[sandbox]

[bringspeopletogether]

No Orlesian nobles pounded down their door to demand their hound back, so when Alistair and Cullen left Halamshiral, the newly-dubbed Gruyere happily trotted alongside their horses.

A few weeks after -- which included some quiet conversation, a few orders placed with a few merchants, and almost an entire extra pack of gifts slung over one of their mounts -- Gru just as happily trotted along as they turned for South Reach.

Years of correspondence led Alistair to build an elaborate image of Cullen's family in his mind; Mia, perhaps, more fully realized than the others, but everyone with a name and a voice to match their letters. They're...not wholly inaccurate? But Mia's definitely shorter than he expected, and one or two of the children a little louder.

(Mia's voice, however, adopts exactly the pitch he imagined it would when Alistair brings up the whole I'm-your-brother-in-law-now thing.)

It's a nice place. Just the right kind of rambunctious, with all the kids running around; just the right kind of homey.

If only Cullen weren't -- well, reacting more or less precisely how Alistair worried he'd react to the reunion.

Comments

[bringspeopletogether]

"...I am not going to say anything lewd like 'I'll appreciate you all night long.'"

Grinning against Cullen's neck.

"But I'm thinking it."

[howtoactfereldan]

Affronted, in the manner of a scandalized spinster:

"I should certainly hope so."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Hope that I'm thinking it, or that I'm not saying it?"

Another kiss a little further up Cullen's neck.

[howtoactfereldan]

"That you're thinking it, of course." Cullen digs his nails lightly into Alistair's back. "Mm. Believe I just said something about it being nice to be appreciated."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair shivers.

"So you did." Only a little strangled. He hooks an ankle around Cullen's leg. "And how much would you like to be appreciated tonight?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen growls in his ear:

"Quit asking me what I want, Theirin."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair breaks into laughter. "Sorry, sorry -- "

He shifts, rolling them both to the side until he's on top of Cullen.

"My deepest apologies, ser."

[howtoactfereldan]

"I don't think you're sorry at all," Cullen informs him, grinning.

[bringspeopletogether]

"But I am," he says, all wide-eyed innocence that runs completely counter to his hands delving beneath Cullen's shirt. "I suppose you could make sure I'm very, very sorry, though."

[howtoactfereldan]

He starts fiddling with the ties of Alistair's trousers. "I could. But I suspect -- "

Cullen pokes Alistair's belly.

"That's just another way you're asking me what I want."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair squirms; he may not squeak, but his laughter peaks higher for an instant.

"You've seen right through my nefarious scheme." Scraping his nails lightly down Cullen's sides, he leans in to kiss him; when it breaks, he goes on in a low murmur. "How about this: I want you to have your way with me. I'm yours."

(This time, having learned his lesson, he does not say always.)

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen takes in a breath, eyes closing.

"So... you want me... to tell you... what I want."

[bringspeopletogether]

"I could have my way with you?"

Flushing red, a little, but still grinning.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen is also grinning, lazy. He looks up at Alistair, eyes half-lidded.

"I have no objections."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Right then." Sheepish, but cheerful.

Without a moment's hesitation, Alistair straddles Cullen more comfortably and strips off his husband's shirt.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen does his best to wriggle helpfully.

"You mentioned something about rope, once," he remarks, idle.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair's mind whites out very pleasantly, his fingers stuttering at the laces of Cullen's trousers.

"So I did." A touch weakly. As he returns to himself, he smirks down at Cullen. "Might have to get out of bed to find some."

[howtoactfereldan]

"If you want," Cullen says, doing it best to make it clear that he is actively trying to be a shithead.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair snorts.

"Terrible," he informs Cullen, and punctuates it with another thorough kiss. (And another light scratch just below Cullen's navel.) Reluctantly scooting off of him: "I won't be long."

There ought to be an extra bundle of rope in his pack somewhere.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen shivers, and does his best to hide it.

He pushes himself up, leaning back on his palms. "I, ah -- might have been... listening to Bull talk about this sort of thing."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair looks up from his pack, eyebrows nearly to his hairline. "Really."

No hope of hiding his smirk now.

"Did he offer any suggestions?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"Not... directly." Cullen is decidedly pink. "Let's just not cut off the bloodflow to my hands, please?"

[bringspeopletogether]

The smirk softens. "Of course," he agrees. "No need to worry about that."

Ah-hah! There it is. Rope in hand, Alistair sauinters back to the bed, looking rather like a cat stalking its prey.

"I'd be interested in...anything else Bull might have said about it."

[howtoactfereldan]

I will not look nervous, Cullen thinks, and tilts his head to the side.

"You could ask him yourself," he says, not even trying to sound anything other than bratty.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair stifles another laugh. He kneels on the bed, straddling Cullen again.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather tell me yourself?" he inquires, politely, as he begins unwinding the rope.