justice_is_blond | Inbox for Fade Rift

Far colder than your bed.

[Now here's something that's promising, and it's a good distraction from what's to come in the days ahead.]

Snow, ice, and while I imagine I could curl up with the other mage in here, I'm not so certain he'd entirely appreciate it. A shame you're not out here.

If I were it'd be a good deal warmer and much more fun. Curling up with you at the end of a long day, sharing our bedroll leaving us so tightly entwined we can barely move for how close we are pressed to one another.

[ A thoughtful sigh, here, lingering and languid. ]

Mmmmm. A fine way to spend the night, that.

[And now the message starts to make sense, and Anders' voice warms as he finally finds a spot with decent, likely lasting, privacy.]

Very fine. One bedroll means a lot of... fitting together, and if it's the end of the day then we can take our time about it. Something languid, building. Our bodies together and nothing but time. I can almost smell the oil you use on your hair, and the leather you wear.

The clasp of your robe is not so difficult a thing to unfasten- ah. What are you wearing? The green with the gold edges and the sash that is looped so carelessly to one side that it might come loose with the proper tug-

Or the blue with the clasps that rest against your throat in the most teasing of ways?

[Fifty layers because it's freezing, Zevran.]

The green. The green, because I like the way people look at it and I can see them wonder how it hasn't come loose yet, or if it maybe has. It'll open easily if you tug, and I'd guide your hands in to show you that there's nothing underneath before taking a closer look at what you're wearing. I hope there are tight leggings; I enjoy the sight of them molded to your thighs.

Antivan leather leggings and that fitted, red shirt with the embroidery at the cuffs. And likely seven knives but we can ignore those for the moment, yes? I'm far too busy pulling your robes open to stroke your sides, nuzzling at your throat to bite a bruise there.

[Antivan leather, of course. The days when he knew the differences between leathers and silks are so far distant.]

I refuse to wonder how you've never accidentally stabbed a lover as I tilt my head back for your teeth and run my hands over your Antivan-leather-covered ass. Your hands feel light and nice on my sides, and start urging your shirt up to feel your bare chest against mine.

Mmm. I have to take a moment to take my hands off you before I peel it over my head but they return quickly to tug you into a firm kiss. I bite at your lips while I slide a thigh between yours, giving you something to grind against.

You're so warm, and I immediately slide my hands over your chest before pinching one of your nipples, hard. I'm shifting a moment later to put myself underneath you because I want to feel your weight on me. It's not enough, and I'm grinding against you eagerly and spreading my legs more.

[ There's a hitch to Zevran's breath, now, the rustling of fabric- his shirt? The sheets? Something as he does more or less what Anders has said. ]

So cruel to start so roughly, my friend. What if I should bruise? Would you kiss it better? I roll with you, settle over you- tilt your hips just so with a firm grip so we are grinding cock to cock together.

We both know that if you bruise I'll soothe the injury with my tongue, lavish it with attention.

[He's found a good spot, now, one not likely to be stumbled upon by patrols or anyone else, and his own hand drops down to rub a little.]

In fact, I'll kiss it better now. Pre-emptively. I'm a healer, after all, and my fingers are warm with creation magic as I toy with your other one. It's only fair, because your cock feels so good against mine.

Because you are a marvelous man- mmm.

[ Easier, now, to lick his palm and get down to it, hand starting slow, voice low and rough. ]

Too kind, Bello- I arch against you, hips rolling- [ He takes a stuttered breath, a low groan dragging past his lips. ]

And reach for the oil I have in my pack.

[The first squeeze of his cock has him making a quiet moan, but not so quiet that the crystal won't pick it up.]

Only as kind as you've been. You feel so good against me, knowing my body almost as well as I do. I'm canting my hips up when I see what you've got there. I want you, Zevran.

[He opens his robes and gets a hand down his pants, voice getting deeper.]

Badly enough to ask sweetly? Not that I will deny you, not when you're so warm, so eager-

[ He actually brings a vial of oil close to the crystal, allowing the sound of the cork popping free to be audible. ]

I will open you slowly, Mio Bello. It has been such a long time, has it not? No matter how you whine or strain you only get as much as I am willing to give- and I wish to take my time in this as I stroke you from within.

Please.

[For Zevran he's entirely willing to beg.]

Zevran, please. Don't tease...

[He doesn't have oil, which means the best he can do is tease his asshole before licking the palm of his other hand and starting to stroke in earnest.]

It's been so long that I need this. Need more of you, and your fantastic fingers. And I know you want me.

Just like that.

[ Moaning to make the shudder audible, Zevran slicks his own fingers- much as he is describing the opposite this? Will help them both. Stone braced against his chest he lets his hand slide down, tease and toy and slide in deep, bottom dropping out of his voice in a low groan. ]

Can you take two, Gattino? Are you ready for more? Are you grinding down against what I have given you, curled hard and pressed where you need it most?

Fuck.

[He can't just stroke himself to that, to Zevran's delicious noises and the change of his voice. It's time to resort back to hasty tricks learned in the Circle, sucking on fingers and slicking them like that before sliding one in and groaning. It's been so long, too long.]

Almost... almost.

[His voice is breathy, needy, words broken up with pants as he eases the second finger in.]

Two is so good. I have you inside me, I can feel, feel it down to my toes. Zevran... I'm arching up to kiss you, hands in your hair as I tangle our tongues together. I can't get enough of you.

Soon.

[ So soon but not soon enough, he has to shift his grip to brace his heels on the bed, voice going thick at the next sharp curl of his fingers, stroking himself harder still. ]

Soon, soon- it has been so long and two is not enough even for me, I do not wish to hurt you. [ Though it is less a problem now than it would be otherwise. ] But I take you all the same. In you, tip to root in one stroke, gasping against your mouth as I grind myself in as deep as I can go-

Oh.

[He knows how it feels to be taken in haste, the heavy burn and sharp stretch that comes from knowing the Templars will be near their hiding spot all too soon.]

It hurts, but it hurts good.

[His fingers start moving faster, pushed inside with more force, and Anders closes his eyes as he loses himself to the scene.]

I take you in and hold you close, feel your heart pounding with mine, shuddering at how much you fill me. It has been far too long and I can't be patient. I can't, and I rock my hips up, physically begging you to fuck me harder. My hands are on your hips and I'm pulling as if you could possibly be closer.

Deep breaths, Anders.

[ Deep, even breaths coiling around shuddering sighs, a hitch to the inhale that comes from crooking his fingers just so, lighting the world up behind his eyes with white heat. How much of this he could take without coming-

He fights that down, forcing himself to speak. ]

Let me hear you beg, Bello. Ask sweetly and you shall receive.

Anything you want.

[It's groaned out. Deep breaths are not the easiest to manage when he has one hand on his cock, the fingers of the other inside, and Zevran's voice and sounds filling his ears and mind.]

Anything, Zevran, but please, please. Give me your all. I need you.

[And he trusts the assassin to give it, to take him and handle him.]

You fill me so perfectly.

You, bent back, spread wide, and begging. Writhing under me as I fill you over and over, twisting so deep that you can feel me in the back of your throat-

[ His breath catches, here, as his own fingers twist and press in deep, ripping a moan from him that cracks the next word in half. ]

Unbearable.

Inbox for Fade Rift

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NSFW warning, whoops.

>.> whoops

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