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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

Fake Dating for @stupidlullabies by @hcvillicrd

Festivus had the tendency of being an absolute disaster for Dorian Pavus, whether he intentionally pushed the holiday in that direction or not. Add in family reunions, and he could be sure that at least three people in the family would be crying by the end of the night. This year, however, he had one goal in mind: his eyeliner would not be smeared as he walked out the door, and he would carry himself with pride.

The only issue? It had become something of a habit to shock and astound not only his parents but every other extended member of the family with some sort of surprise. Last year it had been dreadfully long hair, the year before a ridiculous amount of piercings, and the year before that he had gladly shown off his brand-new tattoos in all their wonderful Tevinter-esque style. This year would be the year to undo all others.

And that’s how he ended up calling Cremisius Aclassi at one in the morning three days before the family reunion, asking if he could borrow his large Qunari friend for the get-together.

“Altus, what now?” Krem picked up the phone sounding all but awake, and Dorian could hear Lace’s quiet grumbling in the background, which meant that he’d most likely woken them up. Oops, how unfortunate.

The mage ran a hand over his eyes and wondered on how exactly to phrase this without causing Cremisius to have a heart attack. “I need your help. There’s a Pavus gathering on Friday and I need a boyfriend-”

“No, absolutely not, there will be no way in hell that I ever go with you to a shitshow like that! It’d be like going back to Tevinter all over again. Do you want me to throw myself to the dogs? Is that something you find fun?” Krem started blathering before he could even finish, and Dorian patiently listened to all the reasons his dear friend had decided that no, they would not look good together.

“No, but I do want to borrow your Qunari friend for the occasion. He seems like he’d be a man up to the task!” A daring and daunting request, maybe, but it was worth a shot. There was a long pause and silence dragged between the two for an agonizingly long moment. Dorian settled a bit more into his comfortable arm chair, closing his laptop and setting it aside while he waited.

“I don’t know. I’d have to talk to him. Shit, he might be crazy, but I don’t think he’d be that crazy.”

“Just give me his number, and we’ll work it out between ourselves. No need for your involvement beyond this point, I promise.”

“Fine, I’ll text it to you.” There was a sudden beep and the droning tone that told Dorian that Krem had decided to hang up. Huffing, he re-opened his laptop and waited. About five minutes after he’d started reading about Varric Tethras’ spit-shined sequel to the absolute drivel known as Hard in Hightown, his phone made a pinging sound. Krem seemed to have made good on his promise, and sure enough, there sat the Iron Bull’s number.

***

They met the next day for coffee, when Dorian had finished up with work and decided that he most definitely needed a pick-me-up. As much as he adored Alexius, reading the same article about Time and Its Theoretical Extravagances for the Wealthy for details five times was not all that fun.

The little bell over the door to Cadash’s Coffee rang chipperly when he stepped inside at 7:43 PM, and was surprised to see that Sera was not there. She was truly a barista for the ages, and he’d noticed months ago when he’d started swinging by that she had a habit of drawing bees all over the coffee cups before giving them away. Adaar was behind the counter instead, curled horns nearly scraping against the ceiling. No one ever said dwarf establishments were tall.

“Dorian!” Adaar said, smile bright enough to outshine the sun if he really wanted it to.

“Adaar, my dear, how’ve you been? Everything working out with Katari?” They made small talk as the Vashoth whipped together Dorian’s usual drink and set it on the counter. Dorian passed off the payment and added a dollar to the tip jar with a wink before sitting down.

At eight o’clock the bell rang again, but Dorian didn’t look up from his phone as he sipped at his skinny caramel macchiato, scrolling through Cassandra’s alarmed texts about how Lavellan had somehow managed to ruin the copier at the workplace for the third time. Apparently, Roderick was chewing them all out. No surprise there.

He did look up, however, when the chair across his table scraped against his floor. It was instinct to open his mouth and berate who’d moved it, but he found himself speechless.

Standing before him was a seven-foot-tall, muscular, poorly dressed Qunari with horns that were likely wider than the doors to Dorian’s apartment. Oh yes, this simply had to be the Iron Bull. And he would work perfectly.

“You must be Dorian,” said the Bull, and Dorian swallowed around the dust that had decided to settle in his mouth. He washed it down with a sip from his drink.

“I’m assuming you’re the Iron Bull? Cremisius’ friend?” He replied with a short nod, sitting up and putting his phone back into his pocket.

“You’d be right. So, you’re needing help with some sort of elaborate scheme regarding family?” Well, at least he was right to the point. Perhaps this wouldn’t turn out to be horrible, after all. “Need a little arm candy for your arm candy?” The man tried to wiggle one eyebrow, and it was only then that Dorian noticed how scarred his face was. The eyepatch would only add to the rustic charm, he supposed.

“Ah, yes. My family is having a reunion at a cousin’s place in town and I intend to surprise them with a new boyfriend. If you couldn’t already guess, that is.”

“Yeah, Krem told me. So, what’re the guidelines you had in mind? Want me to act a certain way? Formal wear?”

“Just… be yourself, I guess,” the words were let out after a moment or two of thinking. “I’m alright with touching as long as it isn’t too aggressive, but it needs to be enough to take them all by surprise. You’ll be needing some sort of dress shirt and slacks. And be prepared for the worst of barbs. I’m from Tevinter, so… well, the relatives are a bit aggressive.”

The Bull smirked, eyes roving over Dorian in a way that made him want to squirm in the best of ways. “In-laws from hell?”

Dorian could only nod. “Thank you for doing this, by the way. I know it’s sort of last minute, and you really don’t know me, but I wanted to… put the nail in the coffin, this year. Maybe by doing this they’ll finally leave me alone.” Of course, he knew it wasn’t really true. He didn’t like the idea of being alone no matter what drastic measures his father had taken to change him. Family was an important connection to have - and being cut off meant being cut off from Maevaris, Felix, and even Alexius.

“I’ve got you.  Family shit can be tough. Happy to help.” Judging by the way the Bull was moving his eyes, he was trying to wink with one eye. Dorian snorted.

“Pick me up at five? We won’t stay the entire time, just long enough to make an impression. I’ll buy you dinner afterwards.”

“Sounds like a plan. Before you take off, how do you feel about hand-holding? Back touching?”

Dorian smiled, eyes crinkling at the edges like worn paper. “It’s fine by me. Nothing too crazy.”

***

The night really couldn’t have gone any better, and in retrospect, maybe better choices could’ve been made. It had started off so smoothly. No one had bothered addressing Iron Bull’s clothing or race or the eyepatch until after they all sat down for dinner, when Halward seemed to have decided that he absolutely had to ask what Bull did for work (construction with some personal training on the side), which had led to income (anywhere from $50,000 to $75,000 a year), which then led to providing for Dorian if the need arose and they were not available. Bull answered the questions smoothly, as if it were a conversation he was interested in and not an actual interrogation.

The translation - at least in Dorian’s head - seemed to fix out to something along the lines of: will you help our homosexual son, since we have no desire to and seem incapable of doing so?

Of course, it only went downhill from there when Dorian’s great auntie Manon screeched something unintelligible at Bull later on in the night about being a brutal heathen that should’ve been burned at the stake like Andraste, and then Maevaris almost (politely) ripped off her Uncle Drelvis’ head.

Alexius and Felix left the party when three of the smaller cousins insisted on pushing Felix’s wheelchair for him, and someone had gotten run over.

So it was with great remorse and sorrow that Dorian left the large house hand in hand with Bull. Judging by the way his heart was threatening to bust open his ribcage with how fast it was beating, he could only guess that he was enjoying it. Bull had dry and calloused hands, yes, but they were warm and comforting.

“Well, I achieved my goal. I didn’t cry in front of my family! Isn’t that a wonder?” Dorian remarked as he pulled himself up into Iron Bull’s truck, slamming the door shut. The Qunari got in on the opposite side, and the engine roared when it came to life.

“Heh, yeah, I thought for a minute there I was gonna lose it when one of the crotchety old women made a remark about my horns. Felt the tears well up in my eye and everything!” They both laughed, and suddenly Dorian felt almost affronted by how stark Bull’s features were, sharp and striking even in the dark of the car.

“So, dinner?” Bull proposed. Dorian shifted in his seat for a moment or two, unsure of what to say or where to go with the entire ordeal. He smiled at Bull.

“How about we go back to my apartment instead? I can cook something up for you, and you can stay for a bit. Maybe we’ll get to know one another a bit better.” His words apparently seemed funny to the Bull, because next thing he knew, the man was chuckling.

“Yeah? We gonna shock and astound the brood next year too? Maybe we can wear matching sweaters with Festivus lights on ‘em and everything.”

Dorian laughed along with him, and the warmth in his chest bloomed to life. A hand settled over his - a large, scarred, grey one - and his heart jumped in surprise. Maybe even shock!

“Sure, let’s do that.”

He looked back at the house with no sense of joy or happiness as Bull pulled away from the curb and onto the road, but looking back at his boyfriend - ah, fake boyfriend? Maybe things would be better in the future.

And nothing shocked relatives more than a visit from the same boyfriend twice in a row.

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