There's nothing wrong with a little online flirting. Cullen hardly ever expects it to go anywhere even if he really does like the man he's been chatting with for over a month.

Written for the Dragon Age: Inquisition kink meme. A desire demon tries to tempt Dorian disguised as Cullen, and awkward conversations are had.

Playing designated driver is not Dorian's forte. Luckily, he's got some sober company in the form of the second most attractive friend in the group--after himself, of course. Dorian's not sure why Cullen comes to these parties. He doesn't drink, doesn't socialize, he even goes to work with most of these people! There has to be a reason though, right?

"Maker save me from you Southern chantry boys." Dorian shakes his head, rolling his eyes and not seeming like he minds being oggled all that much. "You believe in the Maker?" Cullen asks softly, stunned at the idea. He knew there was still a chantry further north, but the idea of them worshipping the same Maker Cullen does is difficult to grasp. "Don't you?"

"It's bad enough that everybody here in the bloody south thinks that I'll kidnap them and use them for blood magic, it seems a bit over the top for them to think I'm cruel to tiny fluffy animals as well."

"You make me feel like I'm not good enough."

Dorian had scarcely read through the first chapter when a shuffle of footsteps stopped outside his nook. He glanced up, a little warily, then set the book down on his lap in surprise: it was General Cullen, of all people, still in his military uniform, the khaki pressed to razor edges, the collar blood red against his throat, the gold star of his rank bright and high over his sleeves. “General,” Dorian greeted Cullen, when Cullen seemed to hesitate. Hells, but the man was ridiculously handsome, more so than Dorian had expected: it wasn’t just the uniform, at that - there was something deliciously attractive about a gorgeous man who was utterly unaware that he was gorgeous. “Something the matter?”

“Hey. Hey. I have an awesome idea,” Sera said suddenly, having rolled slowly onto her back until her head and part of her shoulders were hanging off the edge of the couch. “We could… we could totally set Dorian up. With one of our, our other friends. He’ll cry less, we’ll drink less, everything will be great.” “… Sounds doable,” Evelyn burped. “But who?” “Urm.” Sera frowned. “What about Thom?” “Naaah. He’s too much of a sad puppy. He’ll make it worse.” “Bull?” “Think he’s banging some waitresses right now. At least two. At the same time without either of them knowing. It’s like some serious spy shit.”

“You’ve done your best,” Cullen interrupted absently, and Dorian’s eyebrows arched in surprise. Cullen stared back evenly, hiding his own instinctive amusement. Mother Giselle glanced at them both, then shuffled away, back to the wounded, leaving them alone at the fire. Finally, however, to Cullen’s surprise, Dorian’s wry, faint smile curled into something warmer. “I’m never going to get used to that.” “To what?” “Being interrupted,” Dorian said dryly. “Here in the South.” “Because you’re a mage, and I’m an omega?” Cullen asked, a little testily.

“Dorian,” the other man says reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing, but you’ve been doing it wrong."

Dorian paces in front of the door fitfully. He clutches the sealed letter in his hand feeling ridiculous. What is he doing? He doesn’t even know if Cullen is interested. It’d just been a throw away line that started the conversation. Something about Leliana and Josephine snickering about marriage proposals at the war table.

In which Dorian messes up a spell, Kinloch Hold was home to some kinky bastards, and Cullen is a little bit of a bad man (but they both love it).