#close friends know ive been obsessing over this man’s shoulders and sad dog face… AND IT NEVER STOPS!

[cobra-wives]

some watercolor work + closeups!

[carpetheotherfandoms]

I’ve got you.

She learns about him more and more everyday. This is what she knows.

This is my first tryst into the Riverdale fic world. I’ve got a slight obsession with the Sweet Pea x Reader trope so let’s see how this goes.

TW: some violence w/ Ghoulies

Enjoy.

I.

She’s been learning things about him since the moment they met with his hair swept back and his frame towering over her. His eyebrow had kinked ever so slightly at the sight of her before she could feel the false bravado slipping over his face like a mask. The smirking and the crossed arms and the effortless way he rolled his eyes at her sarcastic tone.

‘You better watch it before that tongue gets you into trouble’

‘No need to concern yourself with my tongue Sweet Pea’

She could see him swaying in and out of who he was, who he was trying to be and who he wanted to be. There was a softness in his laugh when Toni made a joke. There was a harshness in his eyes when his friends pulled him away from the comments of the Northsiders who belittled him. There was a strange twirling in the pit of her stomach when she turned back to watch him walk away only to find him already watching her back.

She wanted to know him.

II.

She learns about his quiet nature whenever the whole group is around. She’s somehow part of the whole group now. They’re sitting at the bar and he’s always finding his way to the pool tables with no partner, just him and the cue and utter silence. But he’s listening to them, always listening. 

Then they’re sitting in a booth in Pop’s and he’s found his way to the record player with a few dimes and a somber look in his eyes. He flips through the catalogue of songs as Fangs steals another fry off her plate and Toni’s eyes drift off the the redheaded bombshell twirling her legs on the stools.

She wonders what’s going on in his head. What he’s thinking about when he sinks another ball or when he selects another record. Where did he learn to play pool so well? Is this song his mother played in the morning when she made him pancakes before school? Was there ever a time when someone made him pancakes before school?

She finds her eyes drift towards him more often than not until she’s finally pushing herself to go with him. To play a game or pick a song. It’s easy when she’s standing next her him and their arms brush ever so lightly but a fire ignites in her stomach at that effortless grin.

‘If you play that song again they may kill you’

‘Let them try, it’s my favourite’

III.

She first learns about the real pent up anger boiling under his skin when they make comments about the way her legs would look wrapped around them. The moment the words leave the mouth of the man standing before him in the blue and gold jacket she can practically feel the steam. Like he had been caged for too long, been alone for too long, and needs to run his first through a wall. She didn’t know until that very moment that he was a “swing first, ask later” kind of guy. Then his fist connects with his jaw and she’s screaming. 

She could feel it in her throat as they continued to swing and kick and hit each other. She doesn’t know what to do but then Fangs was pulling him backwards, throwing him in the passenger seat of his truck and speeding away before anymore Bulldogs could find their way there.

The guy was dazed and bleeding. His shiny yellow and blue jacked covered in dust from hitting the ground.

She had jumped on the back of her bike without a second thought and sped after them all the way to the Wyrm. Pulling into the bar with her heart racing and her eyes on the specks of red she could see dripping down his cheek.

‘You’re out of your fucking mind’

She's holding the ice to his knuckles and pulls out the first aid kit they keep under the bar to bandage up the open cut above his eye. His eyes are watching her, always watching her. His eyes steely and beautiful and leaving so much left unsaid. She feels them on her when she sits back in front of him. Her legs pressed up against his, her fingers grazing the side of his face to get a better look at the wound.

‘No one ever gets to talk to you like that.’

The way his voice pierces her made her feel like she had no air left in her lungs and all her blood had rushed from her body.

IV.

She first learns about the softness beneath the hard lines and edges of his face when they start spending time alone.

First it had been helping him with English, then trips to the drive-in and walking the railroad tracks after school just to stay out of the house a few hours more. 

The first time she sees his room she feels like he’s finally letting her peer into the pieces of himself no one else gets to see. A fragment of his soul he keeps hidden. There are pictures of his little sister on his dresser in a light blue dress and flowers in her arms. She wonders if it’s from a birthday, if it’s a party, if it’s the last time he got a picture of her smiling. There’s a ragged copy of “In Cold Blood” she had lent him weeks ago with the pages dog eared beside his bed. She wonders if he had read it deep into the night like she had, unable to stop turning the pages until his eyes grew heavy and forced him to sleep. There are scattered camera lenses and straps and film littering the side tables in his room. She wonders where he got them all; gifts or bargains or paid for, she doesn’t know. 

They had laid on his bed that night and talked for hours. Barely touching. The few light grazes of their fingers and shoulders were enough to make her think maybe there is something more.

‘You really miss them huh?’

‘I have a family now. I have you guys.’

V.

She first learns about the way jealousy feels when it coils up inside you and slithers across the back of your neck the night Cheryl throws a party. That woman loves nothing more than to bring together the Southside and the Northside for the drama of it all. Or maybe for the Toni of it all, she thinks, but that’s yet to be determined.

They’ve been there for a while and the way the leather skirt keeps riding up her thighs when she moves makes her want to disappear into a never ending black hole. It’s pinching her waist and no matter how many times she shifts the black lace top tucked into it, it doesn’t help.

She’s leaning against the kitchen counter when she catches her eyes on him as she’s scanning the room. She had lost everyone in the shuffling of bodies and the blaring of music but there he was. Tall enough to catch the soft slope of his nose and fine cut of his jaw. Almost as fast as the butterflies in her stomach flutter, they’re crushed to dust.

He’s leaning over someone, hand bracing the wall. She can just barely see the soft blonde curls of some girl his face is way too close too and it feels like someones stabbed her in the side. Hard breathing, tight chest. She hadn’t thought her feelings had gone this far. Hadn’t noticed when they had jumped into the deep end far from where she could reach them and pull them back to shallow ground, to stable ground. 

She catches Fangs as she's slipping her way out the back door.

‘Everything okay?’

She smiles and nods. Afraid of what might jumble out of her throat if she opens her mouth. She needs to go home, needs to get away from here. Fresh air and a cool summer night sound like a good distraction from the sad realization settling across her shoulders that she had fallen for a boy who would never fall for her back. 

VI.

She first learns about the unrelenting waves of fear that come from living this life when she’s about halfway to her destination that same night. Her mind had led her down a dark tunnel of how to handle this feeling but her feet had led her subconsciously to the bar. There’s a few lights still on, maybe someones still around to distract her, she thinks. But then she freezes.

‘What’s a pretty little snake doing out this time of night? And all alone?’

They hadn’t done anymore than run their switchblades across her skin, slicing up her skin with thinly veiled threats and warnings. But then one painful flick of his wrist made a deep gash under her eye when she just couldn’t hold her tongue back anymore. 

‘Fuck you.’

The drops of blood hitting her chest as they dripped in a curtain down her face.

‘Run along.’

She had kept her tongue between her teeth as they slipped back into the forest and she found herself practically running. She had nodded along to what messages the man had to say from his leader. When she slams into the bar she throws her back against the hard surface of the door and lets out all the air still trapped inside her.

‘What happened?’

FP’s voice is like a saving grace. She looks up and he’s pulling her forward with alcohol wipes and sad eyes. She doesn’t let the tears spill over, just softly recounts the messages like poison on her tongue. His forehead creases and his brows furrow.

‘Don’t worry, we’ll handle this’

He had been the only father she’d ever known. She’s grateful that it’s him here to wipe the blood and bandage the wound. She isn’t sure she could have held back the tears if it had been anyone else.

VII.

She first learns about how deep cares about whatever this is between the when she makes it home. A thick bandage across her cheek as she walks through the door, as she slips out of her clothes, leaving her blood stained shirt to soak in the sink. She finds her way into his t-shirt. He had left it here all that time ago and she found she needed it now more than ever.

She’s barely closed her eyes, barely let the tension in her back sink into the mattress when there’s a heavy banging on her door. She stands slowly, listening as the banging gets louder and then swings open the door. 

Sweet Pea. Wild eyed and angry and pushing through the doorframe to take her in his arms before she can even understand what’s happening. He’s got his arms around her shoulders and her forehead is resting against his chest. He’s touching her softy but his arms are tense like she’s glass about to break.

‘You shouldn’t have left’

His voice cracks as she runs her hands under his jacket and lets her fingers smooth out the creases of his shirt. She’s overwhelmed by the feeling of him, the softness of him, the way he’s holding her. She can’t help that tears are coming and she isn’t sure if it’s left over from the jealousy that had tightened around her heart earlier that night or the remnants of fear from being inches away from being sliced up or worse. 

But she pushes back from him and even though her eyes are spotted with tears and everything that’s about to come out of her mouth is a complete and utter lie, she speaks.

‘I’m fine’

VIII.

He first learns about the way he feels about her, the way he's been denying he feels about her, when he finds her home that night. He had been looking for her for twenty minutes at the party when Fangs had suddenly remembered her sliding out the back door. He felt panic rise in his stomach, she had left? 

When he gets to the bar and FP’s anger simmers down just enough to tell him what’s happened he feels like he could kill someone. He wants to break skulls and smash bottles. He wants to yell at Fangs from not making sure to take her home, he wants to yell at Toni for letting her be alone at the party. But mostly, he wants to yell at himself.

He barely says a word when he’s slamming the door to get out of the bar and all he can feel is knots in his stomach as he practically runs to get to her. His fist is pounding on the door before he can eve register that he's arrived. He needs to see her, he just needs to see her face, he just needs to know everything’s okay and she’s okay and it’s all okay. 

He’s surging forward at the sight of her and pulling her against him just to make sure this is real and she’s here and she’s fine. She’s wearing his shirt and his heart tightens at the sight. It’s practically a dress swallowing her but it feels like she’s his for this brief second. Just like he’s wanted for months. Just like he’s told himself should never and could never happen.

But he holds her anyway and grinds his teeth, ‘You shouldn’t have left’

Her hands are warm against his shirt and his skin feels like its on fire at the way there’s only a single, thin barrier between her and him. Then she’s pushing back from him, looking up at him and batting away the tears in her eyes.

‘I’m fine’

He brings his thumb to run across the thick white bandage FP has secured and feels that anger on his skin start to dissipate. Just for this moment, just for her. He lets the anger slide deep inside himself so that he can make her feel safe.

He wraps an arm around her shoulder and guides her back to her room without a word. She lets him. She looks tired and worn and he doesn’t want to yell at her from leaving or yell at them for doing this to her. He just wants to hold her. 

She sits down on her bed as he toes off his boots and slips off his jacket. They’re lying face to face and he’s swiping his fingers under her eyes to stop the tears. He reaches out for her hand under the covers and lets their fingers interlock.

‘I’ve got you’

[ilyasvieltrevelyanshepard]

Dog lovers - Day 6

My participation in the Cullen Appreciation Week Day 6: A Templar, a Krogan and a Winchester walk into a bar… - AU and Crossover Is Cullen a Sophomore at Denerim College? A Sole Survivor travelling around the Commonwealth? Or… wait- is he the Inquisitor?! This is your chance to go all out on everything alternate universe and crossover!

Is my first AU, be nice with me XDDDDD

It’s a bit long (+5500 words) so I let the link to A3O just in case you prefer to read it there ;)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11997969

Summary:

Alistair has got Duncan since his soldier days, and since the moment he saw the car hitting him, he has been running. Merrill works in a clinic near the park, and he brings the poor dog there...

Duncan has broken his leg. Damn dog and his obsession! Alistair is holding him against his chest. The big Border Collie is crying in pain, and he can see the inflammation of the bone protruding below the fur. Alistair’s heart is breaking with every whimper he made. He is still talking with Merrill with his headphones, the clinic where she works is close by, and he is walking there as quick as possible without hurting him even more.

Merrill is waiting for him outside the clinic, the door wide open behind her, and her cute face turned in a worried frown, looking at the prone leg hanging from Duncan’s quarters. “Come, Al. I got the doctor ready. He is waiting for you inside.”

“Thanks, Merrill. Let's hope he can cure him.”

Closing the door behind them, she guides him to a side hallway that leads to the exam room. “I'm sure he will, Al. He is the best doctor I ever meet. The animals adore him.”

The door of the last room open, and a blonde man appears at the door; long curls framed his face from where it has escaped the loose ponytail. He is wearing a red lab coat decorated with some pins and badges of smiling animals. “Bring him inside, please. We need to check that leg and ease his pain.”

His voice is raspy, with a thick Ferelden accent, but his tone is soft, totally aware of the distress on Alistair’s face. Moving inside of the room, Alistair puts down Duncan on the exam table, while Merrill closes the door and joins the doctor near it. The poor dog keeps crying, and Alistair’s heart keeps cracking with every sound.

The doctor makes him move to the head of the table, near Duncan’s  head, while he examines the leg. His fingers touched around the area, and he pinches the paw to test if he still has sensibility on it. “Merrill, get the X-ray ready. I want to take a look to the broken bone.” Moving a hand to pet Duncan's head, he turns to face Alistair. “It will be good if we can put him to sleep. This way we can ease his pain and work directly with the fracture when we know the extent of the damage.”

Taking a look to Duncan, he just nods while lowering his head and leaning his forehead on his neck. “Whatever you need, doc.”

The blonde man steps back from the table, as well as Merrill, giving him some time to pet Duncan and try to comfort him. Several minutes later, the doctor returns, the equipment to insert an IV on his hands. Merrill returns to the room too, and together they get the right leg ready for it, using an electric razor to shave a part of it and inserting the needle, getting the IV inserted in no time and without making Duncan feel nervous. Mixing the quantity of anaesthesia to put him to sleep, he injects it in the IV while his other hand never stop scratching between his ears. Less than a minute later, Duncan’s head fall to the table, and the whining stops. “Let’s take him to the X-ray’s room. You can come if you want, Mister Theirin.”

“Yes, thank you. And call me Alistair, doc.”

The doctor helps Merrill to move Duncan’s prone form to a stretcher, taking extra care moving the injured leg. “Call me Cullen then, and we have a deal.” He gives Alistair a sweet smile before turning to open the door, helping Merrill to roll the stretcher across the hallway.

A set of double doors at the end of it, marked with an ‘Only staff’ signal, seems to be their destination. Cullen opens the door with his butt, keeping the doors open while Merrill pushes the stretcher. He keeps one of the doors opened to Alistair, guiding him to a side room with a hand on his back. “We will get him ready. You can keep an eye on him through this window. The plan is to make a couple of general images to see the fracture and decide what to do.”

The room has the controls for the x-ray’s machine and a big window from where Alistair can see Merrill moving the stretcher near the table. Seeing the dog laying there he begins to panic again. The only signal that he is alive is the up and down of his chest. The doctor seems to feel his distress and puts his hand on Alistair’s shoulder. “He will be fine. He has hurt his leg, but is something that we can mend easily.”

Alistair shakes his head, taking his gaze from Duncan to look at his feet. “I know it, Cullen. It is just-- He is the only family I have. I can’t lose him.”

The fingers on his shoulder tighten slightly. “And you will not. Give me a moment to get him ready, and we'll come back.” With a last pat on his back, Cullen leaves the room, appearing on the other side of the window. With Merrill’s help, they put Duncan over the table, stretching the leg and positioning it over the sensors. He picks a protective apron and a shield for his neck, sending Merrill behind the glass while he maintains the leg on the position he wants. His voice reaches them via a little speaker beside the window. He makes her take three different shots, moving the leg from one side to the other. Once done, he asks Merrill to take a look on Duncan while he reviews the images.

Alistair is leaning against the wall, elbow on the wall while he observes the other room with a deep frown. Cullen takes off the protections, leaving them on the back of the desk’s chair, sitting on it and opening the application. The images are clear enough, it is a non-displaced fracture, clean and in diagonal, which explains the protuberance he sensed on the initial exploration. He can apply a splint to fix it, and the fracture will be healed in some weeks, depending on how well he behaves. Pushing the chair away from the desk, Cullen takes a look at the other man. Alistair is still leaning against the wall, smiling softly listening how Merrill talks with the sleeping dog. Cullen stands and joins him in front of the window. “He will be alright. We need to immobilise and splint the leg. The fracture is a clean one, and can be healed without surgery.”

Alistair’s smile grows so quick and so big that Cullen feels the need to join him. “Thank you, doc-- I mean, Cullen. He will be a pain in the ass while he has the leg immobilised, but I will survive it.”

With a shrug, he returns his gaze to the dog. “Just doing my job. May I ask how he was injured?”

The smile disappears, changing to a nervous grin, together with a hand moving to scratch the back of his head. “Well, I was expecting to avoid this conversation.” Cullen crosses his arms, raising a brow. Is not the first time that someone brings an injured animal that suffered the wounds because of negligence or even some mistreatment. He knows that the last, at least, is impossible with a friend of Merrill, but one never can be sure. Alistair seems to feel his doubts, raising the other hand to join the first while letting the head fall back, looking intensely to the roof. “Shit. I know how it sounds but is not my fault. Well, it is, but not in the way you can think. Oh, crap--” His face is turning to a cute red colour, the blush creeping to his ears and neck. “My dog seems to believe that I feel lonely and tries to force me to meet people at the park. Today he saw a young woman walking a bull terrier, and decided to run to her, dragging me with him. We were at the external area of the park, where the road crosses it, and he didn’t look around before crossing. A golf cart crashed with us. That’s my stupid story. My dog wants to find me a partner, desperately. How sad is that?”

Cullen is fighting hard not to laugh, feeling the distress in his voice. “Not sad. In fact, I find it very cute. He must love you very much.”

The blush didn’t disappear, but at least is not as bright as before, and Alistair risk a look at the other man. “What can I say? War tends to make a bond.”

Alistair sees the flick of pain crossing the other man features, it last just a second, and his voice is steady when he talks. “Yeah. Well, let's take care of his leg. He will have to stay here for the night, just in case, but you can stay with him until I leave.”

Giving him a soft smile, Alistair nods. “That will be great, Cullen. Thank you again. Do you need some help for moving him?”

“You are welcome. And no, don’t worry. Merrill and I can do it. You can wait for us in the exam room. I’ll go and fetch you when he is ready.” When Alistair nods to him, he points to the door and leaves the room, seeing the other man leave the staff area from the door. Stepping inside the x-ray room, he joins Merrill near the table. “Everything will be okay. A Broken bone, but mendable with a splint. I’ll prepare the items, and we will work here, will need to check the correct setting of the bone.”

Merrill scratches the head of the sleeping dog, talking like he can hear her. “You hear it, big boy. You will be on your paws soon to keep chasing more dog owners for your papa.” She giggles softly, Cullen has always loved the chime of her voice, so sweet and lovely. Together they move the prone form to the stretcher again, rolling to the area near the window where they can turn on the set of lights. He leaves her there, moving to the surgery area to recover the items he needs.

Once he returns to the room, he starts applying a layer of cotton around the leg, to protect it. Then he puts a couple of layers of soft cotton for padding, taking extra care on the broken area. The splints are bigger than needed, and he cuts the pieces to create the perfect size, positioning it and fixing it with a bandage. After knotting the bandage, they return the stretcher to the x-ray machine, placing him again at the table. “Merrill, I will stay here, and you will operate the x-rays and show me the images through the window. Let’s see if I did it perfectly on the first try.”

Cullen moves with her to the control room, recovering the protections and putting them on while he returns to the x-ray room. Closing the door, he positions the leg correctly on the table and gives her a thumbs up. Moving to the window, he waits until Merrill loads the image and turns the screen for him to see it. The union is not as perfect as he will like, and returning to the table, he unknots the bandage, moving the leg slightly before fixing it again, giving her the signal to take another one. This time the union is perfect, and he smiles at her before returning to the table to bandage the leg firmly. When she joins him, Duncan’s leg is perfectly wrapped in white dressing, covered with a blue waterproof cover.

With a soft caress, Merrill raises the head of the dog and kisses his nose. “Blue is your colour, Duncan. I need to buy you a pretty blue collar.” Helped by Cullen, they put the dog on the stretcher again.

The doctor stores the x-ray protections on the wardrobe before helping her to roll the stretcher outside. They reach the far side of the clinic, where the resting rooms and cages are. Moving to one of the cages, they put the dog inside, on a comfy bed, and begin to down the dose of anaesthesia to wake him. Merrill puts the stretcher aside, moving to one of the cabinets to pick up some painkillers to add to the IV bottle. “Doc, you can go and check on Alistair. He has been knocked down by the same car, but he has come here directly, and I’m sure that he will not leave to visit a doctor for himself.”

Cullen has to stop his hands while checking the IV. “Really?”

“Yes. This dog saved his life so many times that he has some kind of fixation with him. I never told you how we meet? A coyote has ventured to our residential area, and all the neighbours are running to call the police, closing doors and locking inside their pets. But Duncan was running in the garden, and the coyote saw him before Alistair can make him enter the house. It seems that he stepped between them, using his hands to force the mandibles of the coyote open to free Duncan. The wild animal turned against him, biting his leg before the team of animal control arrives. A neighbour of him came to my house asking me to take care of Duncan while they bring Alistair to the hospital. He didn’t want to leave until someone treated the dog’s back.”

“Marvelous… and I offered him to stay here until I close the clinic.”

Merrill giggled again, returning to his side and finishing the last touches to the dog’s IV and bedding. “You can’t force him to go to a hospital anyway, Doc.” Leaning in his ear, like sharing a secret even when they are alone in the room, she whispered. “And he is almost as cute as you, Doc. And single. And maybe I know that he will be inclined to accept a date with you.”

With a grunt, Cullen steps away from her. “Merrill, we have talked about it. I’m not ready for that.”

“That’s the same bullshit he said to me about himself. I knew him for two years now, and his only real friend, besides myself, is a girl from his army days. You two are too similar that it is sickening! Now go there, and check him for injuries. And for what is worthy on earth, think about it.” Merrill gives him her back, returning her full attention to the dog inside the cage, who is slowly waking up and has begun to whine in pain.

Grunting loudly, he turns to go, hand moving to his neck, in a mimic of the gesture he saw Alistair do before. Leaving the room without even saying a word to Merrill, his mind begins to wander. ‘Why is everyone trying to find me a partner? I’m happier than I’ve been in years. No need to add a new layer to my fears’. He reaches the door that returns to the public area, still lost in his thoughts. The clinic is empty for the day, as every weekend, only opened for emergencies. And without any hospitalised animal, besides Duncan, everything is pretty silent. Walking to the exam room where Alistair must be waiting, he stops in front of the door, his feet refusing to move inside. Alistair is giving him his back and has the shirt raised to his armpits, his left hand examining a big bruise on his ribs. Cullen inhales deeply; the view has been unexpected, but not unwelcome, as much as it surprises him. It has been a while since he saw a body this perfect. Even the white scars that cross his back are enticing. After half a minute, Cullen knocks at the door frame, startling him and making him shriek softly. “Sorry, didn’t want to frighten you. Let me take a look at this.” When Alistair raises his brows and opens his mouth to talk, Cullen raises a hand, stopping him. “You will not move inside to see Duncan until I checked your wounds.”

“But--”

“No buts here, Alistair. I was a field medic. Lean on the table and take off your shirt.” Stepping inside, he locks the door behind him.

Alistair seems to doubt what to do, but finding Cullen leaning against the door with his arms crossed and lips in a firm line helps him to decide. With a pained hoof, he takes off the shirt, letting it fall to the table and leaning his hands on it. “Fine. But I will not go to a hospital. I’m ok, just a bit sore.”

Striding to him, Cullen shakes his head. “Let me judge this, will you?” This close, Cullen can see a lot of scars covering his skin, a couple of them big enough to see clearly that his life has been walking on thin ice there. With practised ease, he moves his fingers across his ribs, searching for any real damage. Alistair is ticklish and makes some cute sounds while he tries very hard to remain still. He can’t feel anything broken but feeling how his muscles twitch when he touches an area near the end of his rib cage... He probably has a little fissure. His hand stops the exam but remains there. He can be reluctant to ask him out, or even thinking about it, but having another person skin under his fingertips feels too good to ignore it. “I can’t feel anything broken, but I suspect you had some fissure on your ribs. I’m going to put some anti-inflammatory cream to ease the pressure on it and bandage you. I will check it out in a couple of days, to make sure. But I want a formal promise on your side to seek help if you are in pain or if you begin having any problem while breathing.”

When Cullen looks at his face, Alistair is blushing, his hands curled into fists over the table, and his gaze is fixed at the door. He takes off the hand, and Alistair turns to look at him then, seeing his face slightly flushed too. “Oh, yes, I’ll do. Thanks, doc-- I mean, Cullen.”

Moving to one of the cabinets, Cullen picks up a set of bandages and a can of cream he stores there for himself. It's a natural remedy that eases the pain and relaxes sore muscles. Returning to the table, he puts a good share of cream in his hands and begins to warm it rubbing his palms. “I’ll try to warm it, but I can’t promise it will not feel cold.” Using his two hands, he begins to apply the cream on his ribs, massaging it to help the active ingredient to enter his skin, but not putting pressure on the damaged area. Alistair hissed at the first touch and hummed when his hands begin to relax the sore muscles. Cullen’s heartbeat is off the scale, and he begs to any god out there to help him to hide it from him. Taking a deep breath, he takes a look up, finding Alistair’s eyes closed while his head hangs back over his shoulders. God, but his man was gorgeous! ‘Maybe-- No, no, I can't do it.’ His thoughts make his hands apply more pressure than planned, making Alistair hiss in pain. “Sorry! I got-- distracted. Did I hurt you?”

Alistair shakes his head without opening his eyes. “No worries. And thanks for taking care of me, Cullen.”

When Cullen looks to his face again, he is blushing deeply, and the only thing he can think of is how cute he is when flushed. Damn, Merrill! He didn't need that right now. With a sigh, he ends with the poultice, and after washing his hands, he begins to dress his rib cage. When he reaches the big scar on his back, he has to follow it with his fingers, making goosebumps appear under his touch. Alistair sighs, knowing that he wants to ask about, but instead got surprised by his words. “That was close, isn't? Someday we can make a competition to see who has the ugliest one.”

Alistair's shoulders fall, face turning a bit to keep Cullen in his range of vision. “Scars to the soul counts?”

To Cullen surprise, his heart leads the conversation, and he talks before his brain can stop him. “I wish they didn't, but I still doubt you can beat me, Alistair.” When the other man looks at him with a raised brow, his brain understands his own words, making him blush deeply. “Sorry. I didn't want to bring back memories.”

“No worries, Cullen. But I don't know if you will have the upper card. I was at Ostagar, and later on Denerim battle.”

Cullen keeps working on the bandages, caressing his skin without thinking. “Have you hear about the Kinloch hold hostages situation?” When Alistair nods, he fixes the dressing and goes to the sink, spending more time than planned washing his hands. "I was the last Templar of the reports.” He is grabbing the sink with white knuckling force. “And then Kirkwall happened. I was there during the uprising. It was me who find the proofs against Commander Meredith and was me who killed her with a special unit.”

Cullen has his eyes closed, face down while he fights against the shivers the memories always gives him. A set of strong arms wrapped him from behind. “Hey, don't go back there. Stay with me.” His voice sounds sad and worried, and he tightens the hug when he feels him trembling.

Taking a deep breath, Cullen rests a hand on Alistair’s arms. “Sorry. I'm still learning how to deal with it. I don't know why I have begun talking about it with you.”

Leaning his forehead at the top of his head, Alistair smiles to himself. “Because sometimes you need to speak about the pain to make it hurt less, and I can understand what you are feeling.”

With a sigh, Cullen let himself enjoy the moment. It has been-- how long has been since someone hugged him? Since Lavellan and Cassandra during his time with the Inquisition team. “Yeah, but I still don't know why I feel the urge to talk about it with you. We just had met. Something like that haven't happened to me since Lavellan.”

Alistair's laugh makes him look over his shoulder. The other man is clearly pleased with something. “I must have known it. You must be the ex-Templar that Lel always talk about. Damn, this world is so tiny sometimes.”

“You knew Leliana?”

Seeing that he has stopped trembling, Alistair moves away from him but remains in his personal space. “She was with me when I joined the Grey Wardens. Walked with me to hell and back. She was a cheerful girl until Denerim’s battle.”

Cullen sighs, turning to face him and leaning on the counter, and Alistair moves beside him. “Yeah. Some moments of war can change you forever, right?” Taking a look at him, he sees that Alistair is still shirtless. “Put your t-shirt on before you catch a cold to add to the injuries. We can go and take a look to Duncan when you are ready.”

“Don't worry. I'm never cold.” Taking his hand, Alistair splashes it over his pectorals. “See? It seems like I'm a living furnace, don't ask me why.”

Certainly, Cullen can feel the hot flowing from his skin, but it was his own that is reacting to the touch. Taking away the hand, he decides to go with the flow. “Do as you want. I don't mind having you half dressed around my clinic.”

Alistair's laugh fills the room, at least until he makes a bad move and hurts himself. “Ouch! Shit, that hurts. But it's good to laugh after the long day. Besides, I like this playful side of you.” He winks at him before moving to recover his t-shirt and try to put it on, but after some hissings and grunts when he tries to move the arms high, he put it down again.

“Be careful with your ribs, Alistair. I don't want you to break it completely if we can help it.” Moving closer, he steals the t-shirt from his hands, taking a look at it. "Well, this one, besides of being dirty, will be complicated to put on you now that your muscles are relaxed. Let me check my wardrobe.” With the shirt still on his hands, he walks to the door, beckoning Alistair to follow him. “Come with me. My office is at the end of the corridor.” Reaching the door, he opens it and takes a look outside. The clinic remains empty, and Merrill must be still at the back with Duncan. “This way.” He leads Alistair to his office, a big room with a desk and a comfy chair, a couch with a TV, and a bed near the wall. “Welcome to my second home. I may begin calling it the first because I spent here more time that in my flat. Come inside and close the door.” Moving directly to the wardrobe near the bathroom, he searches for a shirt that will fit him. He is less packed than himself… Hum, maybe the one Josie gifted him during the trip to Val Royeaux? Yeah, this will do. Picking up the blue shirt from the hanger, he turns to face him, only to find him looking at the photographs hanging on the wall. Stepping beside him, he pushes his arm with a finger, careful of his ribs. “The car hit has erased your manners?”

His hand moves directly to his neck, eliciting a hiss of pain. “Ouch. Sorry. I just-- It's nice to see them smiling. Lel forgot how to do it for years, but Josie is helping her to come back to her true self. And I’m happy to see that Hawke is still with Fenris, they are good to one another.”

Cullen chuckles, looking at the photos. “Let’s play a game. Let’s see how many of my friends do you know.”

Alistair rubs his hands with a mischievous grin. “I like to play games. What will be the price?”

“A caramel macchiato and a piece of cake at ‘The Rose’?”

One of his fingers begin to tap over his lips, gaze fixed in Cullen. “That will do if you win, but… If I knew more than ten persons on your photographs, you would have dinner with me.”

The brows of Cullen can’t go higher on his face, but soon the surprise is substituted with a warm feeling. He extends a hand to clasps with Alistair. “Fine, let’s see what you got.”

Alistair begins to walk around the room, looking at the pictures. He stops in front of one and points to it. “Zevran? Really? Do you meet Zevran? No, I didn’t want the details, that man is something different.” Cullen chuckles, remembering the time when Leliana helped him to escape from a band where he has been undercover. Alistair takes a couple of steps more, signalling a family pick. “I don’t know any of your siblings, but God, you can’t deny the kinship.” Just beside it, it was another pic, and he recognises the ones on it. “You met Stroud? And Nathaniel? Oh, of course, Kirkwall was on Stroud’s jurisdiction.” When he turns to face him, he has three fingers raised. He is counting his matchings with a mischievous look. “That’s becoming interesting.” The next one-- man, how can he forget her. “Boo, Morrigan. I didn’t want to talk about her or her mother…” From behind him, a soft ‘Agreed’ makes him smile. This game is turning into a funny memory exercise. He takes a step to the left, pointing to the photos while muttering to himself. “No idea. Nope. That one looks familiar, but I can catch his name. No. Wait, I know that one! Bull! And Krem is with him! I worked with them on a mission in the Approach. Funny merc group, the Chargers.” Turning to face him, he stops his roaming to look at him. “How am I doing it?”

Cullen returns the smile, showing him the fingers on his hands, and recounting them for him, “Zevran, Stroud, Nathaniel, Morrigan, Krem and Bull. You already got six. I fear that I’m losing my own bet.”

Returning his attention to the wall, Alistair searches for more familiar faces. A big picture behind the desk catches his attention. Before moving to it, he looks at Cullen over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “If I reach fifteen, I can choose the food and the wine, and you can bring the dessert. Deal?”

“If you keep going you will want to decide my clothes! But ok, sounds acceptable.”

The image of Cullen appearing completely naked in his front door makes him blush deeply, and he is grateful to be giving his back to Cullen. Taking the few steps that separate him from the big photo, he begins to point. “Hawke, I miss her humour. Fenris, I don’t miss his. Varric and Bianca, why the hell did you let him pose with his fucking weapon! OH! Isabela, she hasn’t changed a bit! And Aveline is here too.” The next picture is from his days at the Inquisition. “That one is the easiest of all. Cassandra, Lel, Josie, Dorian and Rylen, ahh and Dagna! Cute and crazy Dagna.”

Cullen stays arms crossed, with the shirt hanging from a shoulder and a smile on his face. “Well, congratulations, Alistair. You have beaten the marked limit. Let’s see what you have in mind.”

The big smile on Alistair’s face is something so beautiful that Cullen has to look away from him. Fixing his gaze on his family portrait, he didn’t see Alistair approaching until his face appears in front of him. “Thedas to Cullen? Are you still with me?”

Blushing again, Cullen tends the shirt to Alistair. “Yeah, sorry. Got lost in thoughts.”

Taking the shirt off his hands, he begins to put it on, hissing in pain when he has to put the arm on the wounded side. The medic on Cullen reacts first, moving his hands to his arm and stopping the movement. With practised ease, he pushes down the shirt, making his unwounded arm bend back a bit while he puts the sleeves on place before moving in front of him and pulling it up. When he begins to button it, he sees that Alistair is blushing too, and the pair of them giggled when they saw the other in a new shade of red. “Oh, Cullen, we need to improve our capacity not to blush so easily, don’t you think?”

Letting the last two buttons near the neck opened, Cullen steps back with a soft smile. “I don’t believe it can happen in this life, but I must admit that it suits you, and helps me to feel less bad for the nervousness I’m having.”

Pushing his shoulder, Alistair smiles at him, still blushing. “Well, you know what they say, misery loves company. It's funnier that way. And if you don’t mind, now that I’m double dressed, can we pay a visit to Duncan?”

“Sure. Let’s go. I’m sure he will be happy to see you.”

Opening the door for him, Alistair crosses it with a shrug, waiting for him outside. Cullen leads the way to the inner area, where Merrill is talking to the dog, who seems to have awakened completely. When she hears the door opening and closing, she turns to face them. “Hey, Doc. He is fine. I gave him some painkillers, and he seems to be enduring it pretty well.

Closing the distance, Cullen lets Alistair near his dog and begin to pet him while he talks with Merrill. “Thanks. I’ll stay here for the night to check him out. You can go home if you want, I’ll close the clinic soon.”

Turning to face Alistair, Merrill asks him if he wants a ride home, to which Alistair just says no and keeps petting Duncan. Cullen promises to take him himself if necessary before she says her farewells and leave with a promise to be available for emergencies. Once they are alone, Cullen closes the distance to the cage, leaning beside it while Alistair talks nonsenses with the dog. As soon as he is there, Duncan raises his ears, looking at him directly, before leaving Alistair’s hands and moving to Cullen. The doctor is surprised but keeps petting him while the dogs nudge him with his nose. Alistair laughs beside him, arms crossed and a big smile on his face. “Seems he likes you too, Cullen.”

His words make him smile broadly. “Too?”

Blushing deeply, Alistair moves a hand to punch his shoulder. “Really? How mature of you, doctor.” Returning his attention to the dog, who is still coaxing Cullen to scratch his head, he joins the petting session, fingers touching Cullen’s from time to time. “What do you say, Duncan? Do you approve?” The dog barks loudly, making them laugh. It seems that Duncan has achieved what he wanted, because the looks the pair exchange are so cute that even they blushed. With a big smile, Alistair leans against Cullen, shoulder to shoulder. “Who knows? Maybe one day we can explain how our relationship has been ‘Love at first dog’”.