Stuck on the Puzzle - Dragon Age Inquisition - Bull/Cullen

A Level of Challenge 4

'I can't do this,' Cullen said. There, it was out in the open now. He could blame Bull's flogger. He could blame the exposed position. He could blame everything else but ultimately, he couldn't keep his hands flat. A simple thing designed for his benefit. All that supposed, vaunted self-control, and where was it?

'You can,' Bull said. 'There's no shame if you need to stop. Need a break. But you've done great so far, really great. Unclench your fist.'

Cullen did, almost without thinking. He turned his head towards Bull's voice, wanting to be closer to it, the inside of his knees gripping the chair he straddled.

'You believe I can do this?' Cullen said.

'Yeah,' Bull said, voice warm and sounding like it had a smile in it. 'I really do. You need a break?'

'The pain's different,' Cullen said, like that explained everything. To him, it did.

'Yeah,' Bull agreed, letting go of his wrist. 'Harder to take, right?'

Cullen went back to staring ahead because he felt chastened somehow. As though Bull was pointing something out to him. As though he was saying, 'see, you can't do this the way you think you can.' Perhaps he was trying to prove that Cullen didn't really have a high pain threshold. Perhaps he-

'Hey,' Bull said, 'talk to me. You need a break?'

'I need something,' Cullen spat in frustration, and then lifted his hands clear off the table when his fingers curled into fists. Did he really do it that often? His arms were still shaking, so he lowered them back to the table again.

Bull shifted to Cullen's other side. A scrape of the other chair on the ground that was abrasive and just one more irritating thing. Then, a hand that fell broad and flat on his shoulder and Cullen hissed and went still. But it commanded his attention, he turned his head towards Bull. After a beat, Bull's hand moved to the back of Cullen's unmarked neck and teased gently at his hairline.

'You were really close,' Bull said. 'I could hear it in your breathing. This particular flogger though. It's a mean one. I didn't realise when I got it at the time. I was new to buying floggers and didn't really know what to look for. I thought if it had knots tied in the end, it was hardcore. And that if it was huge and black and terrifying looking, it was hardcore. And there was this red thing with thin leather straps and I was like, 'oh, that looks perfect.' Turns out I was wrong!'

He sounded cheerful, and Cullen clung to every word in the story. It was hard to imagine Bull ever needing to start out in this particular...enthusiasm of his. Easier to think that he'd just automatically known, from the very beginning.

'It doesn't break the skin really,' Bull said. A few seconds later the tails were draped lightly over Cullen's back. Gently. Bull had leaned in towards him. 'Not unless I put my back into it. Doesn't even bruise that well.'

Then why in the name of the Maker are you using it?

'Cullen, do you want to take the blindfold off?'

Cullen shook his head. Frowned. Shook his head again. Bull had nicknames for everyone. Yet he used Cullen's name so specifically. It was like hearing a bell being rung. He couldn't help but focus when he heard it.

A broad thumb was rubbing up and down the back of his neck. It was steadying. Cullen's eyes had closed again, he wanted to sag down and press his forehead to the back of the chair. Truthfully, all he really wanted to do – even more than stand and face that wall with the right flogger – was please Bull. It was a wash of bile-flavoured hatred inside of him, and it was only directed at himself. But he still wanted it. Bull said he thought Cullen could do it, maybe all Cullen had to do was be patient; as asked.

But what if he couldn't?

Too many bad weeks. That was the problem. Too many bad weeks in a row. He swallowed and pushed back into Bull's touch without really examining the urge too closely. Bull's sound of approval made Cullen aware that his legs were still spread, made his face feel warm.