Dorian rolls onto his side to face him, squinting in the mid-morning light. "You wanted to talk, last night. So talk." "Mm, not like this." Bull cracks his neck, stretches his free arm above his head. Dorian doesn't even pretend he's not watching the muscles shift in Bull's shoulder. "You don't talk about sex in bed."

It takes a long, long time for Dorian to realize that he is still waiting for the Bull to finish what he started.

A letter from Dorian's father sends him into a rage that only the Iron Bull can calm.

There is nothing The Bull loves more than doing this to Dorian. Laying him out, tying him down so he can’t move, and just pleasuring him until he’s out of his mind with it.

Summary: read the tags. that’s it, that’s the story. Or: Dorian gets a tattoo of The Iron Bull's name on his arse. And is then tagged in a completely different way.

Dorian enjoys being fingered while Bull watches television and Bull certainly has no complaints.