This was written for my wonderful friend and beta suilven as a thank you for organizing the yearly Secret Santa fic exchange at CMDA. And I'm so happy that I can finally post it.
The story is set in the same universe as "Tough as Leather, Smooth as Velvet" (and contains mild spoilers for chapter 25), but it works perfectly well on its own.

There was a reason Lace Harding was one of the best scouts the Inquisition had. She had always been observant, had always noticed things others hadn't. And she'd made a habit of watching out for those she cared for. Like the Inquisitor.

So, when she noticed him entering the Herald's Rest in the middle of the afternoon, she followed him, lingering close to the door. It wasn't like him to drink in the middle of the day. Almost immediately, she heard Bull's loud, bellowing laugh emerge from indoors, and she relaxed a little. A victory celebration, probably.

Alec Trevelyan and his companions had returned from the Western Approach only two days earlier, carrying with them the gargantuan skull of a high dragon. Bull had been beaming all over his scarred face, while the others had looked battered, but relieved. Harding wished she'd been there to see the battle, but her duties had called her elsewhere.

She didn't even know why she kept hanging around close to the tavern, but she was still there an hour later, when Dorian crossed the courtyard, a frown on his handsome face. Bull was waiting for him in the doorway, with the Inquisitor leaning heavily against his side, looking decidedly the worse for wear. Alec's hair was tousled and his eyes were glazed over and when he saw Dorian, he sighed happily.

"Take him home, will you?" Grinning widely, Bull gave him a little shove so that he tumbled right into Dorian's arms.

He seemed content enough to be there, clinging to the mage's neck and catching his mouth in a sloppy, but passionate kiss. Harding raised an eyebrow. Alec wasn't usually quite so relaxed about public displays of affection. He had to be really sloshed to behave like that. Dorian seemed to agree with her assessment. With a weary sigh, he pushed his lover back and led him off toward their quarters. Bull followed them with his gaze, chuckling softly, but then he noticed her standing there.

"What's the matter, Harding? You look as if you want to smack me." His gaze wandered all the way down to her feet and then up again, as if he was sizing her up.

Well, at half his height, he'd hardly consider her a threat, but she was determined to stand her ground nevertheless. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing." Motioning for her to follow him, Bull wandered off toward a quiet corner of the yard, where they could talk. He dropped down heavily onto a tree trunk, shaking himself as if to chase away the aftereffects of the drink. "We just celebrated our first dragon slaying." His eye took on an enthusiastic gleam. "You'd understand if you'd been there. Ah, it was a fine beast. Nothing like a fire-breathing lizard to get your blood racing, I'm telling you. So we had a few glasses of Maraas-Lok and-"

"Don't tell me you made him drink that Qunari brew!" Harding groaned. "What were you thinking? Ancestors, no wonder he's a mess. He's human! They're not built for that shit."

"Awww, come on. He'll be fine." Bull grinned happily. "I bet he'll perk up once Dorian has him undressed and gets his hands on him."

Harding felt herself blush at the vivid mental image his words conjured. Of course she'd imagined the two of them together, just like every other female in Skyhold had, probably. It was impossible not to; two such very fine specimens, and the two of them being so obviously wildly in love. But, really, it was wrong to think about the Inquisitor like that, and-

"You Southerners." Bull shook his horned head. "I'll never understand why you're so damn uptight when it comes to talking about sex. You like it well enough once you get around to it, but you can't bring yourselves to admit that you want it."

"I'm not uptight!" She felt her cheeks heat up even more. Ancestors, it wasn't as if she was a blushing maiden. What was wrong with her? "Just because I don't rub it in everyone's face-" She cursed herself for her choice of words the moment they left her lips.

"I wouldn't mind." His obvious amusement made her wish the ground would open up and swallow her. "Come on, Harding. Don't be shy. Admit it. You'd like a little tumble, wouldn't you?"

"With you?" She couldn't believe her ears. "That's a little out of the blue, isn't it? Besides, you'd probably split me in half with your enormous… sword." She was blushing so hard now that it felt as if her face was on fire.

He threw back his head, roaring with laughter. "Not all that enormous, little one. I'm sure you could take me. But we'll never know unless we try, eh?" Still chuckling, he extended a hand toward her. "You are curious, aren't you? Don't you want to… explore a bit, Scout Harding?"

Harding hesitated. Yes. She was curious. She'd been with dwarves, and with a few human men, even an elf, once. But a Qunari? That was new. And Bull was not so bad, all things considered. He wasn't pretty, with his eyepatch and the scars surrounding it, but Krem had told her how he'd come by it, and it made her like him all the more. Besides, she'd been lonely lately, and watching all the lovebirds around her hadn't made things easier to bear.

"You can call it off at any point in time. I'm not a brute." Bull had grown serious. His hand was still there, waiting for her to take it. "Only what you want, nothing more."

"All right." She could hardly believe she had said it aloud, but he had already taken hold of her hand, pulling her closer, smiling again.

"Not here, though." Quickly, she pulled him to his feet. "Come on. I know just the place."

The small room, high up in one of the old towers, was dilapidated and draughty, but it did have a bed of sorts, and it wasn't likely someone would surprise them up here. As soon as the door fell shut behind her, Harding's misgivings were back in full force. What was she doing? Why would she-

"Well? Ready to sate your curiosity?" Bull sat down on the edge of the bed with a grunt, loosening the straps on his leg brace.

She felt a brief pang at the sight. He was so strong, so vibrant and alive, that she tended to forget about his crippled leg in the normal course of events, but now she wondered how much it really bothered him. Was he in pain? Had he overexerted himself by climbing up the steep stairs?

But he was already smiling again, leaning back against the headboard and pulling her closer. "Go on. I'm all yours."

Settling on his massive thighs, she tentatively ran her hands along his horns. She'd wanted to touch them ever since she'd first set sight on him, had wondered what they felt like, whether they were stiff or flexible. He patiently let her proceed while she inspected the sharp tips.

"Those must be so impractical. How do you even sleep at night?" She bit her lip, wondering if he'd be mad at her for speaking so freely.

But Bull wasn't so easily offended. "I manage. Force of habit, I guess."

Just then, her questing fingers reached the place where the horns met this forehead. The skin was soft here, and when she touched him, he moaned deep in his throat. Intrigued, she did it again, slowly tracing a bony ridge with her fingertips, and he arched into her touch, purring like a large cat.

"You like that?" Harding swallowed.

"Like isn't the word I'd use." His voice had taken on a deep, gravelly quality that went straight to her core.

Holding her gaze, he took her hand and pulled it down to his crotch. Oh. Instinctively, she looked down, but it was hard to make out details through those baggy trousers he preferred and anyway-

"Wait! This feels… weird. Too fast." She pulled back her hand. "I mean, we haven't even kissed, and-"

"True." Cupping her head in his large palm, he pulled her in for a kiss, and she immediately forgot all her objections.

His lips were much softer than she had imagined, and his beard was carefully trimmed so as not to get in the way. He tasted good, too, just a hint of alcohol on his breath and he took his time, allowing her to open up at her own pace. And when she did… His tongue was rougher than a human's or dwarf's would be, and it immediately made her wonder what it would feel like on her breasts, or elsewhere on her body. By the time he let go of her, she was shivering all over.

Hesitantly, she ran her small hands all over his chest and shoulders. Ancestors, he's so huge! His neck was nearly as thick as her waist, and his arms were as big as tree-trunks, his chest a firm wall of flesh. His skin had an odd greyish colour, and it felt a bit like leather under her hands, smooth and almost hairless. He had so many scars, too, some old and silvery, some still pink and tender.

Bull let her proceed for a while, but eventually he reached for the buttons on her tunic, cursing when they proved too small for his big hands. Shushing him, she quickly helped him with the task, shuddering at the sudden mental picture of one of those thick fingers sliding into her heat, filling her and stretching her. She made a small, needy noise in her throat, and he responded by pushing aside her tunic and putting his mouth on her breasts.

Harding nearly screamed. It felt so good, what he was doing to her, that rough tongue laving her tender flesh, teasing gently, then flicking harder against it. She'd been wet before, but now her pants were getting soaked to the point of getting uncomfortable and she fumbled for the laces, impatient to get rid of them.

He laughed again, rough and deep, and lowered her onto the sheets with surprising gentleness, then helped her wiggle out of the offending garment. She hissed sharply when he spread her legs and the cool air met her heated flesh, but his mouth was already there, igniting a fire inside her that more than made up for the momentary discomfort.

By the time he finally threw off his own pants, she was begging for him, babbling with need. He wasn't unaffected either, his hands shaking a little as he pulled her on top of him, thrusting up involuntarily to meet her heat. He was big, of course he was, but not more so than some of the humans she'd been with, and she was so ready for him that it only took a little patient manoeuvring to take him all in.

And when he was finally lodged deep inside her, it was so good! Straddling him, she could move freely without any fear of being smothered by his bulk, and it was immensely exciting, to have him all laid out for her pleasure, so much strength and power kept carefully in check. Tentatively, she rolled her hips and was rewarded with a low growl and a quick upward thrust of his hips. Oh, yes. She repeated the motion, and once again, he responded beautifully, his gaze fixed on her all the time with intense focus.

Harding could have gone on for hours, just like that, his cock hitting all the right spots inside her, but in the end, he got impatient. Sitting up, he held her in a tight grip and began moving in earnest. She let herself sink back into his embrace, so firm, so safe, and allowed him to set the pace, leaving it all up to him. When his movements became jerky, she ground urgently against him, eager for her own release.

Bull took the cue and somehow managed to insert a hand between them, finding her sweet spot and sending her over the edge with a few skilled caresses only moments before he came with a long, heaving sigh. Fireworks went off behind her closed lids as she clenched hard around him, over and over, her whole body wracked with delicious shudders. When conscious thought finally returned, she was sobbing against his shoulder, too overcome to do anything but cling to his massive frame.

"Hey." His voice was all warmth and tenderness, with none of the rough teasing she had learned to expect from him. "You okay?"

"Oh yes." She felt another ripple of pleasure all through her body as he slowly withdrew, still more than half hard. "That was… something else."

"Mmhmm." Another low laugh set his chest rumbling. "I knew you'd enjoy riding the bull."

"Now, don't get cocky." She gave him her patented don't-get-any-ideas-stare, but if she was honest, her heart wasn't really in it. "Just because you got it right at the first attempt, doesn't mean you're the Qun's gift to Southern Thedas. Maybe you just got lucky."

Bull gave her a long, searching look, but then he smiled, a sly smile that made her pulse speed up despite their recent exertions. "Well, there's only one way to find out…" He ran his hand slowly down her spine, relishing her answering shiver. "Clearly, we have to do it again."

A big resounding thank you to Josie Lange for betaing this for me so that I could surprise suilven with it. :)