justice_is_blond | Inbox for Fade Rift

It's lovely, saying good-night and leaving the party to continue behind them. Nathaniel takes his husband's hand as they stroll toward their tent. The crescent moon is waning, but the sky is clear and the stars are bright. The light hits the snow and breaks into shimmering crystal over its surface. It's clean and bright, the purple shadow of the mountains and the black of the sky, the white of the stars and the blue of the snow. As they leave the noise behind, the whole of it belongs to them alone, two wayfarers alone in a sight out of heaven.

They have a tent with vertical walls now, atop a wooden frame with a fireproofed wooden chimney. Nathaniel holds the flap open, his hand clasping Anders' as he steps over the frame and enters, and he hesitates a moment, breathing the cold, taking energy from the stars. Then he follows close behind and ties the flaps shut. The fire is already built; it only needs flame, preferably from a mage, or else it will take some time before they can get around to enjoying themselves.

It's beautiful out, stars and snow and even more importantly, Nate beside him. While happiness is the main thing he's feeling, there's also a little uncharacteristic nervousness. This is his husband, the man he's going to share the rest of his life with. It's surreal.

He steps inside and lights the fire promptly, turning to face Nate and give him a small smile that may betray the bizarre twinge of nerves he's feeling.

"Hello, my husband." The air is starting to warm a little already, and Anders reaches for Nate to pull him closer to himself and the growing fire.

Nathaniel's hands move to Anders' waist, and he smiles. Anders had looked radiant under the stars, but this light suits him better. Anders is not cold and white like starlight. In here, the fire casts seams of copper in golden hair, and shines in the depths of amber eyes. Skin that is pale under daylight is faintly bronze now, and Nathaniel will take the greatest of pleasure in unwrapping each inch of it until this golden god of a man is bare and glimmering in the firelight.

"My husband," he names him, and leans in to take a kiss from his lips.

Nate looks at him like he's never seen someone before, like Anders is the most amazing thing he's ever seen, and Anders melts into his touch. He's loved, absolutely loved, and he loves back in return.

The kiss is slow and warm and perfect, the taste of wine lingering on Nate's lips. Anders hums, pleased, reaching up to brush some of Nate's hair that's fallen loose back. The man is equally warm against him, all muscles and angles and the delicious scent that is Nate.

"I didn't think I could love you more," he murmurs against his lips, "but you fill my heart in the most impossible ways." His smile turns a little mischievous as he pulls back slightly, looking Nate over. "And you fill me in slightly more possible ones."

It's his wedding night. If ever there was a time for innuendo, now is it.

That glimmer of lust in Nathaniel's eyes sparks into flame, but he does not hurry. Gently, so gently, his hands cup Anders' jaw and bring him back into the kiss, flash of tongue, soft and hot and slick. Then, he begins to unwrap his wedding present.

Fingers catch the top fastening of those beautiful robes. He likes frogs better than ties, because it takes so little to undo them. Slowly, he is exposing a line of skin, and it becomes increasingly clear that--

A wicked smile. "You're not wearing anything under this, are you?"

He grins in answer.

"Of course not." Normally it's too cold to go without, but he's been flying high on emotions and anticipation all day. He hasn't had time to think about the cold. "You look so formal and proper. I had to be improper to balance it."

It's tempting to shimmy his way out of his robes, but it looks like Nate is enjoying undressing him and he enjoys that too. Instead, he starts to work on the leather straps that hold Nate's breastplate in place, kissing the cloth over Nate's heart once it's off.

"Or maybe it's because you have so many fasteners I thought I'd go with far fewer. I'll practically need an expedition to get past these, which I think is why so many Wardens look cross. They know the effort it will take to get laid in these. The good news is that you're entirely worth it."

"And we have two pairs of hands." The next fastening, and then the next, and that line of skin is down to Anders' navel. Nathaniel wants to kiss it all the way down, so he begins to do so. One warm, burning kiss at his jaw, followed by a taste, and he moves down Anders' throat. Clavicle. Sternum. He pauses to shrug off his gambeson, and is now in mere shirtsleeves and trousers by the time his hands are at Anders' groin. Perfect timing. He sinks to his knees and presses a kiss to that navel, slipping his tongue inside, then...pauses, pressing his cheek against Anders' abdomen as his arms wind around his legs and he holds him close, cherishing the moment before it passes.

He stops messing with Nate's clothing as he's kissed down, letting himself simply enjoy the heated kisses and attention, shivering at the slip of tongue. When Nate pauses, he rests his hands on his head, gently stroking through the long, dark hair.

"How I love you," Anders whispers. "And how you love me, my love." This is unaccountably nice, being held and reminded of just how much he means to Nate. Anders is used to being wanted sexually, has even used it as a distraction from whatever was going on, but this is leaps and bounds beyond that. He's treasured.

After letting the moment linger and lengthen, Anders shifts to untie Nate's shirtsleeves and get them started on slipping off. Nate's back is bare and beautiful before him, illuminated by the fire and just out of reach. He's made so many mistakes over the span of his life thus far, but this, this he can say was the best possible choice and best possible thing.

Nathaniel lifts his arms to allow the shift to be lifted over his head. When it has been cast aside, he returns his hands to the fastenings of Anders' robe and undoes the last few. The robe drifts open, revealing a proud and elegant cock. Nathaniel kisses just above its base.

"How I love you, my love," he whispers against golden skin, before bracing one hand on Anders' ass while the other takes his cock in hand and guides it into his mouth. He sucks the tip gently, wetly, before sinking forward to take the rest inside.

His breathing speeds up even before Nate's handling his cock, swallowing at the breath hitting it. While he has to use one hand to brace himself against the wall, the other goes right back down to Nate's head to play with his hair.

"Oh, please." It always feels good to have Nate's mouth around him, but this feels special. "You're so gorgeous." Watching his cock slide past Nate's lips adds to the sensation, already heightened by the sentiment of tonight.

"I'm gonna, going to take you in, just like that." He thrusts lightly past Nate's lips, feeling the light scrape of Nate's tongue along his length.

It makes Nathaniel's breath speed up, his hand tightening on Anders' ass. His jaw relaxes, and he breathes out, taking Anders in as far as he can. Deep, heat, slick, lick, salt on his tongue, his hand wrinkling the fabric of the robe as he squeezes warm flesh. Intensity isn't what he's going for, only a slow stoking of desire.

This is his first time making love to his spouse. He is going to make it special.

Anders' fingers tangle in his hair, black and silver and stark against pale golden fingers. His tongue flattens, scrapes, strokes as he sucks gently. But it's not his mouth he is really paying attention to; rather, the sounds coming from Anders, changes in his breathing and whimpers and moans. That's how he will know he is doing well, and it's how he will know when to move on.

Soon, the grip through fabric doesn't feel right. Nathaniel releases Anders' ass, only to slide that hand up his leg, over downy hair and warm skin, grazing his nails over a firm mound before sliding between two perfect cheeks and grazing his entrance. The next touch has pressure behind it, enough to slide the finger inside as deep as it will go.

And there are noises aplenty as he sucks; Anders is noisy when he's not holding back and he has every reason to not hold back tonight. By the time Nate's hand is moving under his robes, Anders is panting. That makes the catch of his breath at fingers between his cheeks all the more audible.

Before he can beg, the finger is going in. The plea on his lips changes to a moan as Nate enters him. Anders groans a profanity as his fingers tighten in Nate's hair.

"I'm going to, to need the bed soon, love. You're making my knees weak. And then I can spread for you, open up for you."

You're making my knees weak, spoken sincerely, is one of the prettiest things Nathaniel has ever heard. He grinds his finger deep, then releases Anders' cock from his mouth, his own throbbing hard between his legs. His finger slides out, leaving that tight heat that will soon be around his cock. A kiss is pressed to Anders' belly.

"We can't have that. I need those knees strong so you can ride me. If that's what you want."

He looks up at Anders, his hands grazing bare hips.

"Do you want to ride me? Or do you want anything...different? Special?"

The loss of Nate's mouth and finger leave him feeling a little cold and Anders shivers, reaching down to trace Nate's cheek and jaw.

"Yes," he says before chuckling. "Yes, I want to ride you, and yes I want to do something special." Anders casts, then, letting just a little lightning trail down the archer's neck. "I want to use magic on you, as I ride your cock. Lightning, fire, ice, creation. May I?"

Nathaniel trusts Anders so much as to bare his throat to his lightning without flinching.

"Yes," he breathes. He stands and unfastens his trousers, letting them drop to his ankles before stepping out of them and taking Anders' hand to tug him toward the bed. He settles down, black hair on white sheets, and watches Anders motions as they assume the familiar position.

Anders follows slowly, filling his eyes with the familiar, beloved sight of Nate's body before leaning in for a deep kiss. He's absolutely trusted here in this tent rather than feared and it makes him feel so very free. During the kiss he shifts, moving to straddle Nate's hips and grind down slowly.

Then he's sitting up and stretching out, making a deliberate show of shedding his robe and baring himself completely with a little smirk playing on his lips. He's ridiculously pretty, after all. He might as well show it off.

"Slick yourself for me, love? And guide your cock into position? I want to feel you pressing there before I clench and then take you in."

The salve was placed in an easy-to-reach location earlier today. Nathaniel takes a pinch and slicks himself, moaning softly at his own touch and the sight of Anders poised above him, ready to take him in. He guides the head to Anders' entrance and shudders at the anticipation of being sheathed in his husband. He is taking his spouse. He is married to this gorgeous, kind, gifted, tender-hearted man.

He watches Nate's face hungrily as his partner gets in position, clenching tight so that he can take Nate easily in a few moments here.

"You're so gorgeous, love. I've always seen it, but I'm the only lucky one who gets to see all of it." He trails ice-coated fingers from Nate's neck down to his chest. Anders' muscles relax and he sinks down, taking Nate in with a groan and hoping the contrast of cold from his fingers and warmth from inside is having its intended effect.

There's a pitched gasp, Nathaniel hot and cold at once, feeling velvet warmth around and yet cold that almost hurts, the contrast intensifying everything he feels. His chest heaves, his back arches, he feels it as he never has before--it turns out, Anders still has some surprises left to show him.

"Anders," he groans, hips rolling, moving deeper inside his husband, every inch feeling like a mile.

The reaction is all the reward Anders could ever want, shuddering as Nate surges into him.

"Nathaniel," he whispers back before bending and kissing his husband's chin and nose, beaming happily all the while. "Congratulations, you've married a mage."

He switches to fire and traces warmed fingertips along the spots he'd touched with the cold. There's no need to let the cold linger. That's followed by a slow rock of his hips, feeling the thick length of his beloved inside him.

"I think... I think I want you to ask for what you'd like next, which of the four I named you want applied to a nipple."

The rock of Anders' hips is electrifying. Nathaniel moans softly at the feeling, the rub and clutch and grasp.

"Creation," he gasps. Creation is like the best of fire and ice together, life energy itself with little discomfort. At least, it gives Nathaniel little discomfort, as accustomed as he has become to having it in his chest on those long days when he is in pain.

He continues to rock, savoring the way Nate feels inside him. There's just the right amount of pressure on his prostate every time he shifts more to the back, causing him to keep pausing there between each roll of his hips. Nate's answer focuses him past his own pleasure and he promptly rewards his husband with creation magic warming a nipple that he rolls between his fingers.

Anders rocks back again, stifling a groan as he bends forward to kiss Nate and pinch at the same time. "Perks of marrying a mage," he says with a breathy laugh. His cock is hard between them, and a shift of his hips like this lets him grind it against Nate's stomach.

That touch causes another, less voluntary roll of Nathaniel's hips and a louder moan. His back arches toward that touch and his hands grip both sides of Anders' ass now, not guiding so much as holding, since Anders knows very much what he is doing and it's best not to get in his way.

"A perk," he gasps. "Not...not counting the mage himself."

"That's a given." There's confidence in the way he says it. Nate chose to marry him meaning he's absolutely sure about this, which is yet another source for Anders to draw strength from.

He switches which hand he's using for support so the other nipple isn't left neglected, and this one he treats with the lightning again. Nate alone gets the sparklefingers now, and Anders is gaining, not losing.

"Meet me. Hard," he whispers before sitting back up and starting to rock in earnest, letting the heat gather and build in his groin as he looks down at his beautiful, magnificent husband.

"Oh." His back arches again, and then his hips start moving with the rocking motion, lost in sensation. Every time, he tries to thrust harder, leveraging against their mattress, feeling like everything is new now that he is married to this beautiful person. Lightning setting his teeth on edge, everything so sensitive and perfect. A hand rises to trap Anders' cock against his body, bringing friction with every motion, and Nathaniel cannot look away from amber eyes as pure as sunset.

"My...mine," he growls lowly, hands squeezing that ass without forcing its movements. Anders knows what he is doing.

Wedding Night

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject