"Not only did I kill your scumbag of a father," Tannusen leaned against the doorway of the throne room, and watched Nathaniel jerk away from the fire-pit in surprise. "But do you want to know what I did when the Architect caught us, little Howe?"
They were alone in here, the huge room cast mostly in shadow. The fire only barely warmed it at this hour, with no one to tend it. Finding Nathaniel here, so late at night, was an unexpected boon. The dark-haired archer glared at him with narrowed eyes, "You have no right to speak of my father," he bit out in a clipped tone.
They hadn't known each other for long. Nathaniel had only just barely recovered from taking the Joining when they'd gone to that mine, where the Architect had taken them with a cleverly-placed glyph. One which, as a side-note in Tannusen's own thoughts, he was going to have to go back and study quite thoroughly.
Regardless, Nathaniel hadn't known him for nearly long enough. Otherwise he'd have known not to give a self-destructive Tannusen Surana such easy ammunition.
"I killed Howe," Tannusen drawled, stepping into the throne room properly, making his way slowly towards Nathaniel, "and now his son follows at my heels like a mabari puppy, all wide-eyed and eager to please his father's killer."
"Shut up," the rogue snapped, looking away. "I was warned about you, you know. The Seneschal told me you might try to do something like this to punish yourself. I know you're insane."
"Funny how that seems to be stopping you from obliging," Tannu purred, stepping quite close to the human's side, leaning in close enough for his breath to stir the man's bound, black hair. "Maybe all that talk of avenging your father was just talk."
"I can't kill you," Nathaniel ground out, turning away, "the darkspawn--"
"There's other things to do to a man besides kill him," the Warden cut him off mercilessly, his tone sly, "Unless you secretly enjoy being my submissive little subordinate. Is it just like following daddy around, little Howe?"
"You are a cruel monster," Nathaniel spat, his whole body visibly tense.
"Oh yes," Tannusen agreed silkily, "you don't know the half of it."
"And what did you do when the Architect captured us?" the human hissed, "You seemed so eager to tell me."
"I literally got off on it," Tannusen purred, stepping around to Nathaniel's side again, trailing a fingertip over the man's thick leather armor. "Just think, the mighty Warden-Commander you've put all this faith into, and I talked a darkspawn into jerking me off."
Which wasn't wholly true, but he was content to tell the story that way. Utha had been the little ring-leader of that whole debacle, but Tannusen had certainly encouraged and enjoyed it.
"You did what?" Now, finally, Nathaniel whirled to stare at him, face pale with a mixture of emotion. The impotent rage Tannusen had been carefully stirring up, and shock, and a little disgust.
"You heard me," Tannusen drawled, boldly leaning against the front of Nathaniel's armor, so close he could kiss him if he wanted. "I got it to wrap its long, cold fingers around me, and stroke, and squeeze..."
"You're making that up," the human's face paled further.
"You want to know the best part, little Howe?" the Commander asked, his voice low and his tone silky, "I even got it to lick the tip, just once."
Nathaniel shoved him away, backpedaling a step. His fists were clenched. Tannusen grinned, opened his mouth to keep talking--
A flash of white took his vision, and when it cleared he was sprawled on the floor, tasting blood. Nathaniel loomed over him, one hand fisted in the front of Tannusen's robes and the other cocked to punch him again. "I can't wait to get it to fuck me," Tannu purred, "I hope you get to watch."
Dimly, he was still pretty sure that the creature didn't have any such thing as a cock, but that wasn't in the least bit the point.
Nathaniel punched him again, his face twisting with anger and revulsion. Tannusen lost track of what was going on for a moment -- the archer had a damn strong arm. "You are supposed to be our best hope against the darkspawn, you sick bastard."
"Has anyone ever told you that your voice is pure sex when you're angry?" Tannusen asked with a slow grin, feeling his bottom lip split quite badly with the motion. He shifted his legs apart, just as much as he could with Nathaniel crouched over him. He was wearing those badly-fitting robes again, and nothing under them, and his interest in the topic was plain to see, straining up against the fabric.
Nathaniel noticed, glancing down with a sneer. "You're really desperate to be punished, aren't you?"
"You don't know the half of it, little Howe," Tannu lifted his hips, "or does it not appeal, pinning me down and taking what you want from me? Short of my life, at least. You people still need me; at worst I'll keep the darkspawn distracted with fucking me until a real Commander shows up..."
"Why should I give you what you want?" Nathaniel pulled back, the rage not leaving his voice. "Why should I want you when you've already bent over for the Darkspawn, of all things?"
"Because, my dear Nathaniel Howe," it was the first time he'd used the archer's first name, and he did so in a low, slow drawl. Tannusen parted his legs further, and reached up to undo the buttons on the robe, letting it spill open to reveal all of himself in the low firelight. "If you fuck me, you can hurt me."
The Howe was on him faster than Tannusen had hoped; the speed of his movement made the mage's pulse pound in his throat, right where Nathaniel's teeth latched onto him as rough, calloused hands dragged almost possessively over smooth, pale elven skin. That speed and aggression was so very like Zevran that for a single, blissful instant, he could almost fool himself that the Antivan was who had him pressed down to the floor.
The sharp scent of his own blood touching the air made Tannusen's mind go a bit fuzzy, and he moaned into the dark throne-room, not particularly worried about causing enough noise to get caught. "Shut up," Nathaniel hissed after taking his mouth away. The thought had apparently occurred to him, too, though it didn't stop him from fumbling to open his belt and trousers, by the sound of buckles and leather.
"Make me," Tannusen laughed, reaching down to help free the archer from his troublesome leathers. It certainly wasn't as though he didn't have practice at peeling leather away from a hard cock. And hard it was, which made Tannusen grin again, though the expression faded quickly when both of Nathaniel's archer-strong hands clamped down around his throat.
The mage threw his head back, already gasping for air, eyes rolling back in his head. Lust made his pulse race even harder under the constriction, his world narrowing forcibly. "Yessss," he hissed out in between gasps, "good boy."
"Shut." A squeeze. "Up." Another squeeze. Tannusen's fingers dug into the stone floor under them, not even reflexively moving to stop him. "Good," Nathaniel sounded as smug as angry, now, which only continued to make his voice pure sex to Tannusen's ears. "Good boy."
Tannusen would have laughed, had he the air for it.
"Get me in there," Nathaniel ordered, grinding up against Tannusen's spread legs. "I see you already oiled it up for me. Or for someone, at least." His fingers flexed against Tannu's neck, relaxing just a little bit when the mage began to see flickers of light. The archer knew what he was doing; he wasn't going to screw up and knock him out; Tannusen was going to feel every bit of this.
The mage's fingers fumbled, now, but he lined Nathaniel up and wrapped his bare legs around the new Warden's armored waist, gasping in a breath that was barely more than a squeak between Nathaniel's hands as the archer thrust forcefully into him. He'd oiled, yes, but he hadn't stretched, and the human's cock was thick and cruel. The pain made his vision spark again; made him toss his head from side to side, mouth open for air.
There was no regret, no hesitation. Nathaniel speared him to the base and then drew back, only to thrust in even harder this time, starting a bone-jarring rhythm that scraped his armor against Tannusen's thighs with every movement, digging his belt buckle into his hip with every thrust. He was brutal and hateful and cruel, fingers tightening on every thrust in and loosening on every pull back. And it hurt.
And it was everything Tannusen had ever hoped for. His hands twitched, back to resting passively on the floor, palms up. He wanted Nathaniel to drive knives through them, pin him to the ground in truth, trap him, own him, but he didn't want the archer to release his throat. "Harder," he managed to croak out, barely audible. "More."
Nathaniel lifted his neck just an inch or so and then slammed him back down so that his head smacked into the hard stone floor. Tannusen felt himself grin again, and willed his eyes to focus so he could see Nathaniel's hate-filled face.
The human was snarling, teeth bared, brow furrowed, but Tannusen detected an almost... pity? In the Howe's eyes. That wouldn't do. "I fucked your daddy just like this," he croaked out, voice half-rasp, half-squeak between Nathaniel's hands.
Nathaniel roared in fury, that spark of pity vanishing to where it belonged; nowhere near Tannusen. He suddenly pulled out of the mage, quick and strong enough for the legs around his waist to not be a hindrance, and dragged Tannusen up onto his feet.
"I know you're lying," Howe snarled into his face, his grip on Tannusen's throat not loosening, "but I don't care. You want me mad? I'm mad."
He let go, but only long enough to slide around behind Tannusen and grab back onto his neck from behind, calloused fingertips digging hard down into the delicate front of his throat. Nathaniel shoved, and Tannusen took a stumbling step forward. Another, and the mage noticed with his wavering vision that they were approaching the fire pit. His heart pounded harder yet.
Howe shoved a boot into the back of his knee when they were at the pit, forcing Tannusen to kneel down. The pit had a wide stone slope around the actual shallow metal pan that held the coals and small, weak fire that currently occupied it, and so when Nathaniel pushed him down over it it, Tannusen's bare torso was was pressed to hot stone, not the worse alternatives.
Madman that he was, he would have cursed the wide stone slope's existence, had he the ability to do so from within Nathaniel's vice grip on his throat.
"Put me in again," Nathaniel snarled out, and Tannusen reached back to do so, gasping weakly at the renewed pain-pain-pleasure when the human rammed forward before he even had his fingers out of the way. He quickly grabbed onto the lip of the stone slope for support, eyes rolling back as is own hard cock was ground into the smooth, hot stone's rounded edge. It was like having someone's knee pressed into him with every thrust Nathaniel made, except harder and even less forgiving.
Still, he didn't try to shield himself with his hands, just as he didn't try to protect the hipbones that were also being pressed into the stone. Nathaniel seemed to know exactly what he was doing, too, because he paused on the next thrust in and just ground down against him. "You like that?" he growled into Tannusen's ear.
"More," Tannusen gasped out, "please."
"Please?" Nathaniel remained close to his ear, "I like the sound of that. Keep saying it." The Howe pulled back and thrust, hard, back in again, and waited. He only moved again when Tannusen obediently whispered another 'please', and again, and again, until the mage was all but chanting the word, barely audible as Nathaniel's fingers tightened and relaxed and tightened again, using his throat for leverage as he fucked him.
Tannusen couldn't hope to keep track of time. His entire world was narrowed, focused on just their bodies; the struggle for air, the painful stretch inside, and Nathaniel's quiet, rough grunts of effort as he strove toward release.
Eventually, it happened. Nathaniel released his throat suddenly, grabbing onto his shoulders instead for better leverage, pounding into him fast and hard enough that the slap of leather armor against skin was loud in the huge, empty room. Now Tannusen made use of his hands, but only to shove himself back to meet every desperate, edged thrust the human made, wringing a loud, final groan out of Nathaniel as he came deep inside his father's murderer.
Only once he was completely spent, did Nathaniel go still, draping himself over to rest on top of Tannusen, suffocating him in a new way as he was trapped between hot stone and heavy human. The archer's cock, still inside Tannusen, twitched with his pulse as it slowly began to soften again.
Nathaniel panted for air, which was a torment all of its own when Tannusen was still unable to catch a full breath, but the elf made no complaint. He wanted cruelty, after all. Needed it.
Once the human caught his breath, he pulled away, and pulled out, and Tannusen could hear him tucking himself away. "I don't know what to make of you," Nathaniel's voice was quiet, and not nearly as hate-filled as Tannusen had hoped for. The mage could feel Howe's gaze lingering on him as the human climbed to his feet. "Are you just going to stay like that? Give someone else a go when they find you?"
"Maybe," Tannusen's voice sounded wrecked to even his own ears, but he ignored it, turning his head to smile lopsidedly at Howe over his shoulder. His throat was bruised; he'd have a collar of dark marks around it by morning, to go with the bruises on his face, the bite that had broken skin, the bruises on his hips, and the bump on the back of his head...
If only it was enough.
Nathaniel looked... well, he wasn't sure what he looked like. The light was dim, after all. Surely that couldn't be the return of pity in the human's eyes? "You really are mad."
Tannusen's little smile stretched into a grin again, "You have no idea."
That strange look only intensified, and then Howe turned away. Tannusen let his eyes slip shut, deciding that letting the others find him with his ass in the air like this was about right, after all. He was still hard, too, but he was more than used to that. It would go away with time.
But his thoughts were interrupted by the slide of fabric over his leather-chafed skin, and his eyes shot back open again to catch Nathaniel carefully draping his discarded robe over him.
It only got weirder after that; the human silently took ahold of his hips and pulled him up and back, shifting his grip to his waist and the ribs. Finally, once he had a stunned Tannusen basically upright on his knees, the archer scooped him up with one arm under his shoulders and another under his legs, lunging to his feet.
"What are you doing?" Tannusen hadn't been this confused in a long time. "You're supposed to hate me."
"Sorry to disappoint, Commander," Nathaniel sounded almost amused, "I'm dropping you off in your bed before I go find my own. Whatever has been done to my family name, I am no monster."
"I suppose not," Tannusen let his eyes slide shut. "such a pity, that."
Nathaniel made no further reply. He didn't have to.