[ Especially without the confinement of smallclothes, the loose linen of his trousers does absolutely nothing to hide his prick rudely nudging against any part of Anders it feasibly can. Before he even knows it, Fenris is rocking up into the delicious weight of Anders's straddle, both hands planting on the highest point of his spread thighs, fingertips curling into the warmed waistband. It's dark, but elves see well at night and it's entirely possible that Anders can see the excited cat's glitter of his eyes on the pillow below.
All the while Fenris keeps expecting this to disintegrate into the desperate hysteria of the Circle dormitory. It's still desperate, in its way, but the simmer of indulgent sensuality lurking just beneath the surface of their actions bewilders and overwhelms, everything between them slower and softer and kinder than expected. Of course, Fenris knows exactly what it is to do something for no other reason than that for the first time, he can.
Is that all? It could very well be. Or maybe gratitude, Fenris wonders, with a pass of his tongue over Anders's sternum and its unfamiliar fine dusting of hair. He growls into his skin. Squeezes his arse. He knows this dance well enough by now, knows how hot and velvety Anders feels sliding through his grip, but their greatest intimacy up to this point was the time or two that, weak yet wanting, he offered Anders his thighs. ]
Kaffas.
[ Hard even for him to tell if it's a laugh or a faint sob, but it's all disbelief. ]
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branchandroot
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Date: 2015-03-09 09:31 pm (UTC)All the while Fenris keeps expecting this to disintegrate into the desperate hysteria of the Circle dormitory. It's still desperate, in its way, but the simmer of indulgent sensuality lurking just beneath the surface of their actions bewilders and overwhelms, everything between them slower and softer and kinder than expected. Of course, Fenris knows exactly what it is to do something for no other reason than that for the first time, he can.
Is that all? It could very well be. Or maybe gratitude, Fenris wonders, with a pass of his tongue over Anders's sternum and its unfamiliar fine dusting of hair. He growls into his skin. Squeezes his arse. He knows this dance well enough by now, knows how hot and velvety Anders feels sliding through his grip, but their greatest intimacy up to this point was the time or two that, weak yet wanting, he offered Anders his thighs. ]
Kaffas.
[ Hard even for him to tell if it's a laugh or a faint sob, but it's all disbelief. ]