[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]

Bound, leashed, and blushing. Yes, Alistair decides, that would look quite nice indeed.

"Mm. Well." He catches one of Cullen's hands; carefully begins to wind the rope around his wrist. "Right now I expect I'lll take you in my mouth a while. Make sure you're nice and hard before I fuck you properly, just in case I decide I'd rather ride you for a bit instead. Damned shame if I wanted to switch and you weren't ready, after all."

The corner of his mouth curls again.

"Unless you're wondering what I'd do with you outside our bed?"

[howtoactfereldan]

Well. That's certainly enough to get Cullen to spring to attention. Alistair had better not delay in getting his trousers off.

He nudges up against Alistair to make sure he gets the message. Higher-pitched than he'd like: "That's good too."

[bringspeopletogether]

Perfect.

Unfortunately, because Alistair is history's greatest monster, he merely rocks his hips against Cullen's, smirk broadening, before tightening the rope around his wrist. (Not too tight.)

"What if," he says, low, "I led you through town like this? Your hands bound; me holding the rope. Like you were my pet. I'd command you to follow behind me to show them how well you behaved."

The headboard has a loose slat near the top. Alistair threads the rope through it, pulling Cullen's arm above his head.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen's still got an arm free; he lightly touches Alistair's elbow.

Quiet, a little (only a little) regretful, he says, "Back to the other thing would be better. I'm -- just for you."

It's -- it's the shame. It would be one thing if they were admiring him, praising Alistair. But the shame --

[bringspeopletogether]

Ah.

Alistair's demeanor softens; he catches Cullen's hand, giving it an apologetic squeeze. "All right," he murmurs.

He follows that with a gentle kiss.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen cradles Alistair's cheek as best he can with his one hand, leaning into it. I'm still in this, he wants to say. I'm still here.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair breaks the kiss with a soft sigh -- and a soft smile as he regards Cullen. He smooths a hand over his hair.

And then, gently but firmly, he grasps Cullen's free wrist to bring his other arm over his head as well.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen would do -- well. A lot. He'd do a lot to have Alistair look at him like that.

He bites his lower lip as Alistair works, holding still. Being obedient. His heart might be pounding loud enough for Alistair to hear it; that's what it feels like, anyway

[bringspeopletogether]

"There we are," he murmurs once Cullen's other wrist is bound to the headboard. He sits back a moment, admiring his work -- admiring how Cullen looks, half-naked, arms trussed above his head. "Good man."

He'd definitely look better full-naked, Alistair decides.

So finally -- mercifully -- he finishes undoing the laces of Cullen's trousers, working them (and Cullen) free.

[howtoactfereldan]

A small sigh of relief. He runs his tongue briefly over his lip, where his teeth had purchase -- and laughs, softly. (A little self-consciously.)

"Well, Theirin?" Low. Throaty.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Mm."

With a wicked smile, he eases further down the bed, taking Cullen in hand...and then, as promised, in his mouth, licking a long stripe from base to tip.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen hisses, sharply -- and then curses, as the bed jerks.

He'd wanted -- he'd wanted -- to sink his fingers into Alistair's hair. He tried.

He's bound.

"Oh dear." There's a slight edge of hysteria to his laughter. "I seem to be immobilized, Alistair."

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair stops for a moment, resting his chin on Cullen's belly.

"You are?" he asks, mildly. "Oh, dear. Whatever shall we do."

Struggling not to grin, he returns to work with a vengeance.

[howtoactfereldan]

And at first, Cullen is too caught up in how to properly participate with his hands unavailable to take the opportunity in front of him. But then, breathing going ragged, he sees Alistair at work.

Alistair's lips gone swollen, and wet, and red.

Alistair preparing Cullen for his own use, to his own liking, to his own standards. Alistair giving him the gift of being able to serve. To please.

His own mouth hangs open as he struggles to keep his hips from pumping; Alistair will expect discipline from him. Some self-restraint to go with the actual restraint.

And when the feel of Alistair's tongue is so nearly too much to bear --

"Stop, stop if you want me, I'll come, I'm coming -- "

[bringspeopletogether]

The instant the word stop is out of Cullen's mouth, Alistair stops. He looks up with a flash of concern -- but when it becomes clear that nothing's wrong (rather the opposite, really), he laughs, softly, and runs his hands over Cullen's hips.

"I do want you." He kisses Cullen's belly. "In a moment. Let me find the oil."

He should have thought of that while he was digging out the rope, but his mind was a little preoccupied at the time. Rising from the bed, he finally shucks off his own trousers and returns to his pack.

[howtoactfereldan]

He closes his eyes and shudders, heart pounding.

(This means, alas, he misses the view.)

Plaintive: "You won't be long?"

[bringspeopletogether]

Warmly amused, from across the room: "Not long at all, love."

The bed sinks as he kneels on it again, vial of oil in hand. He keeps it cradled against his palm as he cups the backs of Cullen's thighs.

"Legs up," he instructs.

[howtoactfereldan]

Another small shudder. It's not unpleasant.

"At your order," Cullen murmurs, and obeys.

[bringspeopletogether]

That garners a pleased chuckle. He caresses Cullen's legs before drawing his hands away.

Alistair uncaps the vial. Oil for himself; some for Cullen as well, gently exploring and teasing with his fingers. A little more. A little closer.

Then -- slowly, carefully -- he guides himself in.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen's back arches. His breath, which he'd done a fair job of bringing under his control, catches sharp in his throat.

He's got to be calm. Calm. Relax into it. Because once he does --

"All right." His voice only shakes a little bit. Cullen's eyes are still closed -- but he's smiling, just a little, disbelieving. "Yes. Oh, yes."

[bringspeopletogether]

Even with Cullen relaxed, he surrounds Alistair tight and hot. Alistair has to dig his fingers into the bedsheets to keep his own composure; he exhales a shaky breath that nearly tips into a moan by the end.

"Yes," he echoes, barely thinking. He presses his hips forward an extra inch; another. "Maker."

He fights to regain enough of his faculties to keep talking.

"If you could see yourself, love. Laid out for me like this. Ready for me." A breath of laughter. "You're beautiful."

[howtoactfereldan]

Contrary to literally every other time Alistair has said this... Cullen seems to believe it. Not even trying to catch his breath, Cullen still smiles, small and bright.

His fingers twist and clench: it's helping, to take away the option to push Alistair or himself away, but at the same time it's maddening that Cullen can't touch him.

"Please." It takes a moment for him to form the word. "Ready. I'm ready. please."

[bringspeopletogether]

That smile. As if Cullen weren't beautiful enough already; as if Alistair wasn't having a hard enough time catching his own breath.

"Yes," he manages. As he sinks the rest of the way in, he grabs the headboard with one hand, just above where Cullen's tied fast. "Well done."

And using the extra leverage, he starts up an unhurried, steady rhythm.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen takes in a great shaky breath. As Alistair moves, Cullen's exhale turns into soft moans. "Alistair," he manages, head thrown back, throat bare. "Alistair. Please. Yes. Yes."

He hadn't expected --

Nothing about the sensation is easy. But he hadn't expected it to -- feel so easy.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Good." Breathless; shaky. "Yes. Good."

He bends to nip at Cullen's neck, quick and sharp, without breaking his rhythm.

"Just like that, love. Ah -- " His grip tightens on the headboard. "Yes. You're doing so well -- "