Home for Christmas

Home for Christmas

Title: Home for Christmas
Author: Golddragon85/Tovaras
Game: Dragon Age: Inquisition (AU)
Characters/pairing: Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford

Disclaimer: I own nothing besides my own play-through of the games and whatever my head manages to come up with when it comes to the story and situations. ... Sadly, I don't make money out of it.

***

‘I wanna go home for Christmas
Let me go home this year
I wanna go home for Christmas
Let me go home this year’

Dorian’s family never celebrated Christmas, they never had.
But they hosted Christmas parties. Elaborate ones, with fantastic food, presents and even decorations, but it was not because they celebrated it.
No, no.

It was for his father’s business-partners and his mother’s lady-friends.
Important people, people with wealth, status and importance in society.

They didn’t celebrate it because they were a family who loved one another. It was merely business in one way, shape or form. Christmas wasn’t a holiday; it was a business-opportunity.

Dorian had only truly celebrated Christmas once in his life; with his ex-boyfriend.
When he and his ex-boyfriend had been madly, truly in love, happy and living life.

It had been a joyous occasion and it had been the first time he had met all of his ex’s family. He had been invited to dinner and such before then, but now he had had the chance to see all of his siblings and their children in addition to his ex’s parents.
They had all been so warm, so welcoming, setting a seat at their table for him as they tried to stuff him to the brim with turkey and stuffing as well as cake. Even as he all but begged for mercy, the onslaught of food and drinks had continued and when he had curled up with his ex’s bed in the evening, he had slept heavier that he could ever remember.
Full, warm and loved.

But not anymore… And it was all his own fault.

Inhaling deeply, Dorian watched as his family’s servants hung up the last decorations in preparation for the great dinner his family would hold that evening.
The food was already being prepared by the greatest chefs his father’s money could buy and while the food was made with skill and perfection, Dorian knew that it would never taste as good as his ex’s mother made it.

Dorian swallowed the knot that had formed in his throat, trying his best to ignore the painful throb that appeared in his chest.

His fault… It had been his fault.

Cullen… Cullen had been far too good for him.
Cullen… Sweet, wonderful Cullen with his gentle smile, the golden locks, and warm, loving honey-brown eyes. With his large hands and arms, able to wrap around Dorian completely and make him feel safe.
Cullen who gave more than he took, that did everything to make Dorian happy.

Cullen who had finally had enough of Dorian’s antics and told him to leave his apartment.

It had been ugly, so very, very ugly.

Cullen had just wanted a simple celebration this year, just the two of them. He had made plans for them, had wanted to share and teach Dorian how to celebrate the holiday with fun, love and comfort instead of the elaborate show-off that Dorian was used to.
And Dorian had refused. He had actually laughed and asked “why?”. What was the point? it’s not like Christmas meant anything.
He hadn’t realized what he had said before he saw the look on Cullen’s face. He had looked so sad, so hurt. And Dorian still hadn’t understood, not really. He had tried to cheer him up again, but he had never said he was sorry. Instead he had made things worse by suggesting they “did it his way”. That they could go out and eat somewhere nice for Christmas, just the two of them.
He hadn’t realized that he was just digging the hole deeper and deeper until Cullen had had enough.

They had fought so badly. Their first real fight since they had started dating.
Cullen had been calm, but firm in his words while Dorian had unloaded right away, too used to going on the defensive despite being the one being wrong. He just didn’t realize he was until it was much too late…

“Dorian? Come here, I need a second opinion.”

His mother voice jolted him out of his thoughts and it just made him annoyed. Yes, the thoughts hurt, but he felt he had to have them. He deserved the pain because he was the one who fucked up and he wasn’t sure if this could be remedied.

“Since when did my opinion matter, mother,” he asked with a slightly sour voice as he got up from his seat.
“Or have you finally found something useful about my sexuality and I can now look forward to a new career as the gay fashionista?”

The look his mother gave him spoke a thousand words, but Dorian couldn’t help the cheeky grin that appeared on his face.
Thirty years of age, a successful university teacher and professor in history and literature and with several masters under his belt, and he still couldn’t resist acting like a smug little brat at times.

“Just come here and tell me what you think. I worry that this is too much,” his mother replied to his comment, her voice slightly icier now.
“I am considering removing the gold tinsels and replace it with silver, but I am not sure silver will go with the red… Gold and red is such a good match.”

“Why don’t you replace the red with green then,” Dorian replied, not really looking at the tastefully decorated hallway. Banners and tinsel in red and gold was draped just underneath the roof and the entrance to the main hallway along with the railing to the stair leading up to the second floor.
Large Christmas ornament, spheres and ice taps was hanging from the tinsel and banners, and by the door a fake tree was standing, all perfect and decorated, creating a scene that was like a Christmas card. Tasteful, beautiful, but to Dorian, cold. Impersonal. It was a scene out of a bad Christmas commercial, showing the perfect life and the perfect holiday.
It was enough to make him feel a little sick.

“That is a good idea, that will match the ice taps so much better,” his mother replied, clapping her hands together as she started barking out orders at the poor decorators. “Quickly, get that down and replace it with silver and green!”

“Glad to be off assistance,” Dorian mumbled as he returned to his seat, fishing his cellphone up from his pocket so he could stare at it.

He had sent Cullen several messages, even tried calling him a few times, but he had gotten nothing back.
Their fight had been almost a week ago and with no words from his ex-lover, Dorian was getting more and more convinced that they were done.

Not that Dorian blamed Cullen for not wanting to talk to him.
Dorian had acted like a child when it came to the situation. When Dorian had been asked to leave, Dorian had left, telling Cullen icily that he “knew when he was not welcome anymore”, heavily implying a breakup.

Sighing, Dorian checked his messages again, looking at the messages he had sent while resisting the urge to send another one.
Nothing good would come out from that, he believed, especially considering the nature of his messages so far.
He was making light off it, even joking and he knew that that was bad. He knew he was supposed to say other things, but he honestly did not know what to say or how to say it. He had never been in a situation like this before and he honestly did not know what to do. He had the finest education money could buy, but he had never learned how to handle his own emotions.
He could blame his upbringing, his parents, his childhood, but when he had left home, he could have learned.
He had no excuse.

“Dorian?”

Mentally sighing, Dorian looked up from his phone, one eyebrow raised. “Yes, mother?”

“Go get yourself ready, the guests will be here soon.”

“… It’s three a ’clock, mother.”
His mother didn’t respond, merely stared at Dorian with one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, a strict look on her face that dared Dorian to even try challenge her.
Dorian rolled his eyes and stood up. “Fine, fine, you could just tell me you wanted me out of here for a bit. God forbid anyone see your gay son,” he said with a slight growl in his voice.

“Dorian,” his mother growled warningly and Dorian could tell that he was stretching her limits.

“I am going, I am going,” he sighed, waving his hand at her as he went up the stairs to the second floor. He wasn’t about to look a gift-horse in the mouth, any excuse to get away from his mother and her barking, and his father’s return home was a good one.

As he reached the second floor, Dorian quickly headed to his old room, which was more like a small apartment. When he had grown up, he had become used to a life of luxury, expecting the finer things in life, but as he had matured he had actually started feeling more trapped amongst the expensive things.
Still, as a grown man, he appreciated the fact that he had all this space because it meant more privacy for himself. A large bedroom with a large, soft bed, a private bathroom with both a shower and a bathtub, a small living room and even a small little kitchen-nook with a mini-fridge and a microwave.
It had once been a haven, a safe place as he grew up and even now, as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, Dorian could appreciate the feeling of being safe when coming in there. This was his place, his space. Nobody could hurt him here.

Well… In theory.

Sighing, Dorian looked down at his phone again as he walked over to his bed, waiting, hoping and praying that he would get something, anything from his ex, but the phone remained silent.
He stood by the bed for a few seconds, just looking at the black screen before dropping his phone onto the mattress, feeling disappointed. He didn’t know why he was feeling so disappointed, he had nobody but himself to blame, but he was still hoping. He didn’t want to give up what they had had, but he also knew it was not up to him.
Cullen had to want it too.

Deciding that he was more or less torturing himself by now, Dorian left his phone on the bed while gathering some clothes for him to wear. He needed, even longed for a long bath and by God, he was going to take one. The “festivities” wouldn’t start until six pm, he had three hours to pamper himself a little before he had to go down to suffer.
Thankfully he had the ability to completely disconnect his brain while still looking like he was paying attention, which would hopefully help him survive the evening.

At least he hoped so.

***

Dorian was more than ready to jam the fork into his throat as he was forced to listen to another one of his father’s “interesting” stories from work, told to the dinner guests that had accompanied them that evening. Three men of important and their wives, who looked so cosmetically fixed that they had permanent frowns on their faces.
The stories that were told were stories his father thought were funny, that made the dinner guests laugh in an almost condescending tone, but were aimed at the average joe. Like the story of the poor delivery-boy who had spent half an hour waiting for Dorian’s father to get his finger out of his ass so he could continue working, yet he was punished for being late to other deliveries.

He had gone from spending a glorious hour in the tub, just listening to music and reading to sitting among people he couldn’t relate to, feeling like scooping out his eyeballs with the desert-spoon would be a kinder fate.
What he truly such a cruel man to have deserve this?

One part of him screamed yes and the other was merely shrugging, which didn’t make him feel any better.

After the main-course had been devoured and their wine-glasses had been refilled, Dorian tried his best to ignore the many stories that were passed between the guests before one of the men, one that Dorian had mentally dubbed “Mister Triple-chin” due to the man’s rather solid appearance, turned to him.
“It is a pleasure seeing you again, Dorian. You were just a scrawny little brat the last time I saw you.”

“Time has been kind to me,” Dorian replied while mentally adding “though not as much to you,” as he smiled at Mister Triple-chin.

“So your father told us, though he said your education was special.”

“Hardly, it was just not what he… had hoped,” Dorian replied, nipping at his wine as he tried not to let his frustrations get the better of him.

“It is beneath him,” his father replied while Dorian’s mother reached out to pat his hand, wearing the most fake smile Dorian had ever seen.
“Dorian is a caring person and he wishes to give those less fortunate than him a chance to reach higher.”

‘Nice one, mother,’ Dorian thought to himself, almost snorting into his wine.
“It is a subject and education that is dear to me,” he added after putting his glass down, giving Mister Triple-chin a pleasant smile.

Mister Triple-chin laughed, the triple chins jiggling from the motion. It was almost hypnotizing.

“Ah, yes. That is admirable. I will look forward to when you decide to join your father though, I am told you are sharp. I already know you are witty though, you were already showing your tongue as a teen.”

“I have been told wonderful things about my tongue,” Dorian replied, taking some pleasure from seeing his father frown at him from the corner of his eye.
“It has given me a lot of credit.”

“So when are you going to settle down, kid? Find a pretty little thing, have a couple of kids?” Mister Triple-chin asked as he downed the remains of his wine, using the red cloth to dry off the liquid from his thin, chapped lips.

“Dorian is far too busy to think about that,” Dorian’s mother replied before Dorian could speak up. “He is still young, he can afford to wait until he is done playing around. Of course, we hope it will be soon, I am dying to become a grandmother.”

“Actually, I had a partner,” Dorian said cryptically, knowing it would infuriate his parents even more. That, and his mother’s commends were pissing him off. “But alas, we… had some disagreements and we are currently on a break.”

Both his mother and father sent him downright venomous stares, daring him to speak Cullen’s name or even imply about his gender.
“I believe we are ready for dessert now,” his mother said, her voice icy cold as she smiled. “How does some home-made carrot-cake sound?”

Dorian rolled his eyes some, refilling his wineglass. That cake was as home-made as the rest of this party was and while he knew it was good, he didn’t feel like eating another plate of something that had been served on lies.

The rest of the party was, naturally, more excited about the mention of dessert and before long all the left-over food, glasses, wine and everything that had been used for their dinner, replaced now with cakes, creams, brandy and port-wine.
Dessert was as slow as the dinner itself had been, with more laughter, stories and fake pleasantries as they devoured what had been served.
Dorian himself was just about fed up as it was, declining anymore food and sticking to brandy. Maybe he could get himself drunk enough to pass out somewhere.

When the last guest’s appetite was finally satisfied, the party retreated to the living room to continue their festivities.
When Dorian was a child, this was a point where he could be excused to his room, which he would happily accept. Now that he was an adult, he was expected to join them, to sit and talk with the men about business and money while the women were talking about fashion and gossiping about their neighbors and lady friends. He sat somewhere in-between, finishing off his second glass of brandy in a very short time. It was starting to finally take effect, but not in the way he wanted. Instead of getting sleepier, he was getting angrier, sadder, the Christmas decorations and the music just bringing forth memories from a time that was simply better.

“You all disgust me.”

The silence that followed was almost deafening and Dorian didn’t have to look at the people to know that they were staring at him.

“You all disgust me,” Dorian repeated as he stood up to refill his brandy, he himself already feeling ten times braver. “All of you. Sitting here talking about money, mocking the less fortunate, fattening yourself up on booze and food while celebrating a holiday your hosts doesn’t even care about. You are disgusting.”

Dorian’s father let out a nervous laughter as he stood up. “Don’t mind him, he was never able to hold his alcohol,” he said. “And he has been under some stress lately and- “

“Oh, shut up, father,” Dorian sneered as he slammed his half-full glass back down onto the table.
“I am not stressed, I am angry. Angry because the way you two raised me cause me to ruin the one good thing I had in my life. The one pure, good and honest thing. Because you taught me to be disgusted with myself, but now… Now I am disgusted with you. All of you.”
He pointed his finger at the group, trying to ignore the sour feeling that was filling his mouth. He had to get it out or he would choke on it. He didn’t care if he wouldn’t be welcome home in a while, it wasn’t anything new. He had places he could go.

“Because you are not caring at all. You are using this as an excuse to brag. Oh, so you gave a percent to some charity, but you are also writing it off as something you can get tax back on, meaning you didn’t give shit,” he sneered as he pointed towards Mister Triple-chin. “And your plastic wife is bragging about giving to the Orphanage, but she didn’t set foot in that place. God forbid that she was seen there. No, she had to send the maid to do it.”
He didn’t stop there, continuing on between all of the guests; fake gifts, denying hard-working people a bonus because “lack of money”, but going on vacations themselves, buying expensive gifts just to show that they had the money and calling them “trinkets”.
Then he finally landed on his parents, his eyes now red and wet as he started trembling. “And you two… You don’t even celebrate this holiday, you never had. This has never been for us, but for “them”. Your fake business friends, so you can show how generous you are, but only to them. You do not donate to anyone, you do not care.”

“Dorian-“ Dorian’s father was looking pissed, but Dorian merely held his hand up while exclaiming a loud “ah!”.
“I was not done, father dearest. Because I know how this will end. It will end like it does every fucking year. You all will get shitfaced, one of you will grope someone else’s wife and I will have to look at your faces as you, dear father, start complaining about your fag of a son. The son who refuses to get married to a woman you located somewhere and who wanted an education that was interesting to me.”
He was trembling now, but it felt good… Oh, how good it felt.
“Only one supported me and that was Cullen. My boyfriend. My lover. The one good thing that I had in my life, but that I managed to ruin because I am not able to speak honestly about my feelings, all because of you! I wasn’t able to tell him yes to having a small Christmas party because Christmas had no meeting to me. I didn’t get it until now. And I wasn’t able to tell him that I love him and now he is gone. Because of me. Because I don’t -get- it.”
He felt his breath hitch as he struggled with breathing. “You all disgust me. Because you wear this fake, disgusting masks over your faces. But I disgust me too. Because I lived a lie. And now I can’t take back that lie.”

The room was silent expect for the soft Christmas music playing in the background. There was a mix of shock, embarrassment and just downright horror on the people’s faces and Dorian wished he could have enjoyed it. It was clear that nobody knew that to say or even find a place where they could say anything. And it was clear that his parents were trying to get back from the shock of their son’s sudden out-lash and once they did… Well. Dorian didn’t want to be there once they did.

“Well... You don’t disgust me.”

The voice was soft, quiet, but it was the sweetest of music to Dorian’s ears once the voice reached him and recognition set in.
He slowly turned, not daring to believe, but once he saw him, he did.

“… Cullen..?”

Cullen smiled some, carefully removing the god-awful knitted cap from his head, revealing the slightly damp, golden curls underneath.
“I wanted to surprise you,” he murmured softly. “It took some time for me to cool off and I will admit… Cassandra had to kick me in the leg a couple of times before I truly got it and when I did… I felt ashamed. I didn’t want to barge back in, but once I was over feeling sorry for myself… I came here. Straight here. I tried calling because I reached town, knowing… Well. Knowing. But you didn’t answer so…”
Cullen trailed off, shrugging lightly with his shoulders as he looked to the side awkwardly.

The silence appeared and it was like the entire room was holding their breath, not knowing who would respond first and in which way.
Dorian decided to be the first one to respond and quickly crossed the room, heading towards Cullen. As soon as he was within arm’s reach of his lover, he grabbed him by the shoulders and tugged him in for a kiss. He strangled gasp from his mother or father was music to his ear, but he quickly forgot about everything as Cullen kissed him back, feeling his lover’s arms around his waist as he was tugged close.

Home. He was home again.

“I am so sorry,” he whispered against Cullen’s mouth. “I didn’t mean the things I said, I just didn’t understand… I do now though, I do,” he rambled, only to be silenced by Cullen’s lips. He let out a muffled whine as he grasped at Cullen’s shoulders, then slowly let his arms drape around his neck.

“It’s okay,” Cullen whispered softly against Dorian’s lips. “It’s okay. I should have been a little kinder about it too. I was being harsh and unfair, I knew that you weren’t used to Christmas. I should have explained my reasons why…”

Now it was Dorian’s turn to silence his lover, kissing him hard. “Ssssh,” he whispered. “Let’s not speak. Not here. I want to go back home. Home with you.”

Cullen nodded, squeezing Dorian close as he smiled at him before glancing over behind Dorian’s shoulder. He let out a small, nervous chuckle. “Erm… Sorry for barging in, by the way. I didn’t mean to be rude or interrupt. Your help let me in when I rang the bell so… Um… Happy holidays?”

Dorian’s father was just gaping, looking like a fish that had been dragged out of the water before he managed to regain his composure. “… I think you should go,” he replied, his voice hard, yet cracking somewhat. “Both of you.”

“Gladly,” Dorian replied, keeping himself in Cullen’s arms. “You can send me my items if you so desire, but don’t feel obligated too. I have everything I need right here.” He smiled at Cullen, squeezing him gently. “And I’ll be going home for Christmas.”

The way Cullen’s face just lit up when he said that was the best gift Dorian could ever have hoped for and before his parents could say anything further, Dorian tugged Cullen out of the living room and towards the front door.
“Thank you for letting him in, Maria,” he smiled at their maid as they passed her, feeling genuinely grateful for her actions.

“Have a merry Christmas, Master Dorian,” Maria merely smiled, winking at Dorian as she went to fetch more brandy, knowing that the remaining guests would need it after that display.

The weather outside was cold, even by Tevinter standards, but Dorian didn’t care. He was too happy.
“So, did you fly here?” he asked. “Or did you come by train?”

“I drove,” Cullen replied, smiling at Dorian as he quickly ushered him to the car. “Because I wanted to come straight home to you to fetch you. Or… Well. Hoping at least that I could fetch you. When I got the messages from you, saying you had gone home and how sorry you were… I had to come. I had to speak to you and I had to say I was sorry.”

“I am the one who should say sorry,” Dorian murmured. “And I am glad you are here, giving me the chance to make up for what I said and did.”

“Then let us both agree that we are sorry,” Cullen chuckled as he opened the door for Dorian, letting him inside the still warm car.
“I am up for driving back home,” he added softly, closing the door after Dorian before getting into the driver’s seat as quickly as he could. “I am hyped up on coffee and donuts so I have energy to spare.”

“Take us as far away from here as you can muster,” Dorian smiled softly. “When you are tired, we’ll stop somewhere and then… Take it from there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Cullen murmured before leaning over to steal a kiss from Dorian, letting it linger.
Dorian happily returned it, adding a small, happy mewl against Cullen’s lips before leaning back against his seat as Cullen started up the car.

“… Merry Christmas, Cullen,” he whispered softly. “Thank you for this gift.”

Cullen just smiled and pulled out of the parking-space, starting the long road back home.
“Merry Christmas, Dorian. And thank you for my gift.”

Dorian had a sneaking suspicion he knew that Cullen was meaning something specific and he also had a feeling he knew what, but he would make sure of it as soon as they were both a little more settled.
He knew they had things they needed to talk about, things they had to air out, but he was prepared for it. He believed both of them were.

For now, they were heading back home to make it right.
They would go home for Christmas.