken to Mahanon’s noises, but he no longer cared. The bed was relieved of weight for a moment as behind him, the Iron Bull began to shuffle around the various drawers around the room. The Inquisitor waited on bated breath as the Iron Bull came back to hover over him. His coarse beard brushed past Mahanon’s cheek and he murmured something in Qun. The Inquisitor didn’t understand, but cooed loudly as he felt something cool, jelly-like against the Iron Bull’s finger at his wanting asshole.

          Thank you, Val Royeaux. The Inquisitor thought as the Iron Bull had made frequent trips to the pillow houses of the vast city-state; acquiring every nature of delights.

His fingers drove in deep and spread him apart like what the Mark did to the various tears in the world. The blunt tips of Iron Bull’s fingers scrapped against the elf’s sweetly tender spot and inadvertently, caused him to buckle and fall flat against the bed. He buckled back against the fingers prodding his ass and his cock became heavy and ripe. His frantic humping earned him several thicker fingers to spread him open. The Iron Bull laughed behind him, and retrieved his slick fingers out of the Inquisitor’s ass.

          “So good for me, Kadan.”, the Iron Bull praised. “Look at that arch on you.”

          The praise sent a shockwave down Mahanon’s spine and it made his cock weep into the velvet bedspread. Praises be demanded, the Inquisitor desperately needed to be filled to the brim. His ass was as high as he could muster without the once familiar usage of his arm. The Iron Bull weighed the bed down once more to line himself up against Mahanon’s entrance. The head itself brushed the tightened ring of his asshole, but the Inquisitor couldn’t help but buckle and wiggle away. Yet, the Iron Bull would not allow him to run away, instead, he slowly began to press inside.

          “Shit….”, the Inquisitor commented, feeling himself beginning to accommodate such a girth within him. “Oh I can’t do this…”

          The Qunari mounting him hushed him just as the head made it inside, racking a shrill from the elf, and a groan from his own lips. For a few moments, the Iron Bull remained still, calculating how the elf underneath him writhed. Painfully slow, the Iron Bull roved his hips towards the Inquisitor. Something snapped within Mahanon and he was truly lost to the pleasure. He babbled incoherently and threw his arm back to grasp at the Iron Bull’s hands bruising his slender hips. More of that gargantuan, girthy Qunari cock became sheathed into his ass until only his balls was against his plump ass. The elven Inquisitor could only muffle his salacious whimpering into the bed as the Iron Bull snapped his hips at him.

          Another slap on his ass sent Mahanon seeing stars as with every thrust of the Iron Bull’s strengthen hips had that tender spot in his ass sending fireworks. He couldn’t keep up with the pace either as it was brutal, earth-shattering, and sprouting reddened marks onto his ass and hips. Behind him, Iron Bull was grunting passionately as he focused in drilling into the elf underneath him. He kicked one of his legs onto the bed to gain an upper advantage on the Inquisitor and his cock reached far deeper inside him. The Inquisitor was a mess; salvia frothing out his mouth, his tawny skin flushed, and his cock bobbing helplessly to the onslaught of Qunari cock up his ass. Iron Bull’s other hand found solace cusping at his chest whilst nipples became taut as fingers roughly molested them.

          “You’re doing so well, Kadan.”, the Iron Bull huffed down at the Inquisitor. “Taking my big, fat Qunari cock up your little hole.”

          Mahanon came again with his seed leaving sloppy streaks onto the dark velvet underneath him. The Iron Bull was stringing him like the infamous lute he could be. The degradation, the hand on his chest, and the cock up his ass was doing a fair job in unraveling him. The sweat between them made their flesh slap nosily and the musk in the room was hot and heavy. Mahanon was shaking like a leaf and only the gods know what he looked like now, disheveled, being screwed out of his mind.

          “Tell me how much you love being fucked like this.”, there was a growl behind that comment as Mahanon pathetically whimpered. “Tell me how much you like to be mounted and bred.”

          The Inquisitor couldn’t formulate thoughts, let alone coherent words as the brutal fucking happening to his ass sent him into another realm. He could only babble, sputter, and keen as the Iron Bull made his quivering hole constrict with another orgasm. However, the Qunari above him slowed down until he was hardly stroking the bundle of nerves inside Mahanon. The Inquisitor let out an angry snort with flared nostrils as he threw his head to the side. The Iron Bull smirked as he was going to be answered, regardless of how much Mahanon wanted to be fucked.

          “I…”, the Inquisitor’s lips began to quiver. “Don’t make me say it out loud…please…don’t make me say it…”

          The Iron Bull would have none of it as he landed a hearty slap to the Inquisitor’s sore ass. Mahanon gritted and swallowed his pride at the cost of needing that cock ravaging his insides.

          “I love how you fuck me...”, Mahanon cried. “I love how your cock spreads me apart like the slut I am.”

          “I need you to fill my ass up...paint my insides…plug my hole…”

          “Mmm, Kadan…”, the Iron Bull started to thrust his hips again. “Keep talkin’.”

          The Iron Bull resumed his steeled thrusts into the elf and Mahanon couldn’t help but roll his eyes. His asshole was pounded to the point he knew he would have trouble sitting for at least a week, if not longer with how the Iron Bull upped the power in his strokes. The hand that groped his chest left to find itself tangled into his forgotten braid. The grip tightened and Mahanon was suddenly forced to look towards the balcony as the Iron Bull held his hair like a horse’s rein. The Inquisitor’s tongue rolled out his mouth and he panted profusely not seeming to catch a breath. His ass slapped against the Iron Bull’s sweat slicked thighs.

          “I can’t do this anymore…”, the Inquisitor sobbed, snot rolling out his nose freely. “Your fat cock is stretching my hole apart!”

          The Iron Bull roared and tugged the Inquisitor’s hair even harder while forcing the lithe man to have his back against the Qunari’s chest. Mahanon could only grip the back of the Qunari’s thigh as he was being rocked forcefully from behind. His cock couldn’t sputter anymore, but angrily wept and remained bright red. His lover was close to completion as he was bent over the elf to lay sloppy, saliva-slick kisses down Mahanon’s face. The act of it made Mahanon coo and rest his head against the chest behind him. He felt the Iron Bull’s cock shudder within him and the overwhelming feeling of wetness ruptured in his bowels. The Inquisitor could only laugh softly as he was being stuffed with the Iron Bull’s thick seed. The Qunari buckled his hips to force the lasting ropes of cum out his heady cock.

          The Inquisitor was laid back down onto his stomach just as the Iron Bull dipped his spent cock out of his hole with a wet ‘pop’. He heard the Qunari chuckle and felt fingers circle his lax hole. Mahanon looked back in a daze just as his lower half rested on the Iron Bull’s thighs.

          “Ah, your hole is winking at me.”, he commented, showing how slick his fingers were of cum, jelly, and Mahanon’s essence. “All of my cum is coming out your little hole.”

          “…I love you…”, the Inquisitor grumbled. “…so…”

          “Sure, Kadan.”, the Iron Bull relayed. “Now will you go to sleep?”

          Mahanon smiled, but he couldn’t muster any more words. He was relaxed against the bed as the Iron Bull lovingly scooped cum back into his gaping asshole. He was beyond exhausted and could fall asleep without protest. If the Iron Bull wanted to continue for a second round, it would have to be while Mahanon was sleep because his eyelids were heavy with drowsiness. With the warmness of his arousal cooling, conditions were met for a night’s rest. The Qunari behind him rubbed calming circles into the small of his back, but the Inquisitor already had been lulled to sleep.

 


 

          When Mahanon woke again, it wasn’t with his ass being stuffed with cock, but rather sunlight warming his face and the morning birds chirping their songs. The smell of hot bread and meat roasting wafted from underneath the door, and the familiar embrace of velvet around his body soothed him. He reluctantly opened his eyes to see his chambers, now illuminated by the daylight, but empty of anyone other than himself. He rose, looked over, and was discouraged by the lack of Qunari in his bed. He threw the velvet bedspread off him and tiptoed into his slippers. Behind his divider, a warmed bath waited for him with scented notes of persimmons and apricot. He welcomed the bath and had no need to undress; Iron Bull did that task. Once in the water, he was soothed and bathed from the previous night’s reminder. His hole still felt sore, as it would be for several days, but it was a good kind of sore. Cum remained fresh within him and he fingered most of it out – reluctantly, as if he had a choice, he’d keep it inside him all day.

          He didn’t bathe for long as he heard knocking at the door. He granted permission to whomever was at the door; only finding it to be Josephine with a bundle of fresh clothes in her hands. Mahanon sighed and left the bathtub and covered himself behind the divider just as Josephine gave him his new clothes.

          “You’re wide-eyed and bushy tailed this morning, Inquisitor.”, the diplomat commented as she witnessed Mahanon dress himself without her assistance. The buttons on the shirt required her help, of course, and the rolling up of his sleeve as well. His hair still required her tender brushing and styling, as Sera wasn’t an early riser but it could not be helped. Yet, the trousers and boots were equipped without a complaint.

          “I finally got some sleep.”, Mahanon replied. “More than a good sleep.”

          Josephine glittered at the news. Once Mahanon was dressed, she escorted him out from his chambers, across the throne room, and finally into the war room. Along the way, she relayed the business of the day, but Mahanon couldn’t help but drift his mind back to the sex with the Iron Bull last night. The tips of his ear became pinkish and Josephine noticed.

          “Are you feeling unwell, Inquisitor?”, she was clueless, of course, and Mahanon shook his head.

          With her curiosity into his health subsided, they entered the war room with Leliana and now Cassandara flanking it on either side. He greeted them both and took his stance at the head of the table. Both of his advisors began to relay what Josephine chattered along the way. He listened dutifully, for the most part, but he couldn’t help but wander his eyes towards the window. Underneath them, Cullen drilled the newest squires in a series of torturous routines as Iron Bull and Blackwall looked on. As if the Iron Bull had eyes on the back of his skull, he glanced up to see the Inquisitor look at him. He toothily smiled and the Inquisitor was fully engulfed in a blush.

          Josephine became fretful once she noticed Mahanon’s full blush, but Cassandra and Leliana shared a knowing glance to one another. They wouldn’t bring Mahanon’s romantic life to life with their whispers, but the Inquisitor did his best to shield his blush and continue with business. He would have to investigate making a routine of this, at least for the near future, but the Iron Bull was going to make his return to normalcy even more rejuvenating.