Didn't See That Coming

They were traveling in the Hinterlands, doing Maker knows what. Dorian didn't really care though since he got to walk behind perhaps one of the most attractive men in the Inquisition. Varas Lavellan, Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste and owner of a fantastic ass. He wasn't the classically handsome man like Cullen or the rugged handsome like Bull and he wasn't even close to the jaw-dropping stunning handsome Dorian was. No, Varas Lavellan was simply breathtaking. With his warm skin and bright green eyes, the smatterings of freckles over his cheeks and nose and his hair. Dorian had the best hair in the Inquisition, of course, but Varas was a quick runner up with his black, bouncing curls.

As Dorian said – breathtaking.

But also completely maddening. Really, Dorian had gone through all that trouble to have the glasses and the helmet made for his seeing-impaired Inquisitor and now the man wasn't even wearing them. It was an amazing gift, an exorbitant and thoughtful gift – and it wasn't being used. He wondered if they just didn't teach manners among the Dalish.

Dorian moved at a perturbed, sluggish pace, trailing after Varas and Cassandra as they climbed up another bloody cliff. Varas's feet were bare, somehow avoiding rocks and other risky terrain and Dorian wondered at that. The visually impaired he had met in Tevinter had been exceptionally dependent on their guides, walking slowly as they held onto the arm of their handler. But here Varas was, gingerly walking along, perfectly fine without a guide or the bloody glasses Dorian had made specifically for him.

It was so impolite to disregard this! Normally Dorian wasn't the biggest stickler for manners but this was ridiculous!

"You're pouting," Varric said, also trailing behind.

"You make it sound so childish," Dorian scoffed.

"That's because it is. You're staring a hole into Twitch's back, scowling like a child," Varric continued, hoisting himself farther up the cliff.

"Yes, well, this is what happens when you don't properly use a gift someone has gone through great lengths to give you – you get scowled at."

"Oh, so you're unhappy that he isn't using the uncomfortable and unattractive helmet you had made for him so that he can see."

"Yes!" Dorian stopped and composed himself, what was he doing? Talking to Varric of all people about this.

"Oh, I see, you have feelings for him."

"That is absolutely –

"True and you know it. Why are you hiding from it? You do know that he feels the same way, right?"

"Of course he does, look at me!" Dorian said automatically.

"Sure, I can look at you. But he can't," Varric continued and Dorian closed his eyes. Right, Varas couldn't see him, not…not like everyone else.

His hands were rough with callouses from the daggers he used, but they were gentle on Dorian's face. Fingers carefully touched the planes of his face as curious green eyes followed the contours. Dorian's heart hammered in his chest and just about stopped when Varas smiled.

"Wow," the elf breathed. Dorian smiled his most self-indulgent smile, hopefully hiding the fact that his heart was having trouble keeping a steady beat.

"Pretty impressive, right?" He said.

Varas smirked, his fingers coalescing at Dorian's lips, "You could say that."

Dorian shook himself out of the memory. Nothing had happened. He had laughed nervously and gotten himself away from Varas as quickly as possible. Nothing had happened, he didn't kiss the man like he had wanted to, he hadn't cupped his face, felt his smooth, freckled skin – nothing had happened.

"It doesn't matter, my sheer brilliance alone is compelling enough," Dorian continued. And this was true, as beautiful as he was physically, his mind and abilities were also staggering. He was an amazing man, worthy of being fawned over and people did fawn. People other than Varas. Varas did not fawn. The infuriating elf teased and laughed and never made eye contact but his ears always twitched towards Dorian's voice, like perhaps eyelashes fluttering in flirtation.

"I get it. You're scared that he actually likes you, actual you and not the you that you try to present to the world."

"Oh will you shut up! This is about him not taking necessary precautions and not utilizing a wonderful gift!" Dorian barked a bit too loudly.

"I am twenty-eight years old, Dorian. I have lived my entire life like this, outdoors and nearly blind. I have accidentally injured myself countless times, but I have learned. And I have lived. Your gift is appreciated, but it is…not necessary," Varas was suddenly standing behind Dorian. The mage turned around to see the elf standing tall, taller than Dorian, and frowning. His ears weren't twitching and his eyes were dazedly pointed at something beyond Dorian's shoulder.

"Inquisitor I –

"We have work to do," Varas said before walking off towards Cassandra. Dorian sighed but followed. Vishante kaffas.

The day carried on and they were on another hill, close to sundown, when it happened. Dorian was admittedly distracted and not paying attention to his footing when he stepped...and the world below him gave out.

Suddenly the seeing, flamboyant mage was tumbling down the hill, grunting and gasping as rocks and twigs battered his body.

"DORIAN!" Varas cried, quickly descending the hill after Dorian who finally stopped at the foot of the hill, landing with a solid "oomph!" He shut his eyes and groaned in pain.

"Ow." Varas was suddenly there, on his knees and running his hands all over Dorian.

"What hurts? Tell me, Dorian," he commanded.

"Everything fucking hurts."

"Dorian!"

"Fine! My leg, my right calf and foot," Varas's hands were suddenly there, bare and ripping away Dorian's robes and boot. Those hands stilled, then gently prodded the flesh. Dorian hissed in pain.

"You have a nasty gash on your calf, it needs stitches."

"I can do that," Cassandra was suddenly there, kneeling by Dorian and pulling out a healing kit.

"Does your chest or back hurt?" Varas asked, once again running his hands over Dorian, trying to assess the potential damage.

"If you wanted to run your hands all over me, Inquisitor, you just had to ask."

"Dorian." Varas all but growled.

"Just…bumps and bruises I think, but my left arm hurts all the way into my back. I think I may have dislocated my shoulder." Varas's hands went where Dorian said, gently prodding the skin and –

"AH!" Dorian screamed from the pain and Varas nodded.

"Definitely dislocated. I can pop it back into place, Cassandra, wait on those stitches, Dorian is about to wriggle a bit. Dorian, sit up," there was some shuffling then as Varas guided Dorian into a sitting position. Ow, ow, owwww. His hands were back on Dorian's exposed skin wonderfully calloused and strong and this was not how he wanted to feel Varas touching him! No, there should have been wine and delicious food, and silks, and a beautiful night – not covered in dirt with ripped robes and a dislocated shoulder!

"On three, alright, Dorian?"

"I hate today."

"One…two…" and then Varas moved Dorian's arm up and in, popping his arm back into place.

"AH! VISHANTE KAFFAS! YOU SAID ON THREE!"

"I mislead you to keep the anxiety down, learned it from my mother," Varas replied, sounding hurried and concerned. Damn right he should be concerned! Cassandra resumed her stitching and then Dorian heard fabric tearing.

"What are you doing?"

"Making a sling for you," and then the elf was back, slipping Dorian's arm into a sling and wrapping it around his shoulder. Dorian winced but didn't complain as the man carefully situated the injured arm.

It took another hour of fussing over Dorian to get him stitched and moved to a safe spot where they set up camp around him. They tucked him away into a tent, setting him up with as many soft things they could manage. He was in a considerable amount of pain but he was also laying against a pile of Varas's clothes, so how much could he really complain?

Dorian smiled and turned his head into the coat next to him, expecting to smell musk and pine and man. Oh he got man, he got dank sweat and grime man. He grimaced and turned his face away. Alright, he could complain.

The tent's opening fluttered and in walked Varas – shirtless, tattooed Varas. His hair was pulled back into a messy bun and his ears were twitching and oh dear, he was beautiful.

"Varas," Dorian began but he didn't get a chance to finish his sentiment. Varas was on him, his hands cupping Dorian's face, cradling his jaw as their lips were pressed together. Varas kissed him with passion and gratitude and oh it was glorious. The calloused hands but the soft lips and the nose rubbing against his own…Dorian kissed him back just as fiercely. He reached up with his good hand, cupping Varas's jaw.

Their breathing was erratic. Varas kissed Dorian back, slowly crawling atop him, carefully avoiding all injured parts of Dorian. The mage gasped and Varas's tongue swept into his mouth. Oh! Dorian moaned and was about to return the favor when Varas pulled back.

"Don't…don't do that again," he ordered. Dorian grinned and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Well, if I get treated like this when I get injured…"

"Dorian," Varas said in a warning town and Dorian laughed.

"I cannot promise anything, not in this line of work." He was truthful for once and anyways, if Varas couldn't make this promise then neither could he. Varas sighed and leaned his forehead against Dorian's.

"Fine."

"But you can kiss me more," deciding to be bold, Dorian reached behind Varas's head and pulled the bun free. And then his hand was running through those lush tresses and it felt amazing.

"What are you doing?"

"I am injured, let me have this." Dorian stuck his lower lip out in a dramatic pout. Varas laughed low in his throat before taking the lip in between his teeth. And then they were kissing again and it was amazing. His leg was still sore and he didn't even want to think about his shoulder but here was this beautiful man with his beautiful hands and his exquisite mouth practically breathing life into him.

Varas pulled away again, smiling brightly.

"You know, I just realized that you most likely are not aware how handsome you are," Dorian murmured, stroking the elf's cheek. Varas shrugged and shifted so that he was sitting next to Dorian.

"I am aware," he said, taking Dorian's right hand, "but I like it hearing it."

"Well, good, because I am going to be saying it a lot."

"Is that so?"

"Is this a onetime thing?"

"That is up to you."

"Maker, what do you want?"

"Have I not been transparent with all the kissing and the fussing? Then let me be very clear," Varas's hand was at Dorian's jaw, reaching up to trace his lips before leaning in to kiss Dorian for the umpteenth time that night. Not that Dorian was complaining. He leaned into the kiss, opening his mouth run his tongue against Varas's lips. Varas made a soft noise, opening up to rub his tongue against Dorian's. Oh, oh my.

Too soon Varas was pulling away with a smug grin.

"Hmm, I could get used to this kind of transparency." Dorian stroked Varas's cheek and much to his delight, the elf leaned into his touch, going so far as to turn his head to kiss the mage's palm.

"There is only one thing."

"Oh? Just the one?"

"Yes. Dorian, I am not broken. I do not need to be fixed. I appreciate your gifts and your intention, but…"

"You don't want to be changed," Dorian said softly. Varas gave a curt nod, turning his face away. Oh we can't have that. So he gently turned the beautiful man's face back to his own, giving him one of his best smiles, even when Dorian knew it would go unnoticed.

"I understand," it really was a shame that Varas couldn't see how brilliant his smile was, but it was a blessing for Dorian that Varas didn't see the exact effect the smile had on him.

"Ma serannas."

"Now get back over here, I am injured and need copious amounts of kisses to get better." Dorian gave a slight tug on the other man's chin and Varas chuckled low in his throat. That…that was far too sexy for its own good.

"Ma nuvenin."

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