[His fingers spread wide against Fenris's stomach, drawing him back, closer, even with them already flush back-to-front. He feels— raw, desperate for something he can't put a name to, something he's suddenly sure will slip through his fingers if Fenris pulls away from him now. Exhaustion vibrates through him, obvious through the way his chin dips slightly against Fenris's temple, but his hands are steady and firm. Even if this is only temporary, he wants to hold on to it, whatever "this" might be.
He listens, quiet, for a long moment.
He doesn't think about it. His hand slips down, then lower. He palms Fenris through thin fabric, the heel of his hand dragging down the length of him, smooth and unhurried. It could almost be a soothing motion, touch meant to break through the haze. Anders doesn't have much else left to give.]
Then that's a burden the both of us have to carry.
[A murmured admission, barely a breath against his ear. He should be dead. He even wants it again, more badly than anything, but he's still here, alive, and he knows he can't blame that on himself.]
no subject
He listens, quiet, for a long moment.
He doesn't think about it. His hand slips down, then lower. He palms Fenris through thin fabric, the heel of his hand dragging down the length of him, smooth and unhurried. It could almost be a soothing motion, touch meant to break through the haze. Anders doesn't have much else left to give.]
Then that's a burden the both of us have to carry.
[A murmured admission, barely a breath against his ear. He should be dead. He even wants it again, more badly than anything, but he's still here, alive, and he knows he can't blame that on himself.]