justice_is_blond | Inbox for Fade Rift

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.

He's fought so long and hard for freedom, and somehow, being called Nate's is just as freeing. The man's pendant is around his neck and ring is on his finger, and Anders feels free.

"Yours," he echoes, grinding into that hand and shuddering. The fact that he's getting close likely shows in his breathing and the way liquid is welling up at the tip of his cock. "Forever yours, my husband." And Nate was his, this gorgeous, caring, compassionate man who had already seen Anders at absolute worst and stayed with him. He would never be alone again.

Another rock of his hips and then he's bending forward, muscles clenching throughout his body as he releases.

They have been together enough that Nathaniel knows when Anders is getting close. He sees it and begins to move his hips, move inside with deep, strong thrusts, and he comes almost simultaneously with Anders. Before he is completely spent, he sits up and throws his arms around his husband, carrying him as he falls back because he wants Anders in his arms the moment he has his metahorical feet on the ground. And he does.

It's some time before he catches his breath, coming down slowly and rubbing Anders' back as he does so. Anders was right. It was special.

"Maker, you're incredible," he groans when he can.

He burrows close, hand between them so he can feel their heartbeats together. He doesn't move away or shift as he's held. Why would he? He's comfortable and loved and happy. Sure, they need to clean up, but they have time. They have so much time.

Nate's words get a chuckle and a kiss to the side of his neck.

"Mm. I am, aren't I." That's one thing he's never doubted about himself, his abilities in bed. "But so are you, love." A second kiss follows the second, this one in the hollow of Nate's throat. "I'll never tire of how you start fucking me harder when I'm nearly there, just to join me, or the way you hold me, or kiss me, or so many other things." He can be very happy just sleeping with this man for the rest of his life.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Nathaniel murmurs against Anders' hair, feeling warm and happier than he ever has. "With all my heart. And the rest of me as well."

And this is nice, allowing Anders to explore and give affection in the afterglow. After a moment, he laughs suddenly.

"And now we've consummated our marriage, so you're stuck with me forever."

Anders snorts, snuggling close.

"I'm fairly certain you've got that backwards. You're stuck with me forever. Consummation has nothing to do with it, aside from being a happy bonus. You made a vow, and you're the most honorable man I know." He pulls away just enough to beam at Nate. "The most honorable, humbling, awe-inspiring person I know. You'll never be rid of me."

There's a beat, and then his beam turns into a grin. "You can mark me, you know. Everyone knows I'm yours, but then they can see it all of tomorrow and perhaps longer."

"Is that right?" A smile against Anders' hair, and then he sits them both up, Anders still on his lap, arms circling Anders' waist. "We can't have anyone forgetting, can we?"

He chooses a spot on that pale neck to capture with his teeth before he begins to suck and worry at it. He loves to mark Anders. It's part of his jealous nature, perhaps, if a happier way of expressing it than actually getting jealous.

Edited 2017-03-07 17:28 (UTC)

He makes a hoarse, hungry noise as Nate finds a spot, shivering while Nate works at it. He loves being marked. There's something about someone finding him that desirable that they want it known he's with them, he's been with him, along with the freedom he has to be in a relationship.

"Yes," he whispers, hands going up to tangle in Nate's hair and hold him close, encourage him to keep going. "Maker, yes. I'll never want to forget, no one else should either."

A chuckle, then. "Not like we give them much opportunity to. But I'm not about to change that, love. I'm happy."

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