pinprick | Fade Rift: Inbox

You know what to do.

And that ends it. Nathaniel can't be angry when Anders looks like that. He moves in and wraps his arms around him as tight as he can.

Some things aren't Anders' fault. That he still has this reaction every time it's between him and a Templar, it only means Nathaniel has to speak that much louder.

"I told that boy what Meredith did that night," he says softly. "I told him she was the reason I had to put my sister and my nephew on a boat before I went to help. I told the Knight-Commander that he was a fool for thinking the Inquisition would come down fairly, and that he had risked your life making his empty threats. I told them you've been nothing but mature and forthcoming about all of this. You even told us that the boy only threatened to kill you if you touched him. All of this, this trying to be fair, it was for you. If I was fair and halfway impartial, it would show I wasn't clouded by sentiment. And now it's over. It's done, and neither of you has to deal with the other again. And nobody can say we didn't deal with it fairly and decisively. Nobody has any excuse to reopen the case just so they can get to you. It's done."

He leans against Nate, forehead pressed to his neck, listening now and trying to breathe. It's done. Nate did that to protect him, not to hurt him, and it's complete. He won't have to deal with Cade again, and there's a fair chance Norrington will never approach him again. The latter might be a loss except for what had just happened.

For many moments Anders simply clings to Nate, letting things be silent and breathing while he tries to work through his emotions.

"I'm sorry," he finally says. "I should have kept listening." He should have trusted, like he keeps telling Nate he does.

"I said it so they would leave you alone, not so you would listen." Nathaniel's lips press against that beautiful hair. "I can explain anything you didn't hear. I'll never ask you not to question or think for yourself. But I'll never ask you to take me at my word, either. If you feel I've done you wrong, I want you to tell me. I want to be answerable to you and none other."

"I feel too much sometimes. I wish I knew how to control it instead of shutting down. I could, once." He could use jokes to get away from it all before. Was it that possession had left him more shattered? Or was it just that he'd spent so much time not having to think or cope because Justice would cover for him that he wound up out of practice?

Nate shouldn't have to carry the weight of Anders' failure. But he does, because he loves Anders and Anders needs to remember that.

"You didn't do me wrong. I was hasty and putting my hangups on you. I'm not good at relationships. Or people." Or trust, or even just functioning sometimes.

"You're better than you think you are," Nathaniel says with a smile. "You feel so much because you have been through so much. But those feelings come and go for everyone. Letting it pass along after it's done its job is difficult for anyone. And I think I'm good at making you feel better. I actually enjoy it."

He leans in for a kiss.

"What do you say? We could go back to our tent. I could suck you off and then we could have a cuddle and a nap."

He's gotten better than he had been, at least. He's still not sure he's better enough to be worthy of Nate smiling at him, but he'll take it quietly and keep trying to work on it. However one works on it.

"Mm." He smiles faintly into the kiss. "I say that sounds excellent." Especially the cuddle part. Physical contact is a need right now, not merely a want; it's the only way to chase away the lingering echoes from the past that the encounter brought up. Anders squeezes Nate, yet again memorizing the feel of the archer against himself, before he releases him enough so they can walk toward their tent.

"The Kestral House is a nice amenity, but I like having our own place better." The walls had made him feel a little more secure, but they'd also felt a little claustrophobic at times. Now he has a space that's just him and Nate. And Purrelden and Lady.

"So do I. It's private and warm. Everything we need it to be. It feels like we're a proper married couple. Very grown-up."

They arrive at the tent. Nathaniel heads in and lights the fire, which is a prerequisite to any kind of marital activity. Once the temperature has gone up a bit, he turns to take Anders by the hips and kiss his brow.

"Get comfortable."

Being a grown-up has never been a question for him, not having to be on the run at an early age. But having a space that belongs to him and his love? That's what he gets from this tent, and that's what he treasures.

"Personally I prefer being improper." The joke's quiet, but it's a joke nonetheless as he breathes and deals with the loss of Nate against him. Opening his robes up and loosening the laces of his pants at least keep his hands busy before they can be on Nate again, smoothing up the archer's strong arms.

"You're touching me. I'm comfortable." He gives Nate a small smile and sits down on the bed slowly so he can still maintain contact. One hand leaves Nate so he can grab a pillow and drop it to the floor between his feet as he spreads his legs. "Your touch always comforts me."

"That is mutual," Nathaniel says, because it is important to say these things. To remind Anders that Nathaniel is happy as well, that Nathaniel needs him. Anders is as much a Nathaniel-whisperer as the reverse. He kneels down on the pillow and runs his hands up and down Anders' thighs before opening his trousers and pulling out his cock. He caresses the length with his fingertips first, gentle and precise, knowing exactly what feels best to the body he knows so well, has spent nearly a year exploring. He lets Anders settle and relax, allows time for him to become aroused.

"Touching and holding you, it grounds me. It makes me feel loved. Maybe you don't always see how much I need you because whenever you're with me, I'm calm. I have everything I need. I can't...you've never let me feel anything but loved. You never make a secret of how you feel. You can't help but show it. And that I have the honor to comfort you, that is how I give it back."

Nate always knows what he needs. Anders needs to know he's not taking and taking without giving something back in return, because he loves Nate and is afraid of doing that to him.

"You complement me. ...And I complement you." That feels healthy. He likes something that feels healthy, just as much as he likes the feel of Nate's hand on his cock. Anders closes his eyes for a moment, relaxing and simply enjoying the knowing touch.

"I love you, Nate." The archer's right. Anders can't help but show how he feels, and he's so glad to have a place where he's safe to show it. "I'm so glad we found each other again." His cock is waking up in Nate's hand, whole body warming, and Anders opens his eyes again to meet Nate's beautiful grey ones. He reaches down to brush Nate's hair back. They make each other feel loved, even after he's let his fears flare up again.

Nathaniel smiles in that way that wrinkles his mouth and eyes. Not an elegant, courtly smile, but a smile that few people ever get to see on him.

"I love you, Anders. I never thought I would ever fall in love or be this...unafraid about it. I thought if I ever got married, it would be the hardest thing I would ever do. But this was the easiest decision of my life."

When Anders' cock stiffens, Nathaniel finally wets his lips, curls them over his teeth, and takes the head into his mouth. He licks along the opening before ducking forward, taking him in slowly.

That smile is his favorite. It brightens everything and has him smiling fully right back, ghosts from earlier finally vanquished. Despite everything, Nate had found him easy to marry, easy to vow to be with for the rest of their lives.

"You are my light," he breathes as Nate wets his lips, eyes intent as Nate takes him into his mouth. This man has chased away his demons, literally and figuratively. How could he have doubted him?

The slow slide of mouth over cock draws a groan from him. It's perfect.

"Taking your time, are you?" Anders teases, feeling so much better. "Enjoying yourself? I certainly am." He rubs Nate's temples in gentle circles, massaging his scalp.

Soon, Anders is in to the root, and Nathaniel's tongue works him for a moment before his head begins bobbing up and down. It's something of a trick; Anders, like most men, is longer when aroused, so Nathaniel must adjust a bit as he goes on. Still, he enjoys him very much, though he isn't really aroused at all himself. There's more to this than sexual gratification. It's intimacy and a show of affection. One of many expressions of love Nathaniel has learned from this man. Those fingers are in his hair and massaging his scalp, and Nathaniel feels pinpricks along his back from it. There is trust and understanding, a sharing of bodies transcending any sense of self-preservation. No, Nathaniel does not need sexual pleasure in order to love this.

"You take such good care of me," he says breathily. His hands are trembling a little as he rubs, building pleasure and the effort of holding his hips still.

"You're a gift, love, a treasure. My treasure." The building heat in his core has nothing on how this warms his heart. Nate loves him. He's in the hands (and mouth) of someone who absolutely loves him and supports him. Anders owes Nate more faith than he's shown today. He'll do better. He'll be better, because this man deserves everything.

Anders casts Creation, spreading gentle warmth from his fingers as he rubs.

"You are my everything."

Nathaniel loves the feeling of Creation magic. It causes pinpricks without being either hot or cold, the warmth existing only in himself and Anders' fingers. Blood runs faster, everything feels more sensitive. And Creation is what Anders does best. So Nathaniel tries (clumsily, he feels) to repay in something he has skill in, though it is no magic. But those words Anders speaks to him are as nurturing and gratifying to him as touch. Anders has never taken from him without giving just as much back to him. Nathaniel has never felt unloved or unwanted, not for a moment since they began their relationship. He needs those words, as well, not simply gestures to be interpreted. He needs Anders to put nails in his imagination, the lingering voice of his mother and the inaction of his father. He needs Anders to be explicit, and Anders is. Even when he isn't asked.

He moans softly with just the head of Anders in his mouth, then sinks down to take him all the way in. He counters the sensation with a hard suck as he comes back up.

His fingers clench, tangling a little in Nate's hair at the vibrations of the moan and the follow up warmth and suction.

"Oh, my love." Words are getting a little more complicated with the mix of sensation and sight. All of this, all of the ways Nate shows how he loves him, makes him continue to feel like the absolute luckiest person in all of Thedas. For Anders this does just as much as what's going on around his cock, and he's getting close to the edge as he resumes the massage, adding a hint of nails.

"I'm, I'm going to cuddle you better than you've ever been cuddled before."

"Mm," answers Nathaniel, his tongue firm against the underside of Anders' cock. He's looking forward to a good cuddle, the weight of Anders in his arms, the smell of his hair in his nostrils. Cuddles are the best times of his life now, he thinks. Those pinpricks from the creation magic are spreading down his neck and arms and shoulders. Everything tingles and relaxes. He can feel the heat and hardness in Anders' cock and knows he is close. He continues to build, one hand going beneath Anders' balls to cup and massage them gently, the weight of them against his palm providing friction.

"Fuck." Nate's palm is so warm, so careful, and Anders feels bliss envelope his mind as he stiffens and releases, groaning, into Nate's mouth. "Fuck," he says again when he's caught his breath, as every joint in his body suddenly feels warm and loose. Frantic, tucked-in-a-hidden-corner sex has nothing on this - nothing on the physical aspect, nothing on the intimacy.

"And I thought I was good," he mumbles, fingers blindly smoothing through Nate's hair. "Come up here to my arms, love."

Nathaniel swallows--it took him practice, a time ago, to swallow instead of spit, but these days he doesn't even think about it. It's cleaner, he eventually decided. He makes sure Anders is good and spent before gently tucking him back away and rising, surging into Anders' arms. He covers him with his body, rolling over him to lie on the far side of the bed and pulling him tightly into his arms.

Now, in these times when the only gratification is each others' company and affection, they reaffirm those things they spoke in passion. They let each other know they meant every word of it.

A low chuckle. "You are good," he says affectionately. "No doubt you will prove it, later. Possibly in waking me up from our nap."

He exhales, happy, burrowing into Nate's arms and wrapping his own around the archer. From time to time in his life he's had short moments where he thought he might belong, might fit in and be welcome. Here he knows. He belongs with Nate, at his side, his back, in his life. There's nowhere else he'd rather be, and he'd be an idiot if there was.

These moments are his most precious ones, the ones he mentally goes through and treasures all over again after the all-too-frequent moments of judgment and hatred he runs into around Skyhold.

"Would you like that?" he asks against Nate's neck. While he's often fantasized about waking up to Nate having his way with him, or waking up Nate with it, there's the issue of making sure it's what the other wants. "Would you like to wake up with my lips wrapped around your cock? Or, perhaps, you want me to prep myself while you sleep, wake up to find yourself inside me? Anything you ask of me, my love, you'll have."

"Mm." Both pictures are magnificent, but Nathaniel imagines them in specific ways. "If you wake up first, I want you to wake me up with your lips around me. If I wake up first, I would want to wake you up by sliding inside you, rocking gently so that what wakes you isn't the motion--it's the wakening of your blood and body to pleasure you can't quite source until you are fully awake. Or perhaps, if you feel like something different, that is how I will wake up."

Edited Date: 2017-03-24 12:22 am (UTC)

"Oh." He shivers at the mental pictures. They're all beautiful, but the third is something of a dare as well and he likes it.

Anders grins against Nate's neck as he relaxes. "Sleep well, and sleep deeply, my love." Wake up first. Why risk it? He's gone with out sleep for far lesser causes, and if he can stay awake until Nate's deep asleep he knows exactly what he wants to do.

Nathaniel smiles and cuddles hard against Anders. He doesn't concern himself too much about who will wake up how, instead contemplating the sound of Anders breathing, the feel of his heartbeat, the warmth of his skin. This may be a nap, but he thinks he is most likely the one who will wake first. If so, his objective is clear. If not, it is even clearer.

He loves the sound of Nate sleeping beside him. For a couple of hours he indulges himself in that, the even breathing, the warmth against him, the fact that the love of his life is here with him. Carefully he brushes Nate's hair back, not wanting to disturb him too early but feeling like watching for a time.

When he eventually feels Nate's got enough sleep to be rested, Anders gets the oil as quietly as possible and scoots down a little, ever so slowly, so that he can slick a finger and take his time working it in. It takes far more care than Nate would have needed for him; he has things up there often enough that it likely wouldn't strike him as unusual, not when he's sleeping next to someone he trusts to protect him. He enjoys the work, though, the knowledge that he's starting to stir pleasure, possibly already starting to let it slip into Nate's dreams. Nate's warm and so tight around him and yet welcoming at the same time and Anders has to fight the urge to kiss the man hungrily and bring him to wakefulness.

After what feels like ages he as a second finger and works to slick Nate's passage, paying gentle attention to the sensitive gland and resisting the urge to play more directly with it. Nate is temptation itself, but it's delicious to do this and hope it's making Nate's sleep all the more pleasant.

By the time he's eased Nate open to the point he thinks he can slip inside, Anders is hard enough that he's starting to ache. With great care he repositions himself behind Nate and presses his cock to Nate's entrance. It's likely the greatest test of patience he's ever had, entering slowly and not kissing the back of Nate's gorgeous neck but he manages. Then it's all slow rocking of his hips and gentle stroking of Nate's cock, taking his time, building everything carefully and anticipating Nate waking up.

Muted dreams. Soft blue light. Silken strokes deep inside, warm in his imagination.

A soft moan comes out of Nathaniel's nose before he is awake. In his dreams, a building and unbearable pleasure invades. What was something odd but engaging has become irresistible and stimulating. His heart is beating harder, and that means he can't stay asleep. The first thing he is aware of is heat behind him. The second thing he is aware of is a touch somewhere inside, pressure where he cannot reach himself. There's another moan as he begins to wake, and another as he realizes what's happening, a hand coming behind to stroke Anders' face. Eyes open barely, lips parting to draw in breath, oh, Anders.

His hand grasps a hip behind him, stilling Anders' movements until he can draw away, turn in his arms, clasp him close and bracket him with his hips, legs open, hand guiding Anders' cock back to where it belongs. He presses in with kisses, shuddering with sensation, as desperate for his mouth as he is for breath.