Chapter Text
Cullen usually wakes up first, and today isn't any different. He opens his eyes to find Dorian lying on his front beside him, the sheets pooled down low by his hips, exposing the bare olive skin that Cullen so adores. Sunlight streams through the roof, warming Cullen's chilled skin and giving Dorian's body a beautiful glow. Cullen drinks in the sight before him, propping himself up on his elbow to admire his lover's body. Mornings have become his favorite moment of the day, when everything is quiet and asleep still, when he can enjoy some time with Dorian. He can't stop himself from stroking Dorian's smooth skin, his ears graced with the content moans Dorian emits.
Tired of waiting for Dorian to fully awake, Cullen plasters himself across Dorian's back, dropping light kisses on the latter's shoulder. He revels in Dorian's warm body, tempted to just doze off right here, with Dorian's shoulder as his pillow. For a while, he does drifts back off to sleep, rousing again when Dorian shifts and groans.
"Finally awake?" Cullen inquires, fighting back a yawn as Dorian rests his other cheek on his pillow, Cullen's position over him undisturbed.
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"You're one to talk, sleeping on me like a log," Dorian replies, letting out a soft chuckle.
"I grew tired while I waited for you to wake up," Cullen says as he nuzzles against Dorian's shoulder. "Happy Birthday, love."
"It's not my birthday, Amatus," Dorian retorts, causing Cullen to doubt for a second, but he recovers quickly. He's been waiting for this day for weeks now, after all, having gotten the precious piece of information from Josephine.
"It is," Cullen assures him, lips brushing against Dorian's skin. There's a pause, during which Cullen can picture Dorian thinking fast in mind, recalling the date.
"Kaffas," Dorian mutters under his breath. "Has it been a year already?"
Cullen hums his assent, amused by the string of Tevine curses that follows the first one.
"I take it you're not fond of birthdays?"
"Oh, I am, just not my birthdays," Dorian says with an exasperated sigh, rolling over on his back and helping Cullen settle on his chest. Cullen is more than happy with this position, and wraps his arm around Dorian's waist, his face resting above Dorian's beating heart. "I'm not getting any younger, dear Cullen."
"None of us are, Dorian," Cullen replies, unable to keep himself from yawning this time as Dorian's cards his fingers through his hair. "At least you'll always be younger than I am."
"That is true, but only by a few months," Dorian says, heaving another sigh. "Must we really get out of bed?"
"What of your birthday celebration?"
"Please tell me you're jesting."
Cullen stifles a laugh when he looks up to find Dorian's horrified expression. "Dorian, do you really not want people gathering to celebrate you?"
"Well, that does sound appealing," Dorian concedes, his fingers resuming the soothing motions over Cullen's scalp. "I will just tell people I'm 20."
"People know we're the same age, Dorian."
"How?!"
"Word spread around about our relationship," Cullen starts explaining what he thinks is the work of Josephine and Leliana combined. He would not be surprised if the Inquisitor had something to do as well. Their colleagues are oddly invested in their relationship, now that Cullen thinks about it. "Among other things, it's become known that we were both born the same year."
"Well, I do hope some other details of our relationship remain private," Dorian says, and Cullen can only agree.
"As do I."
Cullen has never been bothered by gossip, he's learned to brush it off over the years. As Commander, he cannot let what everybody thinks of him affect his job on a daily basis. He does not care much either of what others think of his relationship with Dorian, but he does hold some things close to his heart, such as Dorian's blush whenever he's caught stealing sweets from the kitchens. Or the way Dorian switches to his native tongue when he curses, the meaning behind the words explained to Cullen only. Cullen cherishes all of these details he's accumulated over the months, keeping them all to himself.
"Well, how long do we have until we must show ourselves?" Dorian asks eventually, his stomach starting to rumble.
"Not until tonight, love," Cullen answers as he moves from his comfortable position to straddle Dorian, leaning down to capture the latter's lips in a slow kiss. "Are you ready for your first present?"
"If it is what I'm thinking, then yes," Dorian replies with a heady gaze, hands cupping Cullen's buttocks. "You know, I just might start appreciating my birthdays, Amatus."
"I aim to please," Cullen says, framing Dorian's face with his hands to get another kiss out of him.
"That you do."