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[justice_is_blond]

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[justice_is_blond]

"Oh." Right there, and they both know Nate's found the right spot.

"I wish I could touch you, love. Thread my fingers through your lovely hair," does lovely count? It should, in his opinion, "kiss your lips and make it clear how much I love you, Nate." The worlds are spilled out hastily, breathily. Just as good as the thrusts are the anticipation of Nate reacting to the words.

[pinprick]

"But then I couldn't see you stretched out and helpless. Vulnerable for my eyes only, with my word alone holding you here." Oh, Anders feels so good from the inside. Nathaniel thinks there must have been a great emptiness in his life before he loved Anders, before Clarel's madness and the Inquisition. Not born of a lack of love, but of a lack of Anders. A life without this man, this personality, this perfection. He kisses him as if he can drink him deeper that way, as if he can be more fully a part of him, and make up for the deficit of his life before Anders.

[justice_is_blond]

The way Nate kisses him, as if he's desperate for Anders even with the mage right here, with him, is intoxicating. Anders moans into the kiss, yearning and loving. Until Nate, he'd never had sex with love involved. Now he can't get enough, and it makes the word 'helpless' something he can skip over mentally. Being vulnerable for Nate alone is something he wants, though, something he enjoys.

His tongue tangles with Nate's and the moan deepens to a groan. He's loved by this magnificent man. He's absolutely loved and he belongs here.

"Stretched out for you, however you want me," he breathes out when the kiss is broken. A moment later he's grinning and craning his neck to steal a soft kiss. "Howe ever. Howe, I love you. Ravish me, please."