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Chapter Text

'Those Royans are a feral bunch, it's the only thing I like about them,' Bull said, as he rummaged around in one of the black, velvet sacks that he'd brought back with him.

Cullen watched those large fingers of his, the competent way he unloaded what he needed every time and felt warm to have Bull back again after - this time - four months away. It was one of their longest separations. Bull had different tasks, quests and responsibilities chained together, ending in Val Royeaux in Orlais, a place Cullen was happy to never visit again. He hated having to play a role that didn't fit him and he found that – like any good Fereldan – he suited the countryside. A small house and Staunch the mabari was plenty for him. Templar's Rest kept him busy enough on top of that. 

His life before was impossible to imagine returning to. 

'It's not often people describe the citizens of Val Royeaux as feral,' Cullen said drily. 

Bull looked up, his eye gleaming, a smile at the corners of his mouth. ‘Most of them don’t know what to do with all their cute little toys, but at least they think it’s salacious and sexy to custom make them when I put in an order.’

Bull’s horns looked worse for the wear, and Cullen itched to treat them, rub hand-tingling ointment into them, buff them until they shone. But right now he was recovering from a migraine that had lasted several days. The episodes didn't seem to be getting much worse, but they weren't getting much better either. Oftentimes, Hensley was the one who found him, cleaning him up and dragging him to bed, sitting there when Cullen woke, maintaining a silent vigil as seriously as he had back when he'd been in Skyhold, standing and watching the world beyond the turreted walls while lyrium withdrawals ate the nerve endings in his hands. 

As it was, Cullen felt weak, though he'd been up and about for two days now. Hensley had left him with plentiful spring water, and some of the herbal treatments they used for the other Templars that came with their afflictions. Cullen had tasted an edge of too much elfroot and hedged over taking more. Even after all this time, he could only stand it when it wasn't the main ingredient, which was a shame, for it was the main ingredient in all healing salves for humans. 

'Look at you, all washed out,' Bull said, shaking his head. 'Only thing that should be doing that to you is me, little lion.' 

Cullen swallowed, managed to stop himself from looking away. Even after all this time, Bull's avid hunger leaked out of him and swamped the house. And Cullen wanted him, in his own way. He wanted deliberate, exacting pain to replace the chaos of the episodes that assailed him. He wanted the brightness of Bull's intent etched upon him until he couldn't stand it. But he was tired, patient, and knew it would all happen in good time. 

'Look at what I found,' Bull said, pulling out a gold-flecked collar, a gold-flecked leash, both beautifully made. He placed them on the table in front of Cullen, who took the supple collar curiously. 

'I don't think they're used to fitting the thick necks of mabari,' Cullen said speculatively. 

Bull stepped over, the height difference all the more startling when Cullen was seated. He unbuckled the collar and looked it over, flicking off a tiny speck of dust. Then, without much warning, he reached out and looped it around Cullen's neck, bending over him until the tips of his horns just scraped the wall. Cullen stilled, his whole body on alert, as Bull breathed down the side of his face, his neck. A low rumble of satisfaction in his chest. 

'I don't know, little lion. Seems like it'd be a pretty good fit.' 

'You can't be serious,' Cullen said, his throat moving against the unbuckled golden collar, held in place by Bull's hands. 'You're- You know how I feel about this.'

'You have a word,' Bull said idly, like he was unconcerned. He pressed his thick thumb to Cullen's throat, above the collar, and pushed in until Cullen coughed automatically. 'You think I could still get my cock all the way in here, while this was buckled? Everything's worth trying once!' 

He stepped back, took the collar with him. It slid off Cullen's neck with an electric sensation, and the blasted thing looked tiny in Bull's hand. Cullen looked over at the leash, his cheeks flaming, then looked up at Bull, who grinned. 

'They got all these glorious places in Orlais, you know, they're known for it, known for not knowing what to do with it all,' Bull said, laughing to himself as he picked up the leash and turned it this way and that. 'Got so many goodies to decorate you with. Not that you need more than my come on your face to look spectacular.'

Cullen was glaring, frustrated, annoyed, and turned on after four months with nothing more than his hand and memories of Bull fucking him open, making him wail. But this was something he'd been on the fence over for a long time, and he wasn't sure how he felt about Bull purchasing items for it. 

'You going to make an honest lion tamer out of me?' Bull said, grinning. 'Listen, we already have a bull, and a dog, all we need now is the lion.' 

Cullen stayed stonily silent, Bull's grin widened. 

'Good on you, Cullen, not saying the watchword yet. Maybe you're not thinking too hard about what it will feel like when I make you crawl at my feet?' 

Cullen had crawled at Bull's feet before, but not attached to a collar and leash. 

'I'm not even done,' Bull said, opening the black velvet bag. 'Before I apologise for giving offense, let me really commit first.'

'You're exasperating.'

Bull pulled out a black leather paddle, which he slapped down against his bare palm hard enough that Cullen flinched, thinking about that landing on his own skin. Bull placed that down beside the collar and petted it lightly. After that, a strange looking gag which looked more like a muzzle and was made of metal. Cullen eyed it uneasily. And then ears. Lion ears. Not the red that he expected from the lions found in the Frostbacks, but a rich gold. Cullen wanted to touch them, see what they felt like against the semi-numbed tips of his fingers, but knowing they were intended to go on his head was more than enough. 

He stood, intending to leave, and was stopped far too easily by a hand on his upper arm. 

'It's just a game,' Bull said, his voice low. 'A game we can try.'

'A game.' 

'Yeah,' Bull said, fingers tightening around his arm in promise, not yet enough to hurt. Cullen was tired, and he wanted Bull, and he wanted so much of what Bull enjoyed in the bedroom, but this particular thing wasn't just hard, it seemed impossible. 'A game. Go on then, tell me what it is. You think I'll tell everyone one day that you crawled for me, pretending to be an animal? You think that's so much worse than anything else I've done to you? That you've wanted?'

Cullen did sometimes fear those things, the embarrassment, the ruin that Bull could inflict upon him in a handful of words in a distant land. Something that might seem harmless in a tavern never before visited, but rumours came back to lance him eventually. After Searidge, Cullen knew better than most how something done in private could come back to harm him. 

Bull worked so hard to be safe, and he was trustworthy and patient. Even now, he was being patient. 

'Would it help if I told you that I wanted it? Your fear?' Bull said, leaning closer. 

'Maker,' Cullen breathed. 'Maybe it would.'

'Would it help if I told you that I want to see you blush prettily like a virginal maiden over this, your knees on the floor, wearing those ears, making little noises for me, pretending like you haven't been rammed to unconsciousness because I didn't want to let you rest that one night, and you didn't want to say the watchword?' 

Maker. 

'You- You can't just seduce me into- You can't.' 

'Yeah,' Bull rumbled, 'I think it might help if I told you that along with all the humiliation, I'm going to hurt you so good. Never fucked a lion before, not really my thing, though I could tell you some stories... But you pretending to be my little lion? Getting to tame the fierce, stubborn Lion of Ferelden? Always wanted a pet.' 

'There's- We have a... What about Staunch?'

'Look at you, all flustered and pretty for me.'

Bull's hand tightened on Cullen's upper arm, he reached into Cullen's pants rudely, all too easily, and got a hand around his soft cock, squeezing hard enough that Cullen crunched forwards in pain, scalded by it. His knees weakened, his exhale punched out of him. 

Bull dragged him close enough that Cullen sagged against his torso, Bull quickly got an arm around his body and kept him pressed tight. 

'Four months is too fucking long,' Bull growled. 

Cullen gasped, then reached down and grasped Bull's thick wrist, then yelped when Bull's grip tightened. 

'Since no one else is using it, this belongs to me, doesn't it?' Bull said, dragging a rough thumb along Cullen's cock, awakening mostly pain. It was heavy and blunt, knuckling into him, and he whined faintly. Ownership was something Cullen resisted and craved. When Bull was gone for long enough, Cullen got used to living without him, enjoyed it, and when he came back, he wanted to know that Bull wanted him. But Bull's wanting was demanding, it demanded more strength from him than anything other than the episodes he experienced. It made him feel purified, somehow.

'You poor little thing,' Bull said, his grip loosening, rubbing his palm roughly over Cullen's flesh. His cock was slowly hardening, the pain having shocked Cullen's body into responding. 'You've got too many places I can get into, but all this lion shit? Want to get into your mind, little lion. You can learn to love a leash.'

'You're... This is why- Maker.' 

'Want to fuck you now, but I'm going to be courteous and wait. Your hole is so unused to me, isn't it? You're still too shy about using toys while I'm gone.'

Bull's hand sliding out of his pants, and Cullen feeling disappointed until Bull grabbed a handful of his crotch all at once, his cock, his balls, fabric, blunt fingertips scraping behind his testicles and along his inner thighs. The grip wasn't brutal yet, but Cullen had gone cautiously still. It wasn't often that their returns went this way this quickly, and Cullen worried that something had gone wrong while Bull was out there in the world, wondered if everything was all right, then abandoned the concern for his partner so he could be concerned for himself instead. The hand between his legs was tightening like a clamp, and Cullen grasped the leather strap that ran across Bull's chest and hung on, then tried tugging at it to convey the pain he was feeling. 

'Hensley says you've been pushing too hard,' Bull said. 

'Cheating. This is cheating.' 

'Yeah, it's easier for me to lecture you while you're like this. It's harder for you to feel like I'm condescending to you when I'm putting you through your paces, and you look good enough to wreck, Kadan.' 

Cullen moaned weakly. He mouthed the word back but couldn't get any voice behind it. The pain was radiating up and out, making it hard to inhale. He felt like he wanted to piss and cry at the same time, and he clung to the leather strap and panted with how quickly Bull had escalated. 

'Missed you,' Bull breathed. Teeth scraped across the top of Cullen's head, over his hair. 

'You... You too.' 

'Yeah?' Bull said. 'Shit you smell good. Tell you what, if you'd been on the road with me, I would've fucked you until Krem strung me up and made little winged nugs out of my nutsack.' 

Cullen would have laughed, but the pain twisted up sharp and vicious and he went onto his tiptoes and then reached with a closed fist and punched Bull in the shoulder once, twice, mind whiting out as he forgot what he was supposed to do, supposed to say. 

'Katoh,' he managed, the word strangling out of him. 

Bull letting go was worse, and Cullen's back was still arching as arms caught him, came around him. He bit viciously into Bull's chest, not breaking the tougher skin, drool painting it messily as he tasted sweat and salt. He panted, his inhales shrill. 

'Got you,' Bull murmured. 'I've got you.' 

Cullen wasn't even hard anymore. But he ached inside, and he wanted release, more of it and none of it, and clung onto Bull with hard fingers and was glad Staunch was out at Templar's Rest for the day, keeping all the Templars company. 

'Hensley said it was a bad episode.'

Cullen nodded, still breathless, feeling weak and stripped bare and needy and stupid with it. 'Yes. Yes, it was.'

'He found you unconscious.'

Cullen nodded. 

'Yeah. I don't like it. Hensley himself has as good as said you need to stop forcing yourself over there every other day to help out with the chores.'

'Not now. Not now,' Cullen said, pressing closer, caught with aftershocks of pain and knowing he was bruised all through that tender skin and that it would hurt later even if Bull touched him with tenderness. 

'All right then, little lion,' Bull said, sighing. 'I know you need it. The purpose of it all. Just glad to see you. Want you smelling like my come and my sweat and nothing else for the next few weeks.'

'Yes, that... I'm amenable.'

Bull laughed against him, and Cullen didn't fight when Bull half-carried him back to their large, oversized bed. Despite the twinge in his bladder, Cullen dozed heavily, feeling like he'd run a marathon and satisfied for it. 

*

When he woke, he went into the bathroom to relieve himself, groaning softly at the bruising he felt in his balls, his soft cock, his bladder. He could hear Bull moving around in the kitchen, restocking it with food he'd brought with him. Cullen could smell a stew cooking and as he pulled his pants back up, he walked out and considered Bull, and then saw the items on the kitchen table. The lion ears, the collar and leash, the gag, the paddle. Bull called it a game, but Cullen felt an uneasy swoop within him. He'd never gotten over his inability to handle mitts, and this felt dangerously close to that limit. 

'You really think... You really think I'll like it? This game?' 

'Nah,' Bull said, side-eyeing him seriously. 'I think you'll fucking hate it at first. I think you're going to be uptight, stubborn, resentful, and a little turned on, and mad about that too. Think you might try and bite me, fight me, all the fun stuff. Please bite me. Just want you to see what I'll do if you start in on me.' 

Cullen sighed. Bull's smile was warm. 

'It's not a game we have to play any time soon. You can think on it.'

'It's something you want? Something that would make you happy if I tried it?' 

'You make me happy.' Bull paused over the stew, stirred it a few more times, and then said - without looking up: 'Kadan, you make me happy.' 

'I might hate it,' Cullen said. 'Not in the "I'll come around later" way. Genuinely. This is...different to some of the other things you've wanted.'

'I know,' Bull said. 'Wouldn't have waited this long if I thought it was easy. If it was easier, we would've done this back in Skyhold. Would've had them thinking a lion had escaped from the Frostbacks into the grounds.'

Cullen's half-smile was wry, a little rueful. He was doomed, really. Doomed because the paddle had sounded so thuddy and painful when Bull had thwacked it against his hand. Doomed because seeing the heated satisfaction and hunger on Bull's face when he stared at Cullen was something he craved, those strong, unblinking gazes carved into secret spaces in his own body. Doomed because he liked to prove himself, because he liked to withstand something, endure it, come out the other side. 

But this thing scared him. He didn't know why. Did he have memories from Kinloch? Of course they'd joked about him being no better than an animal, but they'd joked about many things. 

Bull's head was tilted as he considered him. Staunch sat by Bull's feet with endless patience, waiting for a piece of stew to drop to the floor. His tail occasionally thumped. He was also happy Bull was home. 

'Why this thing?' Cullen said finally. 'Have you done it much?'

'A bit. I like it. Been called an animal all my life, maybe it feels good to turn other people into them as well,' Bull said, and he laughed like it was a joke, but Cullen heard the truth in it. 'Also, it's a really great conduit. Shit, nothing breaks through all that structure like being forced to growl and whine and crawl like an animal. You got all that scaffolding around you, I just want to tear it down. Just a bit.'

'As a game.'

'Hey, some games are serious,' Bull said, stirring the stew and then passing the crust of some bread down to Staunch, who snapped it up happily, tail wagging hard enough to lightly slap Bull's calf. 'Besides, I'm pretty good at putting things back together again. You need the scaffolding once we're done, and I'll build it myself, from scratch if I have to.' 

'Ah, yes, the Pink Iron Bull, famous carpenter of the Qunari.'

Bull's grin was secret and pleased. 

'Will it be a... A play? Are we in roles? How does it work?'

'Nah, that's not how this goes,' Bull said, laughing. 'You tell me you want to try playing the game, and I'll tell you the rules, little lion. I'm not gonna feel bad if you say it's a game you don't want to play, but once you say you'll do it, I'm not gonna make it easy for you. I get that it's hard. I want that. I think you're up for it.' 

A challenge. Bull was playing every card to get Cullen on board, and Cullen pressed his lips together. 

'Not the collar,' he said. 

'Nope,' Bull said, stretching hugely within the house and then resting one hand on the wooden spoon and his other languidly down by his crotch. Bull enjoyed talking about this kind of thing more than anyone had a right to. 'Not this time. We have our negotiation. You can wait, you can think about it, you can tell me no, but if you step up, you step up into a space I make for you, not one you make for yourself. You're not the lion tamer, you don't get to choose the tools. Let me show you how good I am at this.'

Cullen was surprised at the change of tack and closed his eyes. Surrender wasn't something that came naturally to him. Yielding was something he had to be made to do. 

'Yes, well,' Cullen said, staring at the collar and leash. 'I'll try it.' 

Bull's smile was at first pleased and proud, and in a slow shift, became hungry and menacing. He turned back to the stew, cleared his throat a few seconds later, and Cullen pressed a hand to his chest. He felt enlivened amongst the soreness and the exhaustion, and after a few minutes Bull started talking about his adventures, and Cullen listened and found he didn't much miss the travelling life at all. 

Chapter Text

Bull's Chargers hadn't come all the way to Moorvale this time, Kremisius had taken everyone else on an adventure to Winterwatch Tower, a journey that was a combination of rest, play, and helping to rebuild the community that had gravitated towards the space. It left Bull and Cullen to their own devices, and it meant Cullen felt increasingly agitated and curious every day that passed where Bull didn't start this 'game' he talked about playing. 

They wandered across the moors together, and the black-beaked hawks hovered above despite the chill, swift winds, and Staunch had learned to watch them and then bound towards whatever voles or mice or rats or nugs might be in the undergrowth, irritating the hawks and scaring the rodents.

It always took Bull a day or two to really settle into a place. Cullen used to think he relaxed immediately, because it seemed like he did, but in truth Bull didn't truly relax into a space until he'd had a couple of days to make observations. When Cullen was inside doing chores, or visiting Templar's Rest, Bull was often patrolling imagined perimeters, going to the nearby village to ask for gossip in a way that seemed friendly, and not like he was meticulously gathering intelligence. 

After all this time, Bull's training stayed firm within him, and a combination of information gathering and learning the lay of the land had his shoulders relaxed, more of a smile on his face as they navigated the unsteady ground of the moors together. 

On days like today, he wished Bull could stay forever. And he knew one day Bull likely would. He'd age, he'd retire, they'd become old men together. For now, Cullen savoured all the times Bull came home, and savoured the times to himself just as much. He sometimes felt an invisible pressure to have a more conventional relationship, to do things the 'right' way, but he was already with a man, a Qunari, and he was already someone who vastly preferred pain to sex - though he craved both at the same time when delivered at Bull's hands - and was less tender-hearted than Bull, who returned home not only with tools to debauch Cullen, but with trinkets and gifts. Bull was someone who saw things that reminded him of the people he cared for, and he bought those items often. 

Cullen knew he still struggled as a Tal Vashoth, but he thought it suited him better. Bull would say he wasn't even a Qunari anymore, but Cullen had mixed thoughts about all of it. He found it hard to think of the Qun without thinking of lyrium, indoctrination, and the Templars.

But now, they stood before early spring winds that carried the chill of winter and the promise of warmth in their cold gusts. The grasses bent like ocean waves coloured a dull, greeny-ochre. Staunch ran everywhere, flushing creatures out of their hiding places, disturbing the peace, and being the best mabari anyone could ever hope for. Bull sometimes looked down at Cullen like a promise, and he never thought he'd like feeling kept, but he did. 

The black-beaked hawks shrilled overhead, and Cullen breathed deeply and flexed his fingers. He had more sensation in them today. The worst of the episode really was subsiding. Every episode Cullen feared he wouldn't recover, but his condition had stopped degenerating, even as he felt guilty over it sometimes, knowing how many Templars had passed away from lyrium withdrawals in Templar's Rest. 

*

The next morning, Cullen woke to a weight moving over him. He startled, opened his mouth, and Bull's hand came down over his lips. 

'Today,' he said. He stared down at Cullen, dwarfing him, face serious and not yet playful. Cullen's bladder was full, his joints were a little stiff - it was raining outside - and he needed to feed Staunch, but none of that seemed to matter in the moment. 'We're going to start today.'

Cullen swallowed, then nodded, because Bull seemed to be waiting for some kind of response. 

'You're going to take Staunch to Templar's Rest and tell Hensley to leave us be for a few days, unless it's an emergency.' Bull smiled. 'Don't think he'd react all that well to what I want to do to you. Think he'd go find the Inquisitor himself if he saw.' 

Cullen stared at him, then reached up to remove Bull's hand. It didn't budge. 

'When you get back, I'll explain some of the rules to you,' Bull said. 

Then, in his own time, he slowly removed his hand. Cullen's nostrils flared, and Bull reached beneath Cullen's sleep shirt and casually palmed over his skin, possessive and idle at the same time. A finger brushed over Cullen's nipple, and he didn't feel anything especially acute. A slight tingle, nothing more. Bull watched him, knowing full well this wouldn't be enough to get him in the mood. Bull did things like this as a matter of ownership, and not because it met Cullen's strange blend of needs. 

'Cat got your tongue?' Bull said, and then he laughed. 'I've been collecting so many cat puns, just for you.' 

'You're insufferable.'

'I know,' Bull said. He moved off Cullen's body, then pushed him roughly to his side and slapped his hip several times. Cullen kicked out and then squirmed off the bed, glaring. His hip smarted, but he knew Bull wasn't smacking at full strength. 'Look at you, so catty.' 

'Maker, lend me patience,' Cullen muttered to himself, rubbing at his eyes, resisting the urge to soothe the sting at his hip. 

'Nah,' Bull said, leaning back in the bed and reaching between his legs, wrapping a hand around his soft length with a look of appreciation on his face. 'It won't be about your Maker today, Cullen. But if you're the kind of guy who needs to think about his god while he learns how to be a lion, help yourself. That'll get you places, I'm sure.'

Cullen made a huffing sound as he left the room, and was sure Bull was fully aware of how his heartrate had quickened in response to all of it.

*

Hensley knew what it meant, when Cullen said he wanted to not be disturbed for a few days after Bull returned home. It never got easier. Hensley never put him on the spot about it, he was never strange about it, but Cullen still felt like he was committing a terrible sin to ask for space so Bull could destroy him. The fact that he was here on Bull's order - even though Cullen would have asked for the space anyway - chafed. 

Staunch was happy to stay among the Templars, they were happy to have him. He got spoiled, and all that mabari muscle had a layer of fat in the form of treats and wiggling his way into the hearts of the soldiers who had stepped away from the lyrium, the indoctrination, but still felt as though they were Templars in their hearts. 

When he returned home, he expected to see the lion ears, the collar and leash, all of it on the wooden table. It wasn't. The house had been cleaned and swept, the bed had folded fresh sheets and blankets nearby, which meant Bull expected to be changing them at some point. Bull sat at the table drinking a cup of tea from a delicate pink teacup, looking like he'd already won the battle. 

'First rule,' Bull said, as Cullen closed the door. 'You have the word, but I'm not going to listen to any of your other protests. Guess you could say I will listen and take them under advisement. Might even want you to protest.' 

'That's not really much of a rule,' Cullen said, leaning back against the wall, making a point of not sitting at the table with him. 'Isn't that how we do things anyway?'

'Just being clear,' Bull said, sipping at the tea and then placing it down on its saucer. It didn't even clink. That Ben-Hassrath training would affect the way he moved for the rest of his life, and Cullen envied his easy grace. 

'Second rule,' Bull said. 'When all of this starts, you'll be punished for talking.' 

Cullen tensed. 

'I mean, I'll want you to talk,' Bull said, a lewd look in his eyes. 'You're gonna talk. What's the point in even getting a wild lion if they're not giving you a reason to break them in? If I wanted a little kitten, would've gotten one of those.'

'I see,' Cullen said. 'What will the punishments look like?'

'Who knows,' Bull said airily. 'Be a shame if you found out, more for you than me.' 

Cullen rolled his eyes, and Bull laughed. 

'Third rule,' Bull said. 'Every time you make an actual effort to act like a lion, you'll get a reward.'

Cullen's ears were hot. It was tempting to say Katoh right now and call it all off. This was absurd. He didn't even like roleplay. 

'The scenario is easy. Got myself a lion I need to train, he's been spoiled by a previous owner into thinking he's a person, and then he killed him. Ripped his throat straight out with his teeth. So it's imperative, I reckon, that I get this lion under control. Wouldn't want something terrible to happen to me too. Gotta remind him that he's a lion, and then I gotta make him tame. Maybe I'm trying to prove myself to some clandestine society of lion tamers.'

'You do realise how foolish you sound?' Cullen said. 

Bull's smile was slow and sinister, Cullen felt dread unfurl through him. 

'Good news is,' Bull said, 'I'm the kind of lion tamer that fucks lions.'

'This...' Cullen suddenly laughed. 'Bull, this is ridiculous.'

'Yeah,' Bull said. 'It's just in this scenario, maybe I've learned that breaking an animal in with a cock is pretty helpful.' 

'Not even Cassandra would read that in a book.' 

Bull's laugh was real and belly-deep. 'You've never seen the books about what people wish dragons would do to them, have you? Qunari fucking elves or humans is really not the most depraved thing people have ever thought up.' 

'That's- But that's impossible.'

'You just gotta dream big enough,' Bull said. 'You better believe I've had a few daydreams about you as a lion on the road, tame by comparison, don’t you think? Now, here’s a little something just for you...' 

Bull reached into his pocket and brought out a dark brown glass bottle stoppered with cork and wax. 

'Stiches made this special,' he said. 'Almost no elfroot at all, and you can't even smell it. Even I can't. This is pretty intense stuff. We'll be using the other tincture he's made for general wear and tear. But I'm prepared. Think you'll be earning a lot of punishments. And a caveat on that second rule, of course you can speak to say Katoh without getting punished. I figured that was a given, but just in case your nug-warren of a mind is unsure.' 

'So in this scenario you just punish me into being an obedient lion,' Cullen said. 'Is that the gist of it?'

'You're so clever,' Bull drawled. 'You can skip all the hard stuff and go straight into being a lion I get to fuck, if you want. I'll still make it hurt plenty.'

'You know, we have a whole chest full of implements. You could hit me whenever you wished. Without a game, without roleplaying some ridiculous scenario.' 

'Rules come into effect right now,' Bull said, winking in that absurd way of his. Cullen rolled his eyes again. 

'Of course they do, because-'

Bull was up and out of the chair so fast it tipped over, and before it clattered to the floor, Bull had his hands around Cullen's hip and jaw, dragging him forwards. Cullen struggled automatically, not for the appearance of a roleplay, but because he was shocked by how quickly everything had commenced, because he was annoyed at the whole concept, because he was annoyed Bull got to decide when everything started. 

'Shhh, shhh. I know,' Bull said in a false-comforting tone that was goading. 'It's gonna be hard for you to remember your place. But you'll remember soon enough.' 

Strong hands pushing him down onto his knees. Cullen bit down into Bull's hand and got free, dragging himself upright on the kitchen table. He yelped when he was shoved into it, a hand pressing down between his shoulder blades. Cullen's fingers dug into wood, he gasped in shock, small aches in his body already from their short, swift struggle. 

'Thought you'd give me a chance,' Bull laughed. 'They were right, you really get going fast, don't you? Don't worry, love that. The squirming’s gonna feel so good once I get you on my cock.' 

Cullen kicked back, contacted Bull's shin, swung sideways, managed two steps and then a kick at the back of his knees, and he went down heavily onto his front with a surprised cry. A broad foot pinned him chest down, spanning more than half of his back, and Bull's weight was considerable when he leaned down into it. Cullen dragged in a breath, scrabbled at the floorboards, tried to wiggle free. 

'Poor thing,' Bull crooned. 

Let me go, Cullen thought. He had to bite back the words, because the roleplay scenario meant saying any such thing played directly into Bull's game. He likely had a retort for it already. Cullen reached back and grasped Bull's little toe, then bent it, and Bull grunted and grabbed Cullen's wrist and wrenched his arm behind his back. It meant Cullen had to lean forward, it meant there was more weight on Cullen's back, compressing his ribs and lungs. He gasped and realised air was a real problem. 

'Bull...' he managed. 

'Nah, I'm your master, little lion. You don't address me. Can't have you thinking we're equal.' 

Cullen bit the inside of his cheek as his teeth ground down. He slapped at the floor several times.

'If you can't breathe, you can't talk,' Bull said, something dark entering his voice. 'Go on, tire yourself out. Maybe this'll be real fast.'

Cullen made a growling noise of frustration, then cut himself off, humiliated. 

'There you are,' Bull said, sounding cheerful. 'Look how quickly we found you!' 

Cullen's shoulder ached, he fell silent, sucking in short breath after short breath. He was panicking, frustrated, wanting revenge already. He hated being mocked, hated feeling degraded, and here he was pinned down on the floor and he knew Bull was enjoying it and he wanted Bull to enjoy himself, but he hated this. 

'Growl again,' Bull ordered. 

Cullen said nothing, did nothing, stayed still and focused on breathing. 

'Aw, we were so close. Could've spoiled you proper if we got to it that quickly. You feeling a bit light-headed there? Come on little kitty-cat, let's get these things off you. There's no point having clothes on a lion. What a joke. No wonder you killed your last owner. Must've been so confused.' 

The weight on his back shifted, and Cullen knew it was his opportunity to get up and fight back, but the appeal of a full breath was too strong. It wasn't as though he had to cooperate with taking off his clothes, he'd just take a moment to get his thoughts together and then-

-Bull's hands ripped straight through his shirt, tearing it in a single motion. Cullen scrabbled forwards and slapped at Bull's hands when they came for him again. 

'I don't have hundreds of shirts for you to rip apart,' Cullen said breathlessly. 

It was aggravating, how happy Bull looked about all of it. 'Lions shouldn't have shirts at all. And look at you, talking. You really gonna make me work this hard for it? Look, I don't want to hurt you.'

Cullen laughed in spite of himself, and Bull laughed a moment later, and the camaraderie lasted for a few seconds and then Bull lunged, and Cullen fought. He was out of practice, he was still filling his lungs, it seemed far too soon that Bull had him tossed onto the bed and rope around his wrists, tying them behind his back. Cullen had no idea where the rope came from, but he'd long given up figuring out how and where Bull hid all the things he wanted to use at times like this. He could be as strategic about things like this as Cullen could be around a War Table. 

Bull ripped through Cullen's pants in an impressive show of strength because they were made of sturdier material than his shirt. 

'I hope you have new clothes in those packs of yours,' Cullen muttered. 

He pulled on the rope around his wrists idly, then frowned when he heard Bull spitting on something. A moment later his eyes flew open as he felt something blunt and thick pushing at his entrance. He wasn't prepared for any kind of penetration, he'd been out of practice for three months, and he knew enough to know Bull's spit wouldn't go far. Cullen felt like the breath had been shoved out of him all over again, and a hard hand pushed his head down onto the bed, twisting up in his hair. 

'Vashedan, you're tight. Let's get this little hole opened up. Could've made this easier for you, but you insist on being anything other than what you are. So I’ll keep forcing you back into your body until you remember.' 

Cullen jerked as Bull shoved at the thing between his legs, and he realised as the tapered end slipped into his hole – snagging slightly on delicate skin – that it was likely a plug. Not a large one, but still a plug moistened with nothing more than saliva. 

'Bull.' 

'Damn, you're a slow learner,' Bull said, laughing, pushing harder. Cullen's hole clenched, but Bull kept up steady, relentless pressure and the plug forced a stretch that felt sharp and unforgiving. It finally seated into place, pressure just shy of touching his prostate, and Cullen sucked in a breath and tried not to go limp against the mattress. It was much smaller than Bull's cock, maybe about the same width as one of his fingers. But it wasn’t small. 'I didn't even have to give you the benefit of my spit, that’s some grace, y’know, you should be grateful.' 

'As though you’ve ever been the kind of person to tear someone up,' Cullen muttered to himself, thinking how often Bull made sure Cullen took healing agents after they did anything serious together. 

He pressed his lips together when Bull grabbed the base of the plug and vibrated it into him a few times, shoving it rapidly, and then his breath caught when Bull yanked it out. The sensation was a rude shock. A band snapping. The sting was sharp, and Cullen knew he hadn’t torn, but he also knew Bull wasn’t happy with the constant disobedience.

'Keep talking, little lion,' Bull said, doing something above him, arms and hands moving quickly. 'Please keep talking.' 

When the plug pushed back into him about a minute later, to Cullen's shock it felt lubricated. It slid in almost easily now, and Cullen frowned. He hadn't expected Bull to offer any kind of concession, he was suspicious as to what it meant. Bull twisted the plug a few times, then laughed quietly to himself. That sound rarely meant anything good. 

'Give it a second,' he said. 

Cullen frowned, then forgot about struggling when he felt an unusual warmth at his entrance, spreading deeper. 

'Been getting my hands on all sorts of things over the past few months,' Bull said, tapping the tip of the plug a few times and making Cullen clench down on it automatically. 'The kind of humans that wanted a lion like you had their weak little liniments, but we Qunari know more about the real spices. Got Stitches to make me something a little like that horn balm, but this is...better, I think. You still not feeling it yet?' 

Unusual warmth turned into heat, and that became a pinching, prickling sensation that started in an unpleasant place and then quickly became sharper, clutching up through his gut, aching down into his balls, like long slow needles pressing into his nerves. Cullen tried to straighten, alarmed, and Bull pushed him back down and wiggled the tip of the plug inside of him. The unpleasant prickling blossomed into something like a chemical burn, and he cried out sharply, trying to jerk away from the sensation, only succeeding in clenching down on the plug. Automatically his arms yanked at the rope as he tried to reach down and pull it out of himself. The burning was spreading, electrifying nerves he didn't even know he had in places that were sensitive and private. 

He choked on the sensation, and Bull sighed in satisfaction somewhere nearby. 

'Get you nice and red and swollen for my cock,' Bull said. 'And the best part is, it's gonna feel like nothing more than a tickle for me. You lions, you think you're so tough, and sure, maybe you were strong around the humans, but I've got what you really need, don’t you worry.' 

A slap to Cullen's ass, light and stinging, and Cullen hardly cared. He made a panicked sound, another, and then he twisted at his wrists in desperate frustration. 

'It's hurting me,' he gasped. 

'Yeah,' Bull said. 

'No, Bull, I mean it's actually-' 

'Yeah,' Bull said, reaching down and squeezing Cullen's ass cheeks together, forcing the plug deeper, making Cullen cry out hoarsely. 'Didn't I tell you that I got some stronger healing stuff from Stitches? You'll be fine, eventually. But you'll feel better if you stop talking.' 

'I don't feel better now,' Cullen said sharply. 'T-take it out. Take it out. This isn't- We didn't agree-'

'Maybe it'll help if I give you something familiar alongside the unfamiliar,' Bull said. 

Cullen felt a growing fear at the burning inside of him, because it seemed to get worse and worse, and everything felt hot and red inside, and he didn't want familiar suffering on top of this. He wanted the plug out of him, and he wanted that healing tincture, and he wanted-

A hand carefully circling around his balls, doing everything gently, none of it making up for the crushing grip that followed, the pain of his balls being ground together in a palm, pain bursting up like a sharp mean punch between his legs. Cullen let loose a guttural scream, shocked to be in this much pain so quickly, no slow escalation, and Bull clinically mentioning something about how pain was a great teacher above him. 

'That's it,' Bull breathed, his voice saturated with a thick, hungry lust. 'Roar for me, little lion.'