[ What does a man in his position—any man—even say to that? Not for the first time, Fenris finds himself hoping they don't come back around to hating each other again. Hawke had also been a mage; Hawke, whom he could've loved had her gaze not been turned elsewhere, and all the while Fenris had known this while also telling himself that Hawke was different. And it gives him the smallest sliver of hope: couldn't it be that Anders, after all this time, is different as well?
Or is it as he fears the most, and different is nothing more than shorthand, a superstitious phrase to justify loving a mage—
He cannot now. Not that thought.
Anders writhes wonderfully, a still-living feast. It's enough to make him show his hand at last, the abrupt withdrawal and clambering off the bed to rummage through his discarded pants no doubt disorienting and disappointing... until, that is, he's retrieved the prize he stole just after his bath and crawls back up the length of Anders's body with the long-necked bottle in hand—and the return pass includes a rather sudden and pointed nuzzle over Anders's balls, which is the only warning he gets before Fenris gives in to caprice and decides to swallow down his cock. He cannot pin his wrists from here, so he settles for his hips. Takes him down to the root and up and back again, treasuring the thickness in his throat, muscles challenged to hug the curve. A bit of oil leaks out from around the cork in the bottle's mouth and he lets it rest in the sheets against Anders's side for a second, slickened fingers going for a nipple somewhere above. Mouth full, throat full, chest full, Fenris groans joyously into Anders's warm lap. ]
oops i tripped and this happened
Or is it as he fears the most, and different is nothing more than shorthand, a superstitious phrase to justify loving a mage—
He cannot now. Not that thought.
Anders writhes wonderfully, a still-living feast. It's enough to make him show his hand at last, the abrupt withdrawal and clambering off the bed to rummage through his discarded pants no doubt disorienting and disappointing... until, that is, he's retrieved the prize he stole just after his bath and crawls back up the length of Anders's body with the long-necked bottle in hand—and the return pass includes a rather sudden and pointed nuzzle over Anders's balls, which is the only warning he gets before Fenris gives in to caprice and decides to swallow down his cock. He cannot pin his wrists from here, so he settles for his hips. Takes him down to the root and up and back again, treasuring the thickness in his throat, muscles challenged to hug the curve. A bit of oil leaks out from around the cork in the bottle's mouth and he lets it rest in the sheets against Anders's side for a second, slickened fingers going for a nipple somewhere above. Mouth full, throat full, chest full, Fenris groans joyously into Anders's warm lap. ]