Actions

Work Header

Whimper

Work Text:

Anders had been quiet at first. More than quiet – he’d been near silent. Bitten off whimpers that died in his throat, shaky breaths that Hawke barely heard over his own ragged moans those first few incredible nights he’d spent with the mage’s pliant, sweat-damp body wrapped around his. Things had changed – Maker, how they’d changed.

Anders was already flushed – high spots of pink on his pale cheeks, chest prickling with sweat as his body arched, straining, toes curled in the crumpled sheets. Hawke groaned at the sight, and curled his fingers again – and this time he was rewarded with a hoarse cry.

“That’s – Maker, that’s good,” Anders panted. He spread his thighs wider, one hand sliding up the elegant column of his throat to fist in his hair.

“Good enough? You don’t want anything else?” Hawke smirked, and began to pump his fingers into him harder. Anders’ entrance was hot and clenching around his fingers, slick with oil and so tempting it hurt. He wanted to be inside him – right now, or he thought he might die. But he wanted Anders prepared. He wanted him stretched open, soft and yielding and ready to take everything he gave him and more.

“You – you tease, of course I want more.” Anders gave a shaky laugh, his lips parting softly as he gasped, body rocked by Hawke’s thrusting fingers.

“Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me.” That definitely made him blush – the flush deepening as he dropped his gaze and gave a shuddering gasp. “Oh – I want – want it hard. Rough.”

“Yeah?” Hawke slammed his fingers in deep, loving the way Anders keened and squirmed, impaling himself on Hawke’s hand. “Held down?”

“Maker, yes…”

“Pounded into the mattress, shaking and whimpering on my cock?”

Garrett,” he said, voice cracking into a shaky whine. He rolled his hips, fucking himself open on Hawke’s fingers, lower lip caught between his teeth to stifle the urgent catch in his voice.

“Tell me.”

“Yeah – yeah, just like that.” Anders gasped, and his cock twitched where it lay, hard against his toned stomach. “’Til I can’t walk. ‘Til I can’t think. I want…” He groaned, throwing his head back. “I want you to come in me.”

“Mmhmm?” Hawke slid in a third finger, feeling Anders’ body give in to his touch, eager and spread and so inviting. His cock throbbed in anticipation, and he curled his fingers again until Anders keened.

“Fuck, Garrett, don’t make me beg.” He covered his face, fingers tangled in the silky mass of his hair as he bucked his hips helplessly.

Hawke watched him, his own breath coming quick and hoarse. Anders’ cock was beautiful – curved, flushed and glistening with fluid at the tip. As Hawke watched it slid across the pale gold skin of his belly, smearing pre-come over freckled skin. Hawke bent down to drag his tongue up the rigid length from base to tip, and Anders arched beneath him with a low moan.

“Making you beg sounds fun,” Hawke growled. “But not like this.”

He surged up Anders’ body, feeling Anders’ sharp intake of breath as Hawke’s broad bulk covered him. Hawke brushed Anders’ hands away from his face, leaning down to crush their lips together with a groan. His mouth was intoxicating – soft moans stolen by Hawke’s tongue, lips parted, pressing eagerly against Hawke’s own as he lowered his weight onto the arching, writhing body beneath him. They moved together, bodies finding a rhythm as Anders grazed his teeth over the fullness of Hawke’s lower lip, and Hawke nipped back hard in response, drawing a yelp from the mage.

He thrust down into the cleft of Anders’ ass, cock dragging through the warm oil slicking his entrance. Anders’ breath caught and his hips bucked, urging Hawke closer, every inch of his squirming body begging to be fucked. He could beg louder than that, though – Hawke knew. He smirked wickedly against his lips, and captured Anders’ wrists in one of his hands, pushing them gently down against the bed above his head.

“Like this?” He murmured against his lips.

“Maker, yes.”

Hawke’s grip tightened, thick fingers crushing Anders’ wrists until he felt the mage gasp into his mouth, swallowing back a whimper. He wouldn’t hold them back for long, Hawke was determined. He slid his other hand between their bodies, gripping Anders’ ass and kneading the pert muscle, blunt nails digging into soft skin. Anders groaned, thighs spread wide as Hawke lined himself up by feel, the head of his cock pressed firmly against the hot, tight hole. He felt Anders shiver, tasted the urgent edge in his moan, and rolled his hips forward.

One last, slow suck at Anders’ lip and Hawke pulled back, admiring the red mark he left behind. He’d be bruised – lips kiss-swollen and dark, skin flushed and hair tousled. He looked like pure temptation, pupils blown wide and lips spit-slick and panting as he gasped Hawke’s name. Hawke braced himself over him, the bulk of his weight pressing down on Anders’ wrists, crossed above his head. The angle pulled his body taut, showing off every inch of pale, freckled skin, pink nipples stiffened and the sparse scatter of his chest hair damp with sweat. Hawke raked his gaze over him with a groan, giving another slow rock of his hips.

“I’m ready,” Anders breathed. “C’mon – you know what I want.”

“I do.” Hawke jerked his hips, biting his lip with a groan as he felt his thick shaft slam into Anders’ eager body. Anders whimpered, head thrown back and his pinned hands curling into fists. “You want – ” another sharp thrust, and Hawke’s cock throbbed at the obscenely wet sound from between Anders’ legs. “ – to be utterly wrecked.”

“Y-yeah…”

Anders’ voice broke into a shuddering cry, raw and needy as Hawke stopped holding back. He dug his fingertips into the back of one slender thigh, shoving Anders’ legs apart roughly and plunging deep into him. Anders’ stretched entrance was slick and heated around his cock, and when he glanced down between their bodies he groaned at the sight. Hawke’s thick shaft had stretched Anders to the edge of what he could take – his rim flushed and glistening as Hawke’s cock pounded into him.

He let his gaze drift higher, over Anders’ tense stomach and heaving chest, following the beaded sweat that slid over the shadow of his ribs and dipped into the puckered skin of old, silver scars. Anders’ face was twisted to the side, eyes fluttering shut and lips slack as he whimpered every time Hawke’s cock plunged into him. Every buck of his hips drove Anders’ body up the bed, trapped between Hawke’s grip and his viciously hard thrusts. He strained, breath hitching with every loud slap of skin on skin as Hawke’s cock filled him utterly, every inch driving into his body and forcing trickles of oil over the firm cheeks of his ass.

“Look at me,” Hawke growled, his own breath shaken. He could already feel the liquid spill of pleasure in his veins, skin heated, spine tingling as flickers of pleasure raced from his cock up his back like the drag of fingernails. He could hold back – long enough to make Anders whimper, and beg, and scream. But Maker, it was tempting to let go when Anders looked like this – sounded like this. Anders bit his lip, and Hawke’s hips jerked, slamming his full length into the panting mage. “I said look.”

Anders’ eyes opened, head thrown back and chest heaving. He looked up at Hawke, cheeks flushed dark as his sharp breaths cracked into desperate moans with every thrust. Hawke’s hand drifted up Anders’ body, feeling the shudder in his breath as his fingers trailed over his ribs, cock twitching at Anders’ needy whine as he paused to pinch and twist one stiff nipple. He let his fingers wander higher, smearing the beaded sweat on Anders’ chest, onto his neck to feel the flutter of his pulse against his palm. Another sharp, deep thrust, and Hawke rolled his hips, driving himself deeper as his balls pressed against the mage’s stretched entrance. Anders’ back arched and his thighs shook, and his moan shattered into a broken whimper as Hawke’s fingers gripped his jaw and dug blunt nails into his cheek.

“You like that?” Hawke rolled his hips again, then pulled back to resume his quick, rough thrusts. Anders’ reply was a wordless cry of pure need, high and loud and desperate. Hawke held him in place, lowering himself over the mage’s writhing body as he pounded into him, losing himself in the hot, slick grip of his ass. He groaned, low and loud and filthy, watching Anders’ eyes widen as his nails left flushed crescents in pale skin.

Anders was beyond words, wrists twisting in Hawke’s grip as he strained to arch up into his thrusts. His thighs shook and he nipped at his swollen lower lip, breath shaking as Hawke held him down and used his eager, shuddering body. Hawke’s fingers drifted over his flushed cheek to trace the curve of his mouth, following the trail of indents of teeth and letting the pads of his fingers dip between spit-slick lips. Anders groaned, tongue darting out to lap at Hawke’s fingers, eyes pleading as he blinked up at Hawke through his lashes and his flush deepened. He was beautifully submissive, sucking eagerly as Hawke’s fingertips pressed deeper. They pushed into his hot, wet mouth, and Anders’ teeth rasped over his knuckles.

Hawke groaned roughly, thrusting calloused fingers between Anders’ lips in time with the harsh, pounding thrusts between his thighs. Anders’ moan became a gag, hoarse and choking around Hawke’s fingers. Hawke was unravelling, pleasure building beneath his hot, sweat-damp skin – he could feel the twitch of Anders’ tongue against his fingertips, the shudder of the mage’s helpless moans in his lips, and the way his body strained and squirmed beneath him. Hawke slid a third finger between his lips, and Anders whimpered, shocked and needy, shattering as he choked on the intrusion. Drool slicked Hawke’s skin and flowed over Anders’ stubbled jaw, leaving his skin gleaming in the low light as his eyes watered and back arched.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Hawke gasped.

Anders’ stifled moan in response shot straight to his cock, a white-hot bolt of pleasure that left him panting. Anders’ head tilted to follow his fingers as Hawke’s next thrust rocked him over the mage’s body, chin pushed back and throat straining as his tongue and lips swept over Hawke’s skin. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, choked groans muffled against Hawke’s palm as his thrust his fingers deep, crushing Anders’ lips against his teeth until he whimpered. His movement over him changed the angle of his thrusts – forcing Anders’ thighs back and spreading him beneath Hawke’s bulk. Hawke heard the wavering catch in Anders’ breath, the urgent, high edge to his cries, and felt him shudder as Hawke’s cock slammed deep into him. He was gagging, whimpering, thighs spread and chest heaving as Hawke growled and panted above him, hips pounding down to slap against his ass.

Anders was close – Hawke could hear it in his muffled, desperate whimpers, could feel it in the slick, heated clench of his body and see it in his reddened skin. He was writhing, panting, caught up in the wave of pleasure that was dragging him to his peak. Hawke dipped his head to nip at Anders’ neck and felt his moan before he heard it, rising in his straining throat to be stifled by the rough press of thick fingers on his tongue. Anders’ cock twitched, the slick head smearing fluid across Hawke’s belly, and as Hawke thrust deep into Anders’ ass again he felt the mage’s body tighten beneath him.

Hawke stilled, and Anders screamed around Hawke’s fingers. Raw, desperate frustration as he squirmed, struggling to drive himself up onto Hawke’s cock, but helplessly pinned. His wrists twisted in Hawke’s grip, held bruisingly tight as his fists clenched white-knuckled and he threw back his head. He gagged, and the choking rasp became a moan against Hawke’s hand. He was broken with need, chest reddened, lashes damp with the threat of tears, hair sweat-damp and tousled around his face. His cock throbbed against the shivering pale skin of his stomach, and Hawke couldn’t resist jerking his spit-slick fingers from between Anders’ lips to trail feather-light over the rigid length. Anders bucked, keening high and desperate, his cry almost a sob as Hawke withdrew his fingers leaving him untouched once more.

“You – fuck Garrett, you bastard.”

Hawke hunched over him with a snarl, holding back from pounding into the tight, silken grip of his ass. He was hot and slick and so tempting, every shudder in his thighs and every hitch in his breath dragging Hawke to breaking point. But he held back.

“You want something?” Hawke gave a slow, shallow rock of his hips. “Or – aren’t you enjoying this, love? Do you want me to stop?”

“F-fuck…” Anders’ voice cracked, and he whimpered, twisting in Hawke’s grip as he hooked his knees over broad, muscular shoulders. “Don’t stop. Maker, please – fuck me…”

Hawke snapped his hips, biting his lip at the loud slap of skin on skin and Anders’ delicious, shattered cry. Warm oil coated his shaft, trickling down his thighs as he set a punishing pace. He slid his hand into the damp strands of Anders’ hair, twisting until he yelped. Every sharp tug was accompanied by a firm jerk of his hips, his thick shaft pounding into the tight heat of Anders’ body. His own ragged groans echoed in his ears as Anders’ needy whimpers pitched higher – loud and desperate and shaken. He’d never been gentle – but now he was merciless, putting all of his strength into every jerk of his hips, all his weight onto Anders’ wrists and dragging cracked, gasping whimpers from his parted lips.

“How?” Hawke growled, his curled lip inches from Anders’ face. Another thrust, driving his cock in deep until he saw Anders’ eyelids flutter and his lips part in a stuttering moan. “Like – this? Hard and – deep – until you’re screaming every time my cock slides into you?”

“Yeah,” Anders gasped. His breath hitched, and his toes curled against Hawke’s back.

“All night?” Hawke leaned in closer, and drew Anders’ lower lip between his teeth. He tugged gently until Anders moaned, then bit hard, earning a sharp yelp. “Until you beg? Until you’re so desperate to come that all – you can do…” he broke off with a groan, punctuating his words with rough, deep thrusts that left Anders gasping. “Is whimper.

He didn’t give Anders a chance to respond, kissing him hard as the mage’s broken gasp was stolen by the press of his lips. It was rough and messy, Anders’ sharp, urgent cries swept away by the sweep of Hawke’s tongue as he claimed his mouth, making Anders his with every nip and suck and guttural moan. He could taste the heat in the bruised flesh, feel the slick of Anders’ saliva on his skin and hear the raw edge in his moans as he held him down and fucked him. Every thrust, every sweep of tongue, every twist and pull at tangled blond hair, every time Anders’ wrists ground beneath his weight – Anders was his. Eager, pliant, and hungry for more.

“Please…” Anders’ voice was muffled by the dip and flicker of Hawke’s tongue between his lips, and Hawke’s low moan became a roar of pleasure as he drove his throbbing length into Anders’ stretched, slicked ass. “Pl...”

Hawke snarled, low and ragged as he forced Anders’ lips apart and kissed him hard and deep. He could feel him squirming – hips rocking as he struggled to thrust against Hawke’s skin. Hawke could feel his need – Anders’ teeth grazing his lips, Anders’ breath hot and roughened against his mouth as he arched against Hawke. He was pressed against Hawke at every point he could be, back arched and thighs shaking, and his thick cock slick and pulsing against Hawke’s stomach. Anders was perfect like this – loud, beautifully desperate, and Hawke’s.

Another thrust, another shaky moan from the mage pinned beneath him – and Hawke stopped again. Anders’ frustrated howl was lost in the heat of Hawke’s mouth, and he drew back slowly, feeling his thick shaft slide out of Anders inch by inch as Anders squirmed helplessly under him.

“Don’t…” Anders groaned as Hawke nipped his lower lip again. “You – tease… Maker, Garrett, don’t stop.”

“I’m not.” Hawke grinned, trailing his lips down Anders’ arched neck to bite and suck at the sensitive skin over his collarbone. Anders writhed, panting raggedly as Hawke left a trail of red marks he knew would be livid bruises by morning. “Just – taking my time.”

Fuck.” Anders’ hips jerked as Hawke’s cock slid out of him, and his moan was almost a sob. “Let me come…”

“I will.” Hawke kissed his way down Anders’ heaving chest, feeling the delicious way Anders’ wrists shifted beneath his palm as he shifted under him. “Screaming, shaking, with my come dripping down your thighs…”

“Maker, yes.”

Hawke straightened up onto his knees, dragging Anders with him with one arm around the mage’s narrow waist, the other still gripping his wrists. Anders gasped as he was pulled into Hawke’s lap, wiry calves slipping down over Hawke’s shoulders as his thighs were pushed apart. Hawke smirked wickedly, letting his hand drop to grip Anders’ ass as he gave a slow, teasing thrust between his slick, spread cheeks.

Anders threw back his head with a whimper, biting his lip. In the low light, Hawke could see the freckles on his pale skin, the beaded sweat trickling down his neck to dip into the hollow between his collarbones, and the stiffened peaks of his nipples, flushed and tempting. He kneaded his ass roughly, letting his fingertips drift to toy with Anders’ loosened entrance – hot and inviting and so sensitive. Anders panted, squirming in his lap as his thighs shook and his breath caught – high, quick gasps that made Hawke ache to be inside him again. He growled against his skin, letting his teeth graze over Anders’ neck in the way that made him writhe deliciously – then moved.

It was sudden – Hawke was quick when he wanted to be, elegant power in his muscular bulk as he flipped Anders over and pinned him effortlessly against the headboard by his wrists. Anders was left bent forward on his knees, shoulders straining, hair falling around his face. He arched his back, grinding his ass against Hawke’s rigid length as Hawke groped the soft flesh, panting obscenely against Anders’ ear.

Hawke bit Anders’ shoulder, groaning against the flushed skin. Anders’ breathless whine was the hottest sound he’d ever heard, setting fire to his nerves and coiling hot and tight at the base of his spine. He spread Anders’ ass with one hand, knocking his thighs apart with his knee as he dug his nails into his ass and kneaded roughly. Anders keened, thighs shaking as Hawke’s cock pressed firmly against his stretched hole.

“You want it?” Hawke growled.

“Maker, yes.”

Hawke looked down between their bodies, panting raggedly as he watched the slicked head of his cock push slowly into Anders. Anders’ ass was reddened from the grip of his hand and from the roughness of his thrusts, pale skin flushed prettily and scattered with freckles. Oil dampened the sparse, dark hair in the cleft of his ass and trickled over his balls, down the hard, heavy length of his cock hanging between his parted thighs. Hawke rolled his hips, thrusting shallowly into his entrance – the stretched, glistening rim hot and tight around his length as he sank into him. Anders’ hoarse gasps were lost in the thunder of Hawke’s own pulse, the shake in his breath, and the guttural snarl that rose in his throat as he buried himself in clenching, oiled heat.

Anders’ moans grew louder – desperate pleas for more scattered between needy whimpers as Hawke pounded into him. His thick shaft stretched Anders’ ass, fucking him open as he kneaded his ass and watched the soft, reddened skin ripple with every snap of his hips. Hawke bit his lip, head thrown back with a groan as aching heat built low in his belly, cock pulsing as he plunged into the warm slickness of Anders’ ass. He hunched over him, hard thrusts forcing Anders’ thighs wider, driving him down towards the mattress as he shuddered and arched beneath him. Anders pushed back against every thrust, driving himself onto Hawke’s cock with raw, eager cries.

He slid his hand up the mage’s back, sweat trickling along the ridges of scars, skin flushed and hot against his palm. He ran his nails up over his ribs, making him squirm, up onto the toned muscle of his shoulders and dug his fingers in, pulling sharply with every thrust to pull Anders onto his thick length. Anders whimpered, ass bouncing with every rock of Hawke’s hips, shaky cries almost drowned out by the loud slap of damp flesh and Hawke’s own rough grunts. Hawke slammed into him, toes curling at the way Anders’ breath caught and the slick, obscene sounds of his cock working him open, driving in deep as his heavy balls slapped against Anders’ ass.

“Yes,” Anders gasped. “Harder – Maker that’s…” He whimpered, high and needy, body jerked forward by the rough buck of Hawke’s hips. “Oh…”

“There?” Hawke dug his nails into Anders’ shoulder and gave a sharp thrust that drove the mage’s shuddering body higher up the bed. “Yeah?”

“Y-yeah…” Anders back arched and he threw back his head, hair falling back to show the high flush on his cheeks and his eyes wide and dark. He bit his lip on a shuddering keen, eyes fluttering half-closed in pleasure.

“Tell me what you want.” Hawke bent to kiss the raised bumps of Anders’ spine, feeling his shaky moans as his body bucked and arched under him.

“I…” Anders gasped, grinding back against Hawke as his cock plunged deep into him. “Come in me. Maker, Garrett – I want…” Hawke growled against his skin, and Anders whimpered. “I want to feel it.”

Hawke groaned, hips jerking in erratic thrusts as the ache inside him became pure, liquid pleasure. It scalded in his veins as he thrust deeper, harder, hand sliding from Anders’ shoulder up the straining arc of his throat to grip the rough, stubbled skin of his jaw and hold him tight. Anders’ eager moans spurred him on, and Hawke growled and panted over him, cock pounding into the perfect tightness of his body as he slid his fingers between the mage’s parted lips once more. Anders gagged on a moan, saliva sliding down Hawke’s wrist as he clamped his hand over the mage’s parted lips and forced his fingers deeper.

“Mngh – ah…” Anders’ words were lost against Hawke’s skin, tongue working, lips slack and drooling as Hawke fucked his mouth with two thick fingers. He fell forward over him, held up by one hand clamped over Anders’ wrists at the top of the headboard, forehead resting against the mage’s sweat-soaked back as he thrust down into his spread ass.

Sensation overwhelmed him. The twitching strokes of Anders’ tongue and the wetness on his fingers, the slick, filthy sounds of his thrusts, and the molten heat of Anders’ body engulfing his cock. Anders’ voice was muffled but desperate – sharp, needy whimpers captured by Hawke’s hand, cut with hoarse gags as his fingers plunged between the mage’s lips. Hawke lost himself in Anders’ body, in the sound of his voice and the feel of his smooth, heated skin. He dug his nails into his cheek, into his wrists, holding him in place as he thrust again – and again – losing all restraint as growled and panted raggedly against Anders’ skin. He buried himself in Anders’ tight entrance, cock pulsing as he rammed it deep, and felt the slick, heated spill of his seed coat his twitching length.

Somewhere in the moments that followed, Hawke’s grip loosened on Anders’ wrists. He felt more than heard Anders’ whimpering gasp at the loss of pressure, and his fingers slid free of the mage’s lips as he rolled off him to fall against the pillows, half-propped up against the headboard. Hawke’s chest was heaving, coarse chest hair drenched in sweat and clinging to his tanned skin as he let his head fall back with a groan. Anders followed, straddling his lap and curling his fingers in Hawke’s sweat-soaked hair as he kissed him hard.

Hawke smirked against Anders’ lips, tasting the raw urgency of his need. He ran his hands up Anders’ thighs, feeling the wiry muscle tense and shiver at his touch. Anders moaned against his tongue, lips parting for him as Hawke slid one arm around his waist and pulled him close. His cock jutted between his thighs, grinding against the softness of Hawke’s stomach as he squirmed in his arms, panting softly as Hawke nipped and sucked at the fullness of his lower lip.

“Want something?” Hawke murmured.

“Mm.” Anders pulled back panting, clinging to Hawke’s hair like a lifeline. He licked his lips, each breath shuddering on the edge of breaking into a moan. “Please.”

Hawke slipped one hand up Anders’ inner thigh, kneading at the toned muscle and soft skin until Anders’ hips bucked urgently. His fingers trailed higher, slipping into the cleft of Anders’ ass. He could feel the slick, sticky spill of his come smeared over warm skin, and as his fingers circled Anders’ entrance they were coated in the thick fluid. Anders moaned softly, hips rocking as he tried to drive himself down on Hawke’s fingers – and he could pull away, he could tease, but he wouldn’t for long. Hawke looked up into Anders’ eyes, dark honey glinting through his lashes, and thrust two fingers into him with a groan.

Anders’ grip in his hair tightened, lips parting softly and eyes half-closed as he rode Hawke’s hand. Hawke squeezed his hip for a moment, then slowly uncoiled his arm from around Anders’ waist to wrap his palm around the mage’s cock. It throbbed in his grip, slick with pre-come, flushed and twitching with Anders’ pounding heartbeat. Anders gasped, nails scuffing against Hawke’s scalp, and his narrow, elegant hips rocked urgently as he thrust against Hawke’s hand and ground down against his fingers. It wouldn’t – couldn’t – take long – Anders’ slender thighs shivered, his breath caught, and his shoulders shook as he writhed under Hawke’s skilled touch.

“That’s it, love,” Hawke murmured. He curled his fingers and Anders’ whimper became a hoarse scream, hips jerking and cock twitching in Hawke’s hand. He pumped his fist faster, feeling the mage unravelling with every stroke, and swept his thumb across the leaking head as his fingers rocked inside him. Anders cried out sharply, head falling back as he arched in Hawke’s lap, lost in the curling thrusts of Hawke’s fingers and the smooth, quick strokes of his hand.

The descending trails of Hawke’s come gleamed on Anders’ straining thighs, coating Hawke’s wrist as he plunged his fingers into his fucked-open entrance. The obscene slick heat made him groan, lip curling into a snarl as he slipped in a third finger and Anders moaned and thrust against his palm.

Anders’ body tightened, back arching, thighs taut and clamping down on Hawke’s hips as he threw his head back with a hoarse cry. Hawke felt his cock twitch in his hand, saw the shake in his tense stomach as his hips jerked helplessly. He pumped his fingers into him, kneading the tips over the spot that he knew made Anders moan, and whimper, and scream – and he did, a broken howl of Hawke’s name as he spilled over Hawke’s fingers. Hawke didn’t slow – fucking him with his fingers through the aftershocks of his climax as Anders’ come smeared over his stomach and the mage’s body writhed, flushed and glistening with sweat, in his lap.

They collapsed in a tangle of limbs, flushed and panting and utterly spent. Hawke dragged Anders’ body closer – as close as he could get – hot and damp and gasping in his arms as he swept the tangle of blond hair out of his face and kissed his forehead with an exhausted groan.

“Your wrists okay, love?” he asked eventually, as Anders’ ragged breathing slowed and his own pulse began to settle.

“Bruised,” Anders said, with a contented smile audible in his voice. “Just the right amount.”

“You want some ice or..?”

“Healer, remember?” Anders grinned and gently pushed Hawke onto his back, sprawled across his chest. “There are advantages to being a mage.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Hawke ran his fingers through Anders’ hair, chuckling as he felt Anders’ almost purr-like groan against his skin. He captured one of Anders’ hands, gently rubbing his thumb over the red marks left on pale skin, then brought it to his lips to kiss the bruised flesh. “Still going to fuss over you,” he said softly. “Doesn’t seem right, otherwise.”

“Fuss if you like.” Anders gave a quiet hum of pleasure as Hawke’s lips trailed over the inside of his wrist. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Too fucking right.”

Hawke chuckled against warm skin, lips trailing higher over Anders’ palm, inhaling the faint scent of elfroot on his fingers. It wasn’t quite comfort that wrapped Hawke’s lips around Anders’ fingertips, and he wasn’t sure it did much to sooth the bruises when he nipped at the joints and grazed his teeth over the sensitive pads – but it kept Anders here. Kept him squirming, panting, whimpering – free of thought and losing all restraint as Hawke pushed him back and claimed his lips again.