#so Lanil also didn't notice until now lol

[spainkitty]

Rated M for Mechanics Part I

(this part stays M, Part II goes E)

tw: two 30 yr old virgins, awkwardness, fluff, too much fluff, Cullen blushes and we appreciate that in a man, Cullavellan/Cullurana? I wish tumblr mobile had friggin read more, or that it would delete my paragraph spacing!!!

Lanil's Pieces Masterlist

Part II

This desk barely budged when she lay back on it, dragging Cullen down with her. His armor was probably scratching the hell out of the wood, and he was pressing down on her a little too heavily, but she didn't care. She was starving, thirsty, aching and desperate under the onslaught of his kisses. It felt different, urgent, like she couldn't get satiated. Her hands couldn't stop moving, digging into his hair, tugging at his fur collar, nails scraping over steel and wishing it wasn't there.

They kept making noises, and somewhere in her head, she thought she should be humiliated by them. But each groan he made, the gasps they shared, even that stupid whimper she let out when he dragged a kiss down her ear, her jaw, pressing teeth and lips to her neck, made her heart beat faster. Her blood run hotter.

She was dizzier than being drunk.

His hands were on her hips, pulling her closer, stroking down her thighs to hitch her up and then--

"Oh." She froze. And then he froze.

She stared up at him, chest heaving against his armor, and blinked. Because he was very obviously pressed against the front of her breeches and that was. Yup.

"You want to have sex."

She said it bluntly, dumbfounded, while the realization ran through her head.

"Maker's breath, I... I should've asked, or... Not at all. Right, of course not," he muttered. His face was so red, it looked burned.

She couldn't help the smirk, bordering on soppishly fond, as she caught his face in her hands. Let the blush of his cheeks warm her palms.

"I was just surprised. It didn't even cross my mind, but it's there now. Give me one second to process?"

"Pro...cess?" Cullen repeated. A truly ridiculous thing happened to his expression, like he was trying to frown and smile at the same time.

Her own smile widened.

"Yes. I've never had sex before, but I get the mechanics of it, as a healer. Wynne did that whole talk when we were apprentices." She waved a hand in the air negligently.

Cullen groaned and his forehead thumped on her collarbone. "The mechanics of it?"

"Yes, exactly. It seemed rather.... messy and uncomfortable theoretically." The sound he let out was pained and quiet. "And Varric's book, I was told by many trustworthy sources, including Varric himself, is a bit improbable."

"You read that?"

"Cassandra likes it."

"She does?" He pushed up on his hands to hover over her, pure shock on his face. Lanil grinned.

"Shush, it's a secret."

He laughed, shoulders shaking and the unease completely gone.

Good.

She traced down his scar, over his smiling mouth, down to his chin. With a finger, she guided his face to meet her gaze directly.

"If it's with you, then I'll like it."

His eyes fluttered shut and she felt his sigh.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that. I haven't... haven't either."

Lanil tilted her head to the side with a confused frown.

"But you didn't make celibacy vows."

"No, I--"

"And you're handsome in that classically Ferelden human way."

"Um, thank you? I think?"

"You've had at least twelve marriage proposals since Halamshiral."

"It's over twenty now and why would I have slept with any of them!? Do you know the obscene offers some of them made?"

Lanil burst out laughing. "No, I don't. Why don't you tell me so we two thirty year old virgins can get ideas?"

"Oh, I have ideas."

Lanil raised an eyebrow at the blush on Cullen's face that was so at odds with the words he said and the smirk he wore. Then, he moved back, wrapping one arm around her waist and lifting her up as he got to his feet.

"That was... smooth. Very smooth," she noted, a little breathlessly, arms already around his shoulders to help hold herself up. "But you can't carry me up the ladder, you know that, right?"

"Lane," he said on a sigh. So exasperated and fond.

She smiled into the next kiss, felt his own, before they sunk into it for real. His free hand stroked up her back, cupped the nape of her neck, and tilted her head back so he could kiss down her throat again. Sucking and biting lightly down the curve of her neck and shoulder. A shudder ran down her spine and she wanted more.

Maybe she'd wanted sex too and didn't even realize it? Is that what the burning low in her belly was this whole time? Why she felt so dizzy and needy the more he kissed her?

There was only one way to find out.

She wriggled away, kissed the frown between his eyebrows, and dropped to her feet.

"I'm going up the ladder. And then you can follow me," she told him, a finger at the middle of his chest to hold him back.

He swallowed thickly. "Right."

She smirked and turned quickly, before she could get distracted again, and headed up with the ease of long practice. There had been a lot of ladders in her life recently. Because she had the chance while Cullen started up after her, Lanil began to snoop. His bed was made too neatly, without a single wrinkle, so either he was anally neat (which was possible), or he never slept there (even more possible). There was a stand for a dress or robes, but she realized a moment later it was for armor. Of course. Despite how neat his bed and personal effects were kept, there was a oddly out of place heap of lumber in the far corner. Lastly, she made her way over to a simple, unadorned wooden chest with only clothes inside when she peeked under the lid.

"What are you doing?" Cullen asked, amused.

She looked over her shoulder to see him taking off a glove, setting it beside the other before reaching for the armor on his forearms. Heat prickled up and down her spine, and she turned away again, hands clasped behind her back.

"Obviously I'm being nosy," she said without an ounce of shame. She picked up the papers scattered on the small table by his bed. Reports. Lists. Notes about the reports and lists. She snorted quietly, set it all aside, and found the book.

A Chant of Light. She flipped through it, noting how supple the leather was, how the edges of the parchment were worn smooth. It smelled old. Not ancient, just old. She opened to the first page and saw Rutherford written in black ink so faded a few of the letters were illegible.

Of course the good Andrastian boy had his family's Chant book years after he left home. She shook her head and set it down, frowning briefly at the breeze rippling the loose leaves of paper and trailing along the back of her neck. She glanced around, looking for the open window to close it--

And her jaw dropped. She walked to the edge of the loft, boots rocking at the lip of it, before she spun around.

"What in the Void is that?" she demanded.

The breastplate in his hands slipped, barely saved from thudding to the ground.

"Maker's--what? What is what?" Cullen asked, looking around in concern.

"The hole, Cullen. There's a hole in your roof, no, that's giving your roof too much credit, since that is not a roof. How did I never notice that!?" Her neck craned back as she gaped at it. "I thought it was cold because you don't have a fireplace. Are you crazy?"

"There are much more important repairs and I'm comfortable enough," Cullen protested. He came up beside her to pull her away from the edge. "You're going to fall."

"Comfortable?" she repeated incredulously. Lanil tapped his chest with her fist and glared up at him. "You have work at your bedside and more hole than roof. No wonder you're always tired."

"The lyrium withdrawal and running an army does take its toll," Cullen said, his mouth twitching.

"Don't sass me when I'm right." That twitch became a grin and his arm slunk around her waist all sneaky-like. But she allowed it. "You obviously need someone to take care of you."

He laughed, forehead bumping hers gently. "Who, you? I've seen you in a fight now. I know how little you take care of yourself."

"Of course not me. I was thinking Dorian. He understands men much better than I do. He'll have you fixed right up."

Lanil yelped as Cullen lifted her and tossed her onto the bed. She fell back laughing, hands twisting in the linen tunic he wore to drag him down after her the moment he leaned close. They were grinning too much to kiss properly, but neither cared. They were too busy touching, searching, pulling at the remaining layers to find bare skin and keep touching. His knee was between her thighs, and when his weight lowered, the pressure had her gasping.

"Are you--"

"Okay. Yes, I am," she interrupted fervently.