Little But Not Less | ✓

Short, and Infinitely Sweet

The music from the celebrations trickled up the stony stairs, but Gael and Dorian were too preoccupied with each other to hear it. Gael's melodic laugh floated upwards, filling the room with his timbre. Dorian's heart was seized when Gael slipped his slender finger under the buckle of his leather bodice, tugging him firmly towards him. The two kissed, mouths and tongue hungry, before allowing their bodies to fall onto the Inquisitor's large, velvety bed.

The two felt and embraced each other with frenzied, shaking hands; to touch each other was to confirm that the other was there, warm and alive. Yes, they were alive; Gael had defeated Corypheus, and saved all of Thedas in doing so. But Dorian could not care about this at all - he was just relieved that Gael was alive, and here in his arms. The green mark still burned bright, but its glow was swallowed up by Gael's own forest eyes, reflecting Dorian's image in their depthless pupils.

"I love you, Dorian," Gael says, his voice soft but resolute, like it was the undeniable, unchanging truth of the universe. These simple words, in a world full of uncertainty, were etched in stone.

Dorian just hummed, kissing the lips that uttered such passionate and powerful words with renewed vigour. The two could barely say anything as they held each other in the sheets, silence taking them even after they were spent. Holding his Inquisitor close and pulling the blankets over their bare shoulders, Dorian ran his fingers through his lover's hair, occasionally planting kisses along the sharp lines of his face.

"Hah, do you think they are looking for us down there?" Gael asked, his eyes moving towards the door to his chambers, though his body remained still and languid in Dorian's arms. Knowing that Gael had no intention of leaving him now, Dorian smirked and raised his body over the smaller elf's, trapping him.

"Are you thinking of leaving me here, Inquisitor? Bored of my company already?"

"Well, it is a celebration, and I am the guest of honour," Gael said, mirroring Dorian's playful expression on his face. "I did defeat a darkspawn magister, and saved Thedas. No big deal."

"Corypheus? You dare think of another man while you're in bed, here, with me? The audacity," Dorian said, raising a brow as he stared at the Inquisitor, who giggled in response. 

"Oh, are you mad, vhenan?" Gael asked through his laughter, pinching the end of Dorian's moustache merrily.

"Yes, and I have a few choice things to say to you. Two things, in particular," Dorian said, pulling his throat in to create an air of seriousness, though the expression on his face was anything but. Gael, intrigued, kept his mouth closed as he nodded, urging Dorian to continue. Before speaking, Dorian gingerly nipped the tip of Gael's nose.

"First, you are terribly dull and I hate you," Dorian said, eyes alight with mirth. Gael's mouth curled upwards. 

"Oh, is that so?" Gael laughed, before he roughly grabbed Dorian by the collar, his legs locking with the taller mage's. It took all but a blink for Gael to push upwards with his battle-honed strength, flipping the two of them over on the plush bedding. Gael hovered over Dorian's body, his hair falling in white wisps over his rosy cheeks, his pink tongue flicking out to run across his mouth slowly. Dorian gulped when Gael leaned down, pressing those moist buds to his, the flavour sweet and inviting. 

Pulling back after a teasing, brief taste, Gael's fingers gently rubbed the exposed, sun-kissed skin on Dorian's neck. 

"And what's the second?"

Dorian gazed up at Gael, drinking in this man like a beggar adrift in a desert. Raising his hands up to cup Gael's cheeks, his thumb running over his skin with such tender pressure that it made the elf's heart ache, Dorian's throat closed up and his stomach twisted. A chorus of emotions sprung up inside him, and for a second he was overwhelmed. These things that he felt for this man, and this man alone, could not have been put into words, even if Dorian wanted to try.

He had watched this man leap into danger time and time again, and had thought him lost just as many times. He had felt fear like he had never felt before, and grief he prayed he would never feel again. No matter how many times he touched his skin, or felt his lips on his, Dorian could not shake the haunting nightmare of losing this man that he loved so much. His amatus. And oh, how much he loved him. Desperately, insanely, consumingly. Dorian had not said this aloud enough times, but he hoped that Gael could hear his silent cries every time he looked at him. 

And he thinks he does hear him, for when Gael catches Dorian's grey eyes, so full to the brim with his feelings, he always wears that secret smile that is reserved only for Dorian to see. 

"The second thing, Dorian?" Gael urged, his voice dropping to a whisper as he laid his hand over the one trembling on his cheek, moonlit paleness against Dorian's burning sun.

But now, with his throat closed up and his eyes growing hot, all Dorian can do is smile and speak words that say one thing but read another.

"I wish you were taller."

The words hung dangerously in the air, and Dorian hoped that his amatus could hear his hidden voice. His fears disappeared when Gael just smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners, his elf leaning down to kiss him again. This time, Gael's lips lingered in silent understanding, and Dorian could hear the unspoken words his amatus murmured in his heart.

Ar lath ma, vhenan. 

A/N: I always liked Dorian's teasing, sarcastic comments at the end of DA:I, and feel that it's something just so Dorian. So, of course, I had to include some of that in this final chapter... with just a little tweak since Gael, as always, is our short little Inquisitor.

Next chapter is just a proper concluding note from moi - hopefully I didn't bait some of you into thinking it's a proper chapter :')