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A little sin

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The hand in his hair is too tight, his skin still smeared with blood, breath coming hard and fast. 

The templar lies dead and the streets are in chaos and he couldn’t be happier because they’re alive, breathing against him their back to the hard wall, gold eyes flashing blue as Justice surges up, claiming his mouth in a messy game of who needs who more. 

There’s a growl from the smaller man as Hawke grabs him by the back of his thighs and lifts, ankles locking behind him, arms tight around his shoulders as he fucks his tongue into the heat of Justices’ mouth, groaning when Anders bites at his lower lip. 

The blondes cheeks are flushed when he pulls back, lips swollen and slick with spit, eyes blown wide and wild as they cling to him pulling him impossibly closer, clothes cocks grinding up the friction like liquid heat up his spine. 

“Please. Now.”

He presses his forehead against Anders at shivers at Justices’ demand, rolling his hips slowly trying to tame what he could of this as Anders writhes under him, nails clawing against armor. 

He chokes on a man when shaking fingers move into his vision and wiggle a bottle of slick at him, beyond thankful that one of them always seems to have an emergency supply, seeking grinning lips once more as he raises a hand, wiggling Anders robes up, fast and awkward, fingers slick and sure when they finally circle a clenching rim. 

Justice breathes out a low moan when Hawke fucks two fingers into him, body arching under the stretch and burn, skin crackling blue as he gives the man exactly what he needs, that bite of pain against his neck and crook of his fingers proving to them both that they’re alright, they’re alive. 

He presses closer as he works them open, grinding hard, moaning when clever fingers push between their bodies and work open his pants, clinking armor a reminder of where they are but finding himself uncaring as heat wraps about his cock, slicking him up, bottle hitting the floor with a mighty crash. 

He ducks his head, sucking a bruising mark over one glowing blue crack, moaning at the taste of magic on his tongue as he works three fingers deep, Justices’ breathy commands ringing in his ears. 

“Fuck us, Hawke. Now, I demand to feel it. We need too, hurry up!Hawke-”

The words slur to a whine when he pulls his hand away, grunting, panting heavy and skin sweat damp grabbing hard for pert ass cheeks as Anders releases his throbbing cock and braces himself on Hawks’ shoulders, head thrown back.

He’s so tight, clenching around him, pulling him in all slick and wet, his toes curling in his boots, breath catching at the feeling, crinning into Anders skin when Justice huffs and works his hips, pushing down, fucking himself imaptiently against his cock. 

It’s almost too much to fast, hips slamming up, balls slapping against their ass, grip bruising and breathing ragged, fucking into the puffy little hole, groaning out when Justice begins chanting his approval, Anders’ hiccuped praises butting through the words at his ear. 

His lovers cum, grabbing for his hair and pulling, crying out, streaking his armor with their release. He cums pressing kisses to their skin and whispering his thanks to the maker that they’re alright, swearing never to leave them in a fight again. The others be damned. 

Their hearts are wild in their chest when they come down, and the streets are full of screams and please but they take a moment, just a moment to run their hands over each other, kisses sweet, worried. 

It’s over too soon and they’re running back to battle flushed and hurried but Hawke never leaves Anders sides, duel blades cutting a path through any who dare try for the mage and enemies alight with fire if they come to close to harming the rogue. 

Justices’ light burns bright as he protects them both.