#i’m now asking this question to the tete lovers reading this too

[taehyungfirst]

Admin, what things has Taehyung either inspired you to do or purchase (beyond albums and BTS merch)? Here’s my somewhat embarrassing list:

- Try Mediheal facial masks

- Purchase jewelry (sadly neither Celine or Cartier, however)

- Collect Tata stuff from Line Friends (maybe this is merch?)

- Try that perfume he got for Jungkookie

- Listen to Chet Baker

- Think about trying an indoor Golf place

- Learn how to stream and vote

His brands really knew he target demo, I fear.

HIII it’s not an embarrassing list omg, this is such a fun question!

- That one necklace he got from brandy melville, I treasure it like he made that himself

- Getting into jazz

- Studying french seriously! I always liked the language but he gave me an incentive to study harder

- I’ll give you something embarrassing: there was a tweet circulating some years ago saying that he used some aveeno product, and I bought that 😭

- I think this one is some universal thing for tete lovers: being into neutral tones like beige and browns

If I can think of more I will add them to the post, thank you for the question! 🤍

[bangtanbetchfics]

friction | knj (m)

genre: office au, romance, smut rating: explicit // 18+ pairing: kim namjoon x reader word count: 7.0k suggested listening: 1 billion views - exo-sc | creme brulee - gfriend | underwater - baekhyun | playlist warnings: m/f, m/m, explicit language, explicit/casual sex, masturbation, enemies to lovers, light bondage, light dom/sub, sex toys summary: your pesky and overworked assistants meddle in your relationship with your sexy rival -- kim namjoon -- and find themselves caught in the crosshairs of love and all-out war. notes: enjoy enjoy enjoy! a true labor of love. navigation: ch. i | ch. ii | ch. iii | masterlist | ao3

FRIC·TION | conflict or animosity caused by a clash of wills, temperaments, or opinions.

Taehyung yawns, interlacing his fingers and pulling his arms above his head in a stretch. He moves his neck side-to-side until he hears a satisfying crack, indicating the adequate stretch of the muscle. He waits for his computer to finish powering down before clicking the lamp on his desk off.

Taehyung’s hand reaches for his coat, but he hesitates as he looks over at your office.

The blue glare seems to amplify your stressed expression and the mildly dark crescents under your eyes.

“Ma’am?”

Taehyung quietly raps at the glass door to your office and it startles you from your concentration.

“Hmm...yes, Tae?”

You respond, mildly annoyed, as you pull a neon post-it note from its pad to stick to the desk.

Taehyung looks at you, his eyes forming wide circles as if he's ready to convince you of something. You can immediately sense his question before you exhale through your nose.

“It’s just that it’s getting late and I-” Taehyung starts, wrapping a hand around the glass doorframe.

You shake yourself out of your funk and look at him fondly, your brows coming together in compassion.

Before your mouth can form a response, the phone at Taehyung’s desk rings. 

He gives you a small bow to pardon him before he jogs to his desk to pick up the phone.

“Yes, Sir. Yes, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Of course, Mr. Min,” Taehyung looks at you a few times, pointing at the phone. “I’ll send her right up.”

Taehyung's eyes widen at you before hanging up the phone.

You come to the threshold of your office, leaning your head on the frame.

“Was it Min?” You ask, and Taehyung nods in response. 

“He wants to see you immediately. Didn’t specify what it was for.” 

You chew at your lip and then dig in your pocket, tossing him your corporate card.

“I’m so sorry, Tae. Do you mind staying until I come back? There’s just a lot going on this week with the product launch, and I’m sure he’ll add more to my plate,” Taehyung puts his hand up and shakes it.

“Of course. Anything you need.” He responds, slipping the plastic card in his pocket.

“Thank you.” You whisper, your hands in a prayer. He bows as his eyes watch you walk off.

Taehyung rolls his chair up to his desk, and he hits a few digits on the dialpad.

“Gonna be another long one,” Taehyung sighs out into the receiver.

“Same here Tete,” The singsong voice responds, equally as disappointed.

“I should have your cock in my mouth right now, but I’m here ordering takeout for the third time this week,” The voice whines.

“Jimin!” Taehyung growls into the phone, but the sound quickly dissolves into a laugh.

“What’s so funny? It’s not good for my figure,” Taehyung can tell there’s a pout in Jimin’s voice.

“Especially my ass.” Jimin continues, the pout growing deeper.

“I love your ass. Shutup.” Taehyung chuckles. “You said you’re stuck here late too?”

“Yeah. I know the product launch is coming, but Joon never stops working.” Jimin whines. “He got called upstairs by Min a few seconds ago.” Taehyung gasps and sits up in his chair, rolling it closer to his desk.

“Hmm…” Taehyung hums. He places his elbows on the surface, using his free hand to ruffle his silver locks.

“What? You sound interested.” Jimin inquires, and Taehyung drums the desk with his fingers.

“My boss did too.”

✹✹✹

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The slow ticking of the clock snips through your veins. You press the nail of your index finger into the flesh of your thumb, creating a small crescent-shaped indent in your skin. 

You feel your heart picking up pace in your chest; steady thumps beating at your ribcage. You turn your hand around to stare at the indentation on your skin, waiting for it to vanish. It does, slowly.

You look at your boss through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of his office, his mouth busy moving in response to someone on the other end of the phone’s receiver. His hair is a textured bowl of platinum blonde, and his long, bony fingers move through a mass of papers on his desk.

You’re unsure of why you’ve been summoned; Yoongi never summoned anyone to his office unless it was serious. Being two days out from a product launch with you at the marketing helm...well, that was never a good sign.

After a moment, heavy, confident footsteps echo through the hall.

You see a man -- all legs in his dark, smartly tailored pants -- and he immediately diverts attention from your buzzing thoughts. His aura fills the entire space, and you sit up straight in your chair.

The man’s long wool trench coat brushes at his ankles, the black fabric stiff at the tips of his shoulders. He shrugs the coat off and carefully folds it in half, placing it on the chair behind him.

He suddenly feels your eyes on him from across the room, and his sharp gaze snaps over to meet yours. His eyes crinkle at the edges, and he extends his hand across the coffee table between the two of you.

“Kim Namjoon. I’m guessing you don’t know why you’re here either?” His voice comes out in a dark, velvety tone, catching you off guard. Your eyes can't help but fix on his as you shake his hand.

“Not a clue,” You respond coolly, and the dimples in his cheeks make themselves known.

You clear your throat as his eyes hang onto yours in return, and you feel your lips subtly part. Snapping yourself from his aura, you quickly release his hand and look around the room to find something else to concentrate on.

“Guess we’ll find out...” Namjoon shrugs, sliding back in his seat. You offer him a nod in response, nervously swallowing the exchange down your throat.

You then cross your legs, pretending to be busy on your phone. 

After processing the interaction, Namjoon licks the inside of his cheek -- his head hanging down in a mild defeat for a second. He reaches into his pocket to pull out a tattered copy of The Art of Loving.

As he reads, your eyes peel from your phone and notice the way his turtleneck hugs his form, the dark fabric dipping in at the valley between his firm chest. A few lavender-tinted hairs slide from Namjoon’s slicked back style into his dark brown eyes, and his smokey gaze suddenly rises up to meet yours.

Fuck. He’s caught you.

Your eyes widen in a few seconds of brief panic and dart back down to your phone. You move your thumb around through the pages of apps; it’s all you can manage so suddenly.

Namjoon smiles to himself as he looks back down, quietly dipping a finger to his tongue to stick to a page of his book. 

Before he’s able to turn the page, Yoongi pops his head from the office.

“You ready?” Yoongi asks, turning his head in your direction.

You nod and watch Yoongi shuffle back to his desk.

You inhale and smooth your skirt as you stand, noticing Namjoon’s eyes following your fingers as they glide over the red fabric adorning your curves. He calmly looks back down and blushes as you catch him; his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously as he pretends to continue on with his book.

“Wish me luck,” You notice the way his gaze lit something sexual afire in you, but you couldn’t pay any attention to that right now. “Nice meeting you.” 

Namjoon looks up at you again, his fingers tense on the pages of the book.

“Likewise.” Namjoon’s smouldering eyes are fixed on you as he responds, and his gaze continues to follow you into Yoongi’s office.

You reach a chair across from Yoongi’s desk, sneaking a glance at Namjoon one last time over your shoulder.

Namjoon exhales the tension from his body as he watches you take a seat.

✹✹✹

You sit in the chair across from Yoongi’s desk, admiring the glittering cityscape behind him.

“I love being in here. It’s so refreshing.” You sigh, your eyes floating back to Yoongi.

“Yeah, kid? Well, it could be yours soon,” He chuckles. “I’m actually sick of looking at it. I’m ready to move onto my next venture.” Yoongi says this as if he’s in his forties, but he’s the youngest CEO in the vicinity. It's indicated by a giant, framed magazine cover of himself on a wall in his office: Top 30 Under 30 in Technology.

“C-Come again?” You murmur as you’re taken by surprise, and you sit up in your seat.

“You heard me. I want either you -- the CMO -- or Kim, the CTO running things," Yoongi says, standing up. He calls you over with his finger, motioning for you to sit in his chair. "Either of you are my best shot.”

You plop down in the cushy leather fabric, and your eyes meet Namjoon’s again. You purse your lips together and swirl the chair around to face the cityscape.

“How’s that feel?” Yoongi asks as he adjusts his cream turtleneck.

“Damn good.” You growl, your nails digging into the armrests.

“Well, there’s no reward without risk,” He says, and you raise your head in interest. 

“Try me, Min.” You demand as you cross your legs, leaning back in the chair.

“I want you to launch the product in my place at TechX this week.” He mentions casually, and you shriek in response as you shoot up from your seat.

“You can’t be serious, Min!” You throw your hands on your hips. “Isn’t that in two days? In Vegas? And like, the largest product launch ever for this company? ” You inquire, looking over at Yoongi.

“See! You understand the gravity of this launch. And yeah, and I haven’t even finished the keynote yet,” Yoongi cackles, slapping his thigh. “Partner with Kim on the presentation. It’s in front of twenty-thousand too, so make it good.” He sits down, racking away at the keys on his laptop. 

“You and Kim are both equally matched in terms of qualifications, so whoever can secure the biggest investors to ensure the longevity of the company will get a leg up in interviewing for the position.” Yoongi continues nonchalantly.

“Got it?” He taps one last key, stopping only to look up at you.

“Yes, Sir.” You nod, feeling a tightness creep into your chest.

✹✹✹

“Jimin, can you book my accommodations, please?” 

Jimin hands Namjoon a bag of takeout before he rolls his chair up to his desk. 

“Vegas, leaving tomorrow. Business class. King bed. That hotel that’s hosting the conference. You know the deal.” He rattles out, taking the bag of food. 

“Of course, Sir.” Jimin nods, watching Namjoon walk into his office.

Jimin navigates through a few windows on his screen before settling on a corporate travel portal. He’s able to book the flight without a problem, but the hotel is where he’s running into issues. He quickly dials up Taehyung, waiting for the other side of the call to pick up.

“Are you seeing the same thing?” Jimin asks, and Taehyung clicks his tongue.

“No rooms, right-” Jimin starts. “Just one left…” Taehyung cuts in to finish his sentence.

“But shit, there’s your boss and my boss.” Jimin twirls his finger around the coiled cord, pondering what to do next.

Jimin hears a eureka snap on the other end of the line.

“Crazy ass idea here, Jiminie,” Taehyung chuckles. 

"What is it Taehyungie?" Jimin purrs out, the curiosity rising in his voice at the end of the question.

“What if...they just stayed in the same room together? There’s only one King room available, and it’s the last room in the hotel. They’re both so...particular.” Taehyung continues, pressing his mouth into the receiver to keep his voice low.

Jimin throws his head back so far in laughter that his chair tips over. Taehyung hears a crash on the other end of the line, and hears shuffling noises as Jimin gets back up.

“Fell off your chair again?”

“Y-Yeah. God you're a genius! An evil one,” Jimin gathers his breaths. 

“I mean...she’s fucking hot. And she’s single as fuck because she’s holed up here every night.” Taehyung whispers into the receiver, making sure to glance over to check that you’re immersed in work.

“And Joon’s smoking hot, too. He’d melt her icy panties right off,” Jimin clicks his tongue before he slaps his desk.

“Dammit, we’re doing it. Think about it. Off work by five? What a world.” Jimin chirps, clicking away at his screen. “To add an extra layer of fun, I’m checking the romance option.”

“Jimin! Jimin. They’re gonna kill each other.” Taehyung giggles, gasping to catch his breath.

“Either they share a room and let romance bloom, or its whack-a-roach at the Motel 6.” Jimin’s tone is confident, but it makes Taehyung erupt into another fit of laughter.

“What? What’s the worst that could happen?” Jimin commands a response, but Taehyung continues to laugh.

“Mmm...we lose our fucking jobs?” Taehyung responds darkly.

The two pause for a second, but continue laughing into their phones.

✹✹✹

“What’re the topline details for the trip, Tae?” You ask, sliding on your sunglasses and pulling a handle up on your hardside luggage.

“Your flight...as you know is in three hours, and your car’s outside right now.” Taehyung walks up to you, handing you an iPad with a copy of your itinerary. “You’ll be staying at the Palazzo where the conference is held, and check-in should be getting started as soon as you arrive.”

“Mwah. You’re the fucking best,” You chef’s kiss your fingers. “This is exactly why I hired you.”

You pull your luggage behind you, but Taehyung puts his hand up. 

“Try not to get too excited. Please note that the room I was able to secure for you was the last room at the hotel two days before a conference of this size,” Taehyung says, pulling his hands behind his back.

“Okay...your point being?” You ask, pulling your sunglasses down to look into Taehyung’s eyes.

“Uhm, so, how do I put this?” Taehyung asks himself rhetorically, drawing his foot across the floor nervously.

“Tae...” You growl, your gaze slowly turning into a glare.

“Erm, you’ll have to share the room,” He starts. 

“With Kim Namjoon.” He winces as he gets the words out.

Your mouth drops open in shock, and your iPad crashes to the floor.

✹✹✹

You peruse through a luxurious spread of food in the airport lounge: crabsticks with melted butter drizzling from them, exotic finger sandwiches, spreads and dips and the like. You grab tongs, dropping a few items onto a small plate. You quickly look through the drinks on display and decide on sparkling water. 

Suddenly, you spot Namjoon arriving in the lounge and you quickly tuck the bottle of sparkling water into your armpit. You grab your plates, quickly followed by your luggage and make a mad dash for a secluded cubby in the back area.

You quickly throw on your headphones and prop up your iPad as you swipe through a few documents. 

Just as you stuff a crabstick in your mouth, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look at the fingers, then up the veined arm wrapped with white cotton fabric, and you see Namjoon.

He licks his lips, letting out a shy chuckle just before he speaks.

“Did you really just try to avoid me?”

“Mm-maybh, ‘nd wh-r about it?” You blink at him, your words unintelligible as you slowly chew a mouthful of seafood. You furrow your brows, slightly irked by Namjoon seeing you in this state.

“I’m sure those two jokesters told you,” He continues, and you shrug as you delicately bite a small cucumber and cream cheese sandwich. “That you’ll be my roommate for the next two days.”

“I didn’t hear it, and I won’t acknowledge it,” You retort, dropping the last bite of the sandwich in your mouth. “I’m going to find another room if it’s the last thing I do.” You dust crumbs from your hands but stop as Namjoon lets out another light chuckle.

“There aren’t anymore in the whole of Vegas. I checked myself. The only other hotel left in town is the Trump Tower,” He crosses his arms and then shakes his head. “And no one wants to be caught dead there.”

“Fuck!” You can’t help but scream out, and a few people turn to look in your direction. You bury your head in your hands, and comb your hands through your hair in frustration.

Namjoon taps your shoulder again and you look up.

“Finger sandwich?” He asks, licking a finger as you glare up at him.

✹✹✹

A flight attendant walks by the two of you to do a visual safety check, and you’re in the middle seat -- Namjoon in the aisle. 

“Champagne? Champagne? Water?” Another attendant walks by with a tray full of alcoholic beverages. You spot her, reaching over Namjoon to grab a drink off the tray. She lets out a gasp, shock entangling her features. 

The beverage quickly makes its way down your throat, and you slam the plastic cup back on the tray. 

“Sorry. She’s not having the best of days,” Namjoon whispers to her and finishes his off as well, handing it to the attendant. She scoffs, continuing on down the aisle.

You shuffle your hand in your bag to locate your iPad, slipping it from its sleeve. As you look at the screen you sigh, your eyes roving over the deep cracks.

“Please turn all devices to airplane mode as we prepare for departure…”

The plane starts to rattle over the tarmac, turning to face a new direction every so often.

“What the heck happened to that thing?” Namjoon asks, leaning over to look at the fractured device.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” You respond without looking at him. You swipe through a screen of apps before clicking into Keynote. “I scanned through the presentation, and Yoongi was nowhere near done. We’ll need to wrap up by tomorrow evening.”

“We’ll also need to submit some requests to the photographer and Design team so that the remaining graphics and specs will be ready by the time we land in six hours…”

Namjoon nods, watching as you swipe through the slides, breezing through improvements for each. Your words seem to fade out, and he finds himself enamored by your gung-ho nature as he watches you speak.

“Got it?” You ask and notice Namjoon is silent, causing you to turn your head in his direction.

You search his eyes for a response, noticing his pupils are blown as he looks at you. He covers his throat so as to not give away the unexpected heat rising up his skin.

“Sure thing. I’ll have the Product team get right on all of that,” Namjoon responds before he looks down to type an email into his phone.

You look back down at your iPad, nibbling at the inside of your lip as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

You take a second to press your head back to the seat as the plane takes off.

Namjoon reaches below the seat in front of him and pulls out his iPad to begin typing information into the slides. He glances over at you furiously typing and swiping before you grimace.

“Ow, fff-” You growl, looking at your index finger. 

Blood starts to pool in a small cut, and Namjoon takes notice. You look over at him and watch him reach into his bag to pull out a travel-sized first aid kit. He takes out a small alcohol wipe and grabs your finger, pinching the towelette to it. You wince, sucking air in through your teeth.

“You should really get that fixed.” He says as he takes a small bandaid and covers the cut.

“Uhm, I will. Thank you.” You say quietly as you search his eyes, and then tuck your hair behind your ear again. 

You break eye contact with him as your heart starts to patter in your chest...and fuck. You know you're in trouble from here on out.

Namjoon chuckles to himself through his nose as he takes a world newspaper from an attendant.

The newspaper covers his face and you sneak to observe your finger -- trying to not let a smile curl up on the edges of your lips.

✹✹✹

“Checking in?”

A woman asks you in a singsong voice and you nod, motioning for Namjoon to give you his identification card. 

You're tired, hungry and irritable from the flight and certainly not willing to engage with this ultra-chipper woman right now.

“Ugh, beautiful! How long have you two been together?” She asks, smiling as she looks at the two of you.

“We’re not a couple and we’ve only just met, why do you ask?” You inquire, swiping through a few things on a digital screen anchored to the desk in front of you.

“Oh...you’re not?” You stop what you’re doing and look up at her. “No. We’re here for the TechX conference.”

The woman releases a nervous breath from her throat and readjusts her blouse.

“Well...oh my, the room I have booked for the two of you is one of our most romantic rooms.” She giggles out nervously, not sure what to do as she hands you a sleeve of keycards.

“I’m gonna fucking kill Taehyung when I get back,” You grumble, taking your credit card and the sleeve before you march off toward the elevator.

The elevator lobby is packed, and both you and Namjoon slip into a crowded elevator.

You find yourself suddenly sandwiched between the back of a woman and the front of Namjoon, and you tighten your muscles so you don’t make bodily contact with either of them.

The elevator jerks as it reaches the floor before yours, and Namjoon collapses over you. He looks down at you as his hands land to press on the wall on either side of your head as he holds himself up.

“God, sorry,” He groans as he waits for other people to exit before he can steadily stand on his own two feet. Your eyes grow wide as you look up at him, a prickly heat creeping up your throat. His face is so close to yours from the fall that you can feel his breaths on your skin. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, looking over at you as he’s able to stand up straight.

Namjoon thinks nothing of the brief moment, but you gulp and give him a silent nod.

“This is us.” He says before he clears the way, watching you walk out in front of him.

✹✹✹

As you enter the room, you hear smooth jazz floating from a digital radio.

You drop to your knees: you see rose petals on the bed, a bucket with ice and champagne, a towel swan and a bouquet of additional roses wrapped with packages of chocolate. You drop your head into your hands and laugh out loud, and Namjoon looks down at you. His eyes quickly scan the room and he lets out a screech before he covers his stomach to laugh.

“I-I s-swear we were set up,” You gasp for air through your laughs. “God.”

“The wall between the shower and our room is frosted. Frosted!” Namjoon yells as he waves his hand through it to show you as you approach. 

You both can’t help but giggle.

“God. I haven’t laughed that hard in so long,” You mention, swiping a tear hanging on at the edge of your eye. Namjoon smiles, his dimples lighting up his face.

There’s a sudden silence as your eyes meet, and you try to find something to busy yourself with -- deciding on unraveling the towel swan.

“Anyway, I’m gonna shower. We can just relax for now as we wait for everything to come in.” You quickly open your luggage and pull out a swimsuit and a cover up before heading into the bathroom.

“And oh. Please be an adult...no peeking?” You raise your brows as you pop your head from the bathroom. 

Namjoon nods in agreement, beginning to unpack his luggage. He grabs his clothes nonchalantly to head to a nearby drawer, but he unintentionally catches your silhouette in the shower.

Namjoon gulps as he feels a tightness growing in his jeans. He clears his throat, continuing on with placing his clothes into the drawer.

✹✹✹

“Okay, okay, yes. I’m so sorry. It was the best we could do under the circumstances, and yes-” Taehyung nods his head as Jimin takes another bite of a sushi roll.

“Oof, was that her?” Jimin asks, swiping his mouth with a napkin. 

“God, yeah. She’s pissed. And she yelled. She never yells at me, Jiminie.” Taehyung pouts.

Jimin laughs as he throws his head back, rubbing Taehyung’s back.

“Don’t worry Taehyungie,” He giggles. “I’m sure they’ll thank us soon enough.”

Taheyung smiles at him and opens his mouth to receive one of the rolls on his tongue.

The two giggle as they look at each other, mouths full.

✹✹✹

You swim in the Olympic-sized pool at the hotel before you pop up from underneath. 

A hand runs through your hair to smooth it on your head before you start to float on your back. The intense rays of the sun start to heat up your skin, but you nearly moan at how good it feels.

Namjoon settles down in a lounge chair before he sees you with your eyes closed on the water. 

You only have on a swimsuit, but in a man’s mind it was the near-equivalent of seeing you in your underwear. 

Namjoon attempts to sneak away before you can spot him, but your eyes open just as he does.

“Hey! Kim Namjoon! Is that you?” You shout, paddling up to the edge of the pool. He grimaces and meets you at the edge, looking down at you.

“Did you really just try to avoid me?” You throw his question from earlier back at him, smirking.

“What? No.” Namjoon scoffs and clenches his jaw -- a bit delighted, a bit turned on.

You tilt your head and raise your eyebrows, still awaiting a real answer. His thoughts are still racing for a clever response and you can tell he’s caught off-guard.

You emerge from the water, toweling your hair and body. His eyes widen as he tries to keep them focused on your face, and you smirk at him again. 

"Cat got your tongue?" You tease, wringing out your hair.

The devilish look in your eyes shoots straight to his water trunks and he presses his legs together. He quickly wraps the towel in his hand around his waist to cover himself before you detect anything, and your eyes follow his movements.

“Uhm, you know what...I don’t feel too well,” His voice trembles. “I’m gonna go back to the room.”

Namjoon takes off in a hurry, and you scoff as your brows come together in confusion.

✹✹✹

Namjoon lets out a few strained moans as he tugs at cock -- now rock hard and bulging with thick veins. His eyes squeeze shut as you come into memory, and he attempts to regulate his arousal through deep, frantic exhales. 

The way the sun was kissing your body, the movement of the water as it drizzled down into the valley between your breasts, the smirk and banter that lit his desire alight. He gasps as he strokes his cock faster, his grip growing firmer by the second. He feels his balls tighten, his cock growing stiffer with lust. 

He growls as he nears cumming, taking a moment to spit on in his hand and spread it generously over his shaft. He jerks his cock as fast as he can, his wrist snapping in different directions to switch up the sensation of his movements. He bucks into his hand at the last few moments, wondering what it’d be like to have you atop his cock instead. 

Namjoon cries out before his cock hardens, his thick load pulsing in random patterns across his chest. 

"Fuck," He suddenly hears footsteps floating down the hall and he swiftly pulls his trunks up.

He grabs a few tissues from the night table to quickly wipe himself off.

“Namjoon? I’m back,” You announce as you open the door. “The pool’s great, you can’t miss it.”

You enter and he tosses the tissues to the ground.

You observe that Namjoon’s form is rigid and that he’s sitting up on the bed as he scrolls through his phone. Something’s weird and quiet about the energy in the room, but you just shrug it off.

“Hey.” His tone is stoic, but you can sense his voice is caught in his throat before he clears it.

“Should we close out the final pieces of the presentation tonight?” Namjoon continues, his eyes now following you as you walk around the room.

“Sure thing, eight sound good?” You ask, smiling in his direction.

All he can do is look at you with his eyes wide and nod.

✹✹✹

“How’d you find this place?” You ask, picking up one of the books stacked on the table for display.

The rest of the bar is almost like a library -- straight from Beauty and the Beast. You look up and around as bookshelves from every angle are filled with books.

"Your drinks." A waiter arrives, carefully placing each drink on the table.

"I like to wander and I stumbled upon it. I frequent here when I come to Vegas," Namjoon smiles at you, satisfied with himself. "It's a nice place to unwind and get work done outside of the hotel." You nod, impressed with his response.

"I love all of the giant KAWS figurines here, too," You mention, and he turns his head to look at you. "The valuation on those in a few years is gonna be insane."

"Oh, you like art, too?" He tries to hide the gush in his voice, but you chuckle to yourself.

"Sure do." You reply, taking a few small sips from your cup as you look at him.

As Namjoon sips at his Jameson whiskey on the rocks, you can't help but absorb his carefully slicked back hair and the leather jacket on his frame.

Namjoon notices from his peripheral and bites his lip as subtly as he can, drawing his iPad from his briefcase.

After a few minutes, he looks up from what he's typing to see you've already downed half of your drink. You drop the cup from your lips and your eyes grow wide with embarrassment.

"God, sorry, please don't judge me," You chuckle as you peel the drink from your mouth and lick your lips. "They only have good French Martinis in two places in the world. Vegas, and Europe."

Namjoon chuckles back at you, and you notice his eyes float down to your lips. 

Your breath quickens for a second, but he breaks eye contact by looking down. He purses his lips and his dimples pop out before he looks at you through his lashes.

"You've got a little something..." He motions at the foam on your upper lip, and you attempt to swipe it with your tongue. He shakes his head a few times as you continue licking your lips to no avail.

"May I?" He asks warmly. With a nod from you, he takes a miniature napkin to wipe your top lip. He's so close that you can smell the spice of his cologne, and you look into his eyes. 

A slight panic forms in his gaze before he pulls back.

“There.” He says without looking at you, placing the napkin on the table.

Both of you shake the interaction off, and you reach into your bag to pull out your iPad.

"I had Taehyung drop in the graphics. All we have to do is finish up the text," You say as you start to type, and Namjoon brings his focus back to his slides.

"Got it. I had Jimin drop in the brief outline he retrieved from the Product Lead, so we can just work from that as we go along." Namjoon chimes in, and you nod.

"I'll activate the full social strategy and content team back at the office," You continue as you type. "I'll let them know that we're almost locked so they can get ready to fire up the site and social promotions."

Namjoon smiles to himself again, absorbing the incredible synergy between the two of you. It only pushes him harder...and makes him harder. He clenches his jaw as he feels the sensation filling his lower half, but he shakes his leg to stay focused.

"Is there something wrong?" You ask, looking down at his leg.

"Hmm?" He asks, not even noticing his leg still moving. 

"Oh!" He says looking down and stretching his foot out, but it bumps yours instead.

"Fuck. Sorry!" He yelps. You chortle, continuing on with writing. 

You look at him for a bit through your peripheral, admiring his absolute focus on the task at hand. He picks up a pen to draw it around his plump lips, and you can't help but feel a twinge between your thighs. You inhale and let out a breath to take your focus off the sensation.

Just as you do, a crackle of thunder rips through the air and a few customers gasp and break into a din. 

You and Namjoon look at each other, and a few flashes of lightning light up each of your features in the dim bar.

"We should get going before it rains," Namjoon says as he starts to pack his bag. "We can finish this up at the hotel." 

You follow suit.

✹✹✹

As the two of you walk outside, the rain begins to trickle. Despite the warm Vegas air from earlier, the temperature significantly dropped in the evening and it made you shiver.

Namjoon notices, and despite him being cold -- he drops his coat on your shoulders.

"Oh. Please don't do that on my behalf." You say as you look up at him, but he keeps walking.

You couldn't worry long, noticing as raindrops begin to soak Namjoon's white tee.

"Just up here," He looks down at you and points at the hotel, but it suddenly starts to pour. He grabs your hand to quickly pull you across the street before the light changes, and you pull his jacket over your head.

Namjoon doesn't stop running until the two of you land in an empty elevator. He sighs, slicking his wet hair back with a hand. You notice that his shirt is soaked, seeping into the grooves of his firm chest and abdomen.

You arrive at the door to your room, nervously shuffling in your bag for your keycard. You can feel Namjoon's warm breath at the back of your neck, and you feel goosebumps form on your skin.

"Here." He says, reaching around you to insert his key. You feel as his body heat radiates around you as you walk through the door.

As you enter the room you shiver at the blast of air conditioning -- pulling Namjoon's coat further over your shoulders.

Namjoon returns from the bathroom with a towel, and removes his jacket from your frame. 

“Sorry, it’s totally my fault for suggesting a place so far away,” He wraps the warm fluffy towel over your shoulders, and you close your eyes in comfort.

"No, it was really fun," You open your eyes after a few seconds, shaking your head as you look up at him.

Namjoon almost looks away as you open your eyes, but his gaze fixates on yours -- causing you to lose the breath in your throat as you quickly look down.

"Thank you." Your voice only manages to come out in a whisper. You somehow get the courage to let your eyes scan his body, and then look back up to meet him still looking down at you.

Namjoon’s chest lightly rises and falls as neither of you break eye contact -- his eyes floating to your lips. He tucks your hair behind your ear, and your breath catches in your throat. His thumb moves to trace over your jawline and your bottom lip as he moves in to hover his lips over yours.

The air buzzes with a sparkling heat as your lips brush together -- neither of you wanting to be the first to make a move.

“We shouldn’t do this, right?” He whispers, the tip of his nose grazing over yours.

"No..." You whisper back, a bated desire in your voice. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” You give him a slow nod, drawing your bottom lip in-between your teeth.

You lick your lips and he tilts your head to the side, his own lips inside the shell of your ear before he speaks.

“That red dress...from yesterday? It was all I could think about for the rest of the night.” The deep vibrations from his voice causes you to let out a satisfied moan as you tilt your head back.

“Does that turn you on?” He asks, his hands sliding down your body to grip your hips.

A heated lust overcomes you, and you let your lips feverishly embrace his. Your hands roam up his wet body and land over his shoulders before you pull him closer to you by the back of his neck. The momentum dizzies you both and your back slams into the wall.

His hands move to your waist as he covers you, pulling you flush against his hard, wet body. It causes your lips to part, and he slips his searing tongue into your mouth. You easily lose the upper hand as he grips your ass, causing you to let out a whine into his mouth. His plush lips kiss at your neck, and you run your hands through his damp hair as his kisses reach your collarbones.

Namjoon moves to wipe all of the items off a cabinet near you, and the chocolate and roses crash to the floor. He throws you on top of the surface, his lips eagerly gliding over yours.

Namjoon's hands roam up your dress and on the outside of your thighs as his fingers tuck under the top of the fabric of your underwear. He tugs at the fabric as if he's going to remove it, but he jerks it up hard instead -- soothing the growing ache between your thighs. He twists the fabric in a bunch so he can keep pulling at it in intervals to soothe your clit.

Your head falls back in desperation and he takes the opportunity to suck a hickey into the exposed skin. He nibbles at the skin harder and you gasp, gripping the back of his mullet.

Namjoon growls into your ear as you pull his hair, and yanks your underwear down each of your thighs.

Just as he does, he feels his wrist buzz. He pulls from your lips to look at his watch.

[Assistant: Park Jimin.]

Namjoon lets out a long exhale through his nose. He rests his forehead on yours, both of your lips still swollen and vibrating from the session.

"I have to take this," He lets out in a deep exhale before touching a green icon on his watch to receive the call.

"Are you alright, Sir?" Jimin asks, hearing Namjoon’s intense breaths cooling on his end.

"Just came from the gym, don't worry about me. What’s on fire?" He breathes out, and the edges of your lips curl upward at the lie.

"Nothing at all, Sir. I've just called to give your daily rundown as requested." Namjoon sighs, forgetting it’s something he did in fact ask for.

“Can I call you back in five?” Namjoon asks, and you shake your head.

After Jimin hangs up, Namjoon immediately dives back into your lips. You savor it for a few seconds, but you tease him a few times as you pull away.

"I think we should finish up in the morning and get to bed," You whisper, your hand floating down his cheek. "Long day tomorrow." You bite your lip as you look into his eyes.

Namjoon lightly growls in disappointment as he pulls you down from the top of the cabinet.

You lift your hair up into a ponytail, and you turn around and look over your shoulder.

“Mind helping me with the zip?” You ask, and you feel the heat from his breath at the back of your neck drawing goosebumps from your skin. His breaths shallow out with every inch of the zip, and he lets out a light groan as it ends at the curve of your back -- just before your ass.

“Thanks.” You whisper as you head toward the bathroom, looking over your shoulder once more with a grin before you disappear around the corner.

Namjoon waits to make sure you’re gone before he screams into his fist out of frustration.

✹✹✹

“Seeya, I’m gonna head over to the conference hall to start getting prepped,” Namjoon mentions, stuffing a croissant in his mouth as he picks up his briefcase. “You said you’ll be a few minutes behind me, right?” He asks, using his free hand to push his glasses up his nose.

“Uhm, sure! Yes! Yesyesyesyes. Have a nice day!” You nod eagerly, your eyes wide as you watch him head toward the door. He furrows his brows, finding you a bit too enthusiastic.

As the door shuts, you hear his footfalls disappear down the hall and you toss your robe to the ground.

You take in a deep inhale. You knew you needed to be focused for this presentation, and you definitely couldn't have what happened last night top of mind.

Where to start? Him eyeing you in the office? The wet t-shirt? Oh, yes. There.

You sink down in the bed and slowly spread your legs, your fingers gliding over your already wet lips. You gasp in pleasure as you recall his plump lips dragging on your neck -- his teeth embedded in the sensitive flesh. It’s enough for you to dip a finger inside of yourself -- make it two -- before you let out a moan.

The thing that really made you wet, though, was his mind. The fucking book bar? Kudos. His knowledge of the product? Points. A tattered copy of a book about love? You were practically dripping down your thighs at the thought. Those nerdy glasses he wore before he left this morning? Fuck me.

It’s all enough to make you cum until-

Bzz. Beep.

You quickly draw the covers up on your frame and you can feel your cheeks burning as Namjoon enters the room.

“I...left my coffee...” He says cautiously, seeing your robe on the floor before his eyes meet yours. “Uhm, sorry?” His voice comes out in a high, questioning pitch -- and he grabs his coffee before he hurries himself out the door.

As the door shuts, you kick your feet around in the bed and then slap your forehead.

Fuck. He caught you.

[ellenembee]

The Revelation of All Things - 41. In which outcasts gotta stick together

Read the full fic on AO3.

Read on Tumblr (desktop)

The reveal of Grand Duchess Florianne's murderous intent had been nothing compared to the astonished whispers at the emergence of the Empress, the Inquisitor and the elven ambassador, Briala, from the tete-a-tete between the powers. Duke Gaspard had been exiled for treason based on all the incriminating evidence they'd found skulking through the Winter Palace, but despite all the things they'd discovered about the ambassador, Briala was now at the Empress' side.

Dorian snickered behind his glass of wine. The Inquisitor was playing matchmaker, eh? During their exploration of the Royal Wing, they'd found Briala's locket among Celene's personal effects, and Evana must have used that information to bring the two women back together. She’d placed Celene safely in power, but with Briala as Marquise of the Dales, the elves would also have a chance at raising themselves to a more equal status. He had to hand it to the Inquisitor. She might hate the Game, but she seemed to play quite well.

Grabbing another bottle of a fine vintage, Dorian found a dark, secluded corner of a balcony and made himself comfortable. Compared to a Tevinter party, the night had only just begun, but Dorian had already tired of the unending parade of snide remarks and gallingly rude questions. And with the revelation of Florianne's Tevinter agents murdering people in the palace, his reception had gone from mildly chilly to downright frigid. It seemed better to beat a hasty retreat… with a glass and some fine wine, of course.

Leaning against the cool stone wall, he sipped his wine under the comforting shroud of darkness and stared into the night sky. He allowed his thoughts to wander as the wine warmed his limbs and the merry lights across the palace took on a pleasant haze of intoxication.

The scuffle of dragging feet drew his attention, and he turned to watch the Inquisitor walk slowly across the balcony to lean heavily on the railing. He made to emerge from the shadows when he saw Morrigan had wandered out onto the balcony as well. If he'd cared about propriety and social convention, he might have revealed himself, but as it was... well, he'd rather hear what the mage had to say. He'd let Evana know he'd overheard later.

"The Orlesian nobility make drunken toasts to your victory, and yet you are not present to hear them? Do you tire so quickly of their congratulations, Inquisitor? 'Tis most fickle, after all your efforts on their behalf."

"I would have stayed,” Evana deadpanned, “but the punch ran dry. Scandalous."

Dorian nearly spit wine in astonishment even as his chest swelled with pride. She never would've said that sort of thing out loud before he and Varric got a hold of her.

But Morrigan was speaking again. Dorian strained to hear their soft voices above the music floating out of the ballroom.

"Indeed? Let us see if you take this piece of news as poorly. By Imperial decree, I have been named liaison to the Inquisition. Celene wishes to offer you any and all aid - including mine. Congratulations."

Evana did not answer immediately, and Dorian rearranged himself to get a better view of the two mages. Finally, the weary elf leaned her hip against the banister and cross her arms - her defensive posture.

"I had no idea you were interested in joining the Inquisition."

Morrigan shrugged. "The assignment has been given to me, regardless of my personal interest. Celene knows you face an opponent who wields great magical power, which is far more important than her own curiosity. You will require my knowledge if you are to defeat such magic. Corypheus is a threat to Orlais... and to myself. Thus, I am not opposed to the appointment."

Evana's stance relaxed a bit, but she still exuded wariness. "You mentioned knowledge. What skills do you have that would benefit the Inquisition?"

"I have knowledge which falls... beyond the realm of most mages. I suspect this is also true of Corypheus. Thus it behooves you to add to your arcane arsenal, yes? Mundane knowledge will not bring the rift in the sky to close, after all."

Evana tensed. And Dorian understood why. The Inquisitor's tone took on an acerbic edge.

"So, when you say 'knowledge beyond the realm of most mages,' do you mean blood magic?"

Clearly Evana had tired of the game. She was back to her lovely self - with a large dose of new-found confidence, it seemed. The tentative, withdrawn elf he'd first met in Redcliffe had been replaced by a cool, confident leader. He couldn't be more proud. Morrigan, unaware of the transformation, took it all in stride.

"I know many obscure, forgotten, and forbidden arts. Some of it you might consider blood magic, yes. Should thought of that frighten you, allow me to offer reassurance. Knowledge alone does no harm. What I possess, I place at your disposal to make use of or ignore as you desire."

Evana relaxed once more, this time allowing her arms to drop. "You did help me earlier. I'm sorry if I seem suspicious. This place is enough to make anyone paranoid... Welcome to the Inquisition, Morrigan."

"A most gracious response," Morrigan responded with a tilt of her head. "I shall meet you at Skyhold."

Dorian shrunk back behind a pillar by the doorway as Morrigan passed through. When he relaxed once more, he found Evana leaning on the balcony railing, both hands placed flat on the wide stone. The weight of the evening, indeed of the last few months, seemed to press upon her in this unguarded moment. Her head drooped and shoulders slumped, and Dorian's heart went out to her. As different as they were - and as much as he would never dream of saying it aloud - her consistent and solid support had meant the world to him in Redcliffe. He owed her at least an attempt to cheer her up.

Dorian quietly collected his wine bottle and prepared to step out of the shadows once again but stopped when he saw that the Commander had beaten him to it. Well, that settled things. He certainly wasn't leaving now. Not when it would be much more fun to eavesdrop on the awkwardly adorable lovers. Cullen would make her feel better, and Dorian would get a little entertainment for his troubles tonight. Win, win.

"There you are. Everyone's been looking for you. Things have calmed down for the moment..."

Cullen approached the railing and stood next to her. At his words, she leaned down further so her elbows rested on the wide stone, hands hanging listlessly off the edge. Cullen did the same.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a low, concerned tone.

So adorable, I think I might be sick.

"I'm just worn out," she sighed. "Tonight has been... very long."

Although they faced away from him, Dorian could imagine the rueful half smile on Cullen's face as he responded. "For all of us. I'm glad it's over."

Cullen paused, but only for a moment. Lifting his hand to rest lightly her shoulder, he lowered his voice, and Dorian had to strain to hear him speak.

"I know it's foolish - you are more than capable of taking care of yourself - but I was worried for you tonight."

She lifted her hand to cover his for just a moment before letting her hand drop. Cullen backed away from the railing. For a split second, Dorian thought he might have to intervene. What was the lummox doing, leaving so soon? She clearly wasn't feeling... oh...

"I may never have another chance like this, so... I must ask." Cullen stepped back and bowed before Evana, extending his hand. "May I have this dance, my lady?"

A-dor-a-ble!

The smile that spread across the pretty elf's face nearly caused Dorian to laugh out loud. This was simply too much. Her voice epitomized that of a pleased lover as she turned and placed her hand in his.

"Of course. But I thought you didn't dance?"

Cullen chuckled as he closed his hand around hers and pulled her to him. "For you. I'll try."

The two spun about the balcony for several minutes simply staring into each other's eyes before settling down into a much slower pace. The elf's grace couldn't entirely overcome Cullen's ineptitude at dancing, but it merely added to their poetry - him all muscle and brute force and her a lithe but deadly beauty. Dorian decided that if he were ever to write poetry, they would be the perfect muse.

Eventually, they moved further away from the doors and deeper into the dim corner of the balcony. Evana circled her arms around Cullen's waist and rested her head on his chest. He slipped his arms around her, his hands clasped and resting on the small of her back and his cheek on the crown of her head. Dorian continued to quietly drink his wine, his mirth slowly dissolving into a strange kind of tranquility. Despite the overwhelming sweetness of it all - something Dorian would normally find laughable and in which he would certainly find a wealth of ammunition for his own special brand of sarcasm - it was actually quite relaxing to watch them. He hadn't realized how comfortable the two had become with each other. They might actually make it out of this mess together.

A strange mixture of emotions poured into his chest - a little bit of jealousy, a larger portion of happiness for his friends and a few vague, unnamable emotions swirling around in the depths. He'd never had a true relationship. Not like what he was witnessing right now. In Tevinter, his preferences were considered shameful, and if one decided to indulge them, one certainly didn't try to have a relationship after. It was sex. Period. Dorian thought he'd been happy with that. But these two - these seeming opposites who were inexplicably well-suited for each other - stirred in him a desire for more. What might it be like to have a true partner by his side? Someone to love him and support him?

His mind lingered briefly on his recent, strange interactions with a certain Qunari companion. The attention, though often vulgar, certainly satisfied a perverse desire inside him to be admired by everyone. Such admiration rarely came his way here in the south - at least not after his origins became known. He harbored no shame about being from Tevinter, but his self-importance certainly took a hit from the cold shoulders and narrowed glances, as if people expected demons to sprout up from the ground behind him wherever he walked. Perhaps that explained why Bull’s words simultaneously embarrassed and pleased him.

Not that he believed anything could come of it. Even a purely physical relationship would be dangerous considering Bull only pretended to be Tal-Vashoth. Contemplating more would be insanity - how could a person ever trust someone who followed the Qun?

And, impossible as it may seem, I’ve had too much wine if am I thinking about that filthy, giant, walking wall of muscle as a potential partner.

The sound of Cullen’s voice murmuring something in Evana’s ear interrupted Dorian’s downward spiral. He leaned forward, trying to hear them. Evana replied, but he only caught the last half.

"-just as guilty as the other, but with Gaspard exiled and Briala at her side, Celene has a chance to really unify Orlais. And... and elves have a chance to improve their standing in society with Briala as the first elven noblewoman. I know you were hoping for Gaspard, but…"

Cullen shook his head. "As long as Orlais remains at peace and we have their full support in our fight against Corypheus, I am satisfied. Gaspard is the right choice for war, but I understand Josephine's argument. How would he lead at the end of this war? I think we could have brokered peace, but Gaspard certainly would have required more work in the long run."

"I'm glad you're not upset... I... I was worried you might be."

Cullen smiled and pressed his lips her temple. "Please trust me that I trust you. And I'm not going to be upset if you don't follow my advice to the letter. As our first encounter with your clan taught us, I don't always give the best advice." He paused as she laughed lightly and then pulled back to look her in the eye as he continued. "Nor do I think my way is the only way. There are usually multiple paths to a desired end. I can give you one path, but that's why we also have Josephine and Leliana. They provide other paths, other choices. I know you'd never do anything that you thought would harm anyone. As long as it gets the job done, just point me in the right direction, Inquisitor."

"Hmmm... Such wisdom - and such trust, Commander. I think you might be my favorite advisor. Don't tell Josie or Leliana."

Cullen smiled again and briefly leaned down to touch his forehead to hers. His voice was quiet, but they were closer to Dorian now, and he just made out, "I wouldn't dream of it."

After a brief pause as they continued to circle the balcony, Evana spoke up in a jovial, teasing tone. "I'm glad I was finally able to steal you away from your admirers."

Dorian stifled a chuckle at Cullen's long-suffering groan. The man was clearly not used to being oogled.

"In the name of all that is holy,” he began in a harsh tone, “if I never see another noble, it will be too soon! I even explicitly told them I was..." He cleared his throat before continuing. "... That I was taken, but it seemed to make no difference."

Evana's teasing took on a tinge of sympathy. "Was it that awful?"

"I know I shouldn't complain when you all were out there risking your lives,” he admitted through a heavy sigh, “but... Maker's breath! I don't know how many times I was manhandled by those ravenous beasts."

"They actually touched you?" Dorian perked up at the dangerous tone in Evana's voice. Jealousy rearing its ugly head?

"One of them grabbed my bottom for sure."

"Which one?” she asked, playing at pulling away from him to go find the person who’d accosted him. “I could immolate them right now. Celene would surely look the other way after all I've done for her tonight."

Cullen laughed quietly as he pulled her back and hugged her tighter against him. "That won't be necessary, but I do appreciate the sentiment."

They were barely moving anymore, just swaying back and forth in time to the music. Dorian smirked. Unless they want the entire Orlesian court to know they're an item, they ought to separate... and soon. As soon as the Commander's back was to the door, effectively blocking both their views, Dorian stealthily moved away from his hiding place and to the door. He immediately turned back around and, raising his glass and bottle, proceeded to scare them both into maintaining a more appropriate distance.

"Why hello! Aren't you two just adorable? How long have you been out here staring dreamily into each other's eyes?"

Cullen gave him a half embarrassed, half irritated glance. "Good evening - or rather, good morning, Dorian. Having a bit of wine to celebrate our victory?"

Dorian snorted. It wasn't fashionable, but he realized he was actually a little bit drunk. No wonder his thoughts had run away with him earlier. He swirled the small bit of wine still coating the bottom of the bottle as he spoke.

"If by 'a bit,' you mean two bottles in, then yes. Don't worry, though. I've got a high tolerance. And I imagine we'll be leaving soon anyway."

Walking up to them, Dorian bowed and held his hand out to Evana. "Which means I need a dance from you, my dear. You need to be seen dancing with someone other than a murdering Grand Duchess and your Commander, otherwise, tongues might start wagging... unless you are happy to let your little love affair become the gossip of Orlais?"

They both sighed and looked at each other. "I should check in with Josephine and Leliana," Cullen reluctantly admitted with a huff.

Cullen stepped away from Evana, bowed and gave her a particular look before leaving them to the balcony. Evana sighed and wistfully looked after Cullen as Dorian began twirling her around the balcony. After all their practice sessions, they fit together quite well. A dancing mage duo for the ages.

"Oh, don’t worry, he'll be alright now,” Dorian assured her. “I've got Cassandra on duty."

Evana looked at him, nonplussed. "You what?"

"I told Cassandra to be his bodyguard for the rest of the ball. Based on her glower, I thought she might start throwing punches at nobles if left to her own devices."

Evana let out an amused puff of air through her nose and smiled. "I'm sure Cullen will be grateful. Cole was even worried about him tonight - said the fat heads were 'hunting' him."

"Well, he is quite a delectable hunk of man,” Dorian agreed with a laugh. “You've caught yourself quite the specimen."

She smiled shyly. "I know. And I owe it all to you."

"To me?" Dorian asked in genuine surprise. "But it was Cole who gave you that tiny insight into Cullen's brain. Tell me honestly, if Cole hadn't 'helped' as he likes to call it, would you ever have spoken to Cullen?"

Evana looked away. Contrary to his natural inclination, he didn’t pressure her for an answer. He merely led her through a few more rounds. Finally, she shrugged.

"I honestly don't know. I'd like to think we would have gotten there eventually. It was more about... well... I guess I couldn't even admit it to myself, but it was more about me truly and irrevocably giving up my clan than anything else."

Dorian stopped abruptly, and Evana nearly tumbled to the ground.

"Creators, Dorian! What-"

"What do you mean, giving up your clan?"

Evana sighed and tried to let go of Dorian. He held her firmly in place as she looked down and then to the side. Anywhere but at him.

"Didn't you know?" she finally answered dryly - only the faint tremor in her voice betrayed her emotions. "I'm surprised with all your research that you haven't come across that little tidbit, yet. Elves who choose to be with humans are disowned by their clans. It's one of the few things all Dalish can agree on."

He could only stare at her. "Does... Cullen know?"

"N-not explicitly... but he asked a question last night that brought it to mind. Based on what I told him, I'm sure he'll reach that conclusion soon, if he hasn't already."

"Are you having second thoughts?" Evana finally turned to look at him, shock written all over her face. "Wha- no! I wouldn't trade what I have with him - with you all - for anything. I never would have admitted my feelings to him if I weren’t serious about... well, us, I guess. It's just... there's a certain amount of guilt that comes with turning your back on everything you've ever known. I don't want Cullen to have to deal with that. He's got enough on his shoulders."

Dorian gave her a sardonic grin and started them moving again. "I certainly have no idea what you're talking about. None at all."

Evana nodded gave him and sympathetic smile. "Exactly. It's one of the reasons... one reason I feel more comfortable talking to you about this. But I suppose we're all misfits in our own way here in the Inquisition." She squeezed his arm as she spoke. "It's been easier the longer I'm away. I always had a fairly academic understanding of the Elvhen pantheon, but when I began studying Elvhen lore during my apprenticeship, my tenuous faith in the pantheon as true gods pretty much faded away. Discussions with Solas since joining the Inquisition have only strengthened that feeling."

"A crisis of faith more than a crisis of family, then?"

"For the Dalish, I'm not sure there's a distinction between the two. Our religion is our culture. It is who we are. To deny the Elvhen gods and defy the necessity for pure Elvhen bloodlines are one and the same in their eyes."

Dorian couldn't think of anything more to say. He’d already emptied his wine bottle, or he'd have had a drink. Evana stopped their dance and pulled at his hand as she moved toward the door.

"Come on. Let's go see if the others are ready to get out of here. I feel a bit like a walking corpse."

"Evana..."

He hesitated, unsure of what to say, but her face as she looked back at him over her shoulder - a sort of goofy, accepting expression – caused him to simply smile at her. What could he say that they hadn't already?

"Very well,” he finally relented. “I think they're out of the good wine anyway."

Evana squeezed his hand. "That's the spirit!"

She dragged him into the ballroom, and shortly thereafter, they were on their way back to the inn. Dorian smirked at Cullen as Evana slid into the seat beside the commander and promptly fell asleep while leaning against his arm. Cullen gently reached around her to pull her against him more firmly and then firmly avoided Dorian’s gaze by looking out the darkened window.

A small, rather wistful sigh from his left drew Dorian’s attention to his seatmate, Cassandra. Even in the dim moonlight, Dorian could see the tender expression on the stoic warrior’s face as she gazed at the scene opposite them. She seemed to sense him watching her and suddenly slouched into her seat with a huff. Dorian couldn’t hold back his low chuckle.

As the wheels clicked over cobblestone roads, he found himself wondering at Evana’s sudden admission to him about her clan. Although, after all that had happened during the course of the evening, he supposed she had good reason to be thinking of her clan. He'd heard the slurs against Evana tonight - likely even more than she'd heard herself. He'd grown up with elves as slaves, so he was barely any better than the Orlesian pigs who spoke of their Inquisitor as if she were chattel or a plaything for their amusement. It was easy to ignore the suffering of others when you never had to experience the hardship yourself.

However, being here, where Southerners eyed "'Vints" with distrust and disdain, had opened his eyes to his own hypocrisy. The whispered insults and thinly veiled jabs still clung to him like a bad odor. It wasn't nearly enough to make him want to go back to Tevinter, but like her, an evening such as this could only end in a fleeting nostalgia for the life he'd left behind, a weariness of the prejudices that left him forever in the fringes. In a rare fit of honest reflection, he admitted to himself that he carried a certain amount of undue disdain for Southerners. However, he could also admit that he’d found good and reasonable people amongst the supposed barbarians of the South. His growing friendship with Cullen was testament to that.

The carriage jolted to a stop in front of the inn, and Dorian helped Cullen guide the tired elf up to her room. Before even unlocking her door, Evana turned, slid her hands around Dorian's waist and squeezed him hard.

"Thank you for everything tonight,” she mumbled into his chest. “I know it probably wasn't fun being around all those rude people. Just know that I appreciate you."

Dorian smiled, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed the elf on the top on the head. She must have overheard a few things about him, too. After a moment, he loosened his grasp.

"Now, now. That's enough seriousness for one night. To bed with you, heathen."

Cullen had stepped back for their exchange, but now he moved forward. To Dorian's surprise, Cullen leaned down to kiss her. It was quick - not at all like the kiss Dorian had accidentally witnessed before they left for the Western Approach - but it surprised him. Dorian had never thought the private and stoic Commander of the Inquisition would ever kiss a woman in front of an audience, even an audience of one. Perhaps they were both just that comfortable around him? The thought gave him an odd feeling in his chest, but he decided not to parse it further - not right now.

She smiled up at Cullen. "Goodnight, vhenan."

"Sleep well, Evana."

Evana turned, unlocked her door and then waved shyly at them both before closing the door behind her. Dorian gave Cullen a sidelong glance.

"You know, you don't have to keep up appearances for me."

Cullen had started to turn away, but he stopped to face Dorian now, a confused look on his face. "I'm not sure I-"

"I won't tell anyone if you just join her now instead of later."

"W-wha-?" Cullen stuttered as he rubbed the back of his neck and blushed furiously. "Oh... I... um... we don't..."

It was Dorian's turned to be confused. "I'm sorry. I had thought you two were together. At least, that's what slow dancing on deserted balconies and kissing on battlements, outside stables and in the middle of a hallway says to me."

"Uh... no... I mean, yes, we are together, but..." He sighed and dropped his hand. "We're... taking things slowly, and I'd rather not discuss it further than that."

Dorian quirked an eyebrow. For a moment, he debated needling the man further, but the Commander had likely already been pushed to his limits tonight. He affected a nonchalant expression and waved a dismissive gesture at the other man.

"As you wish. Sleep well."

"Goodnight, Dorian."

Dorian turned and headed for his own room, brows pulling together in consternation. They weren't sleeping together? As he walked down the hall to his own room, Dorian tried to comprehend the reasons for such a thing, but he simply couldn't. They were obviously in love. If one were given to theatrics - which of course he was - one might even say they were meant for each other. Perhaps he'd had too much wine or was just too tired to process things properly. It would require a more thorough investigation, and if Cullen wouldn't talk about it, he'd have to come at it from the other direction. At least now he knew why Evana had refused to talk about Cullen's finer points during their trip. She didn't know any more about them than Dorian did.

Dorian unlocked his door, stripped down and flopped into bed. He'd think on it more tomorrow.