The k!meme said "Let there be smut", and so there was. Yes, another prompt fill. This one said:
"I'd really like to see some pure, unadulterated smut involving Jowan, a Warden that's not a mage or was from the Tower, and Jowan introducing our dear Warden to magic in the most intimate of ways. Bonus points if it somehow involves his blood magic. Warm, chocolate chip cookies if the Warden's specialty is a Templar and you work it into the story somehow."
Attempting the fill with my Jowan-Alistair pair from "So Sharp A Thorn", so yes, it's going to be a slash-y good time involving a templar warden. Smut level is fairly mild, since I'm still trying to get comfortably with writing reasonably explicit material. I have some plot and character development mixed in with it, as it helps to get me past the bits that make me feel an overwhelming need to go hide my head under a pillow until the blushes fade.
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn
Though it's been a while now
I can still feel so much pain
Like a knife that cuts you the wound heals
but the scar, that scar will remain
- "Every Rose Has Its Thorn", Poison
It seemed very quiet in the group's rented quarters after Arren, Oghren, Sten and Morrigan departed for the Deep Roads. Wynne had headed directly off to visit the Shaperate and bury herself in research after the others departed, and Zevran had vanished off somewhere. Alistair and Jowan found themselves at loose ends for once. And with a sizable private room at the end of the hallway all to themselves, and no need to worry about disturbing the neighbours, not when there were thick stone walls between them and the next-closest rooms, and those rooms were currently empty anyway while the others were gone.
They controlled the temptation to make immediate use of their rare chance at privacy; the others would likely be in the Deep Roads for days, if not weeks, and they'd have plenty of time to exercise their baser natures. For now, they enjoyed the tension of heightened anticipation, of delaying their real pleasure, to just spend some time together.
They took Mouse, Arren's mabari, along with them, and went on a walk through the commons, browsing idly at the various shops. Alistair smiled, watching Jowan bartering with a merchant over some geegaw he'd decided he wanted; the man had changed so much in the nearly two months since Arren had talked Bann Teagan into releasing him into the wardens' custody. The frightened, pale dungeon-rat they'd taken on, dressed in stained and stinking mage robes, was now self-assured, his laughing grey eyes and glossy black hair a striking contrast with his tanned skin. He wore a snugly fitting pair of dark sueded leather pants, matching leather boots, and a loose white linen shirt, the only sign that he was a mage the staff he carried, an oak branch that looked more like a walking stick than a magical implement.
When he glanced at Alistair, the brief grin the diminutive mage flashed at him woke a warm coil of desire in the templar's belly. He stepped closer to him.
Jowan smiled warmly up at him. "Lunch at Tapsters, then back to our room?" the mage asked softly.
Alistair smiled back. "Yes," he agreed.
They took their time over lunch, Alistair packing away two large servings of food while Jowan ate a much smaller portion, smiling a little as he watched the warden eat. Even eater at a slower speed, he finished well before Alistair.
"I'm going to go buy a couple more things – why don't we meet back at our room?" Jowan suggested.
Alistair frowned. "Take Mouse with you, I don't want you on your own."
Jowan smiled fondly at him. "Of course." he said, and rose to his feet, snapping his fingers to call the dog to heel. He paused and grinned at Alistair. "How about you pick up some food to bring back to the room? So we can stay in this evening," he said, raising an eyebrow.
Alistair laughed. "That sounds like a great idea. Any requests?"
"Something other than nug or mushrooms."
Alistair snorted. "Good luck. Maybe if I check the market outside."
"Just don't take too long," Jowan said, smiling.
"I won't," Alistair said, and smiled warmly back before Jowan turned and walked away.
Alistair returned to their room with several well-wrapped parcels in hand. He paused in the door, frowning when he didn't see any sign of his companion. "Jowan?" he called out worriedly.
"I'm in the bathing chamber," Jowan's voice calmly called back. "Be right there."
Alistair smiled, walked the rest of the way in, and put the parcels down carefully on the small table in the sitting area at the front of their room. He stripped off his gauntlets, and dropped them onto the table as well, then reached up and scrubbed his hands through his hair.
"Tired?" a voice said behind him, and he turned to find Jowan looking questioningly at him, wearing only the shirt he'd been in before.
"No, just... antsy. I don't like Arren being so far away that I can't tell where he is," he admitted ruefully, running an admiring eye over the half-naked mage as he reached for the buckles of his own armour. Living as close as the two of them did, he'd not seen any point in trying to conceal Grey Warden secrets from Jowan, and once he'd admitted to more obvious things like his nightmares and increased appetite, admitting the less obvious, like his ability to sense where his fellow warden was, had not seemed worth concealing any further either.
Jowan nodded and walked over. "Let me help you with that," he said quietly, reaching for the buckle Alistair was struggling with. "Stand still.
Alistair nodded and did so, lifting his arms out slightly from his side. He stood quietly while Jowan squired him, carefully removing and putting aside each piece of armour in turn, stacked neatly on the floor nearby. It was oddly soothing, just standing there and letting the smaller man attend to him. And given that it was Jowan – and a Jowan dressed in nothing but a long loose shirt – more then a little erotic as well. An effect only heightened when the mage knelt down to remove his boots and greaves.
He could feel himself flushing self-consciously as he stirred to life within the tight confines of his armour and undergarments. For a moment he half-hoped that Jowan wasn't aware of the effect he was having. Then the man put aside the last piece of armour and rose gracefully to his feet, his lips curving into what was more of a smirk then a smile, and plastered himself against Alistair, hands rising to rest on either side of his neck then slide upwards, fingers twining into his short-cropped hair.
"I love your blushes," Jowan said quietly, voice just slightly husky, and tugged Alistair's head down to meet his lips.
Alistair willingly obliged, leaning over just slightly, eyes drifting closed as he concentrated on the feeling of Jowan's lips under his, Jowan's tongue licking along his lips, requesting entrance. He sighed softly, letting his mouth fall open, his hands rising to rest lightly on Jowan's hips. Jowan's tongue thrust slowly into his mouth, swirling slowly around the tip of his own, a teasing warm wet pressure. The tongue retreated, giving a final little flick at his lips, and he felt Jowan's mouth close and curl into a smile against his own. "You're wearing too many clothes still," Jowan said gently, chidingly, and his hands released Alistair's head to reach down and begin to tug loose the lacing at the collar of Alistair's gambeson.
Alistair smiled, and released his hold on Jowan. As the mage took hold of the heavy padded fabric over Alistair's shoulders and yanked, he stepped backwards and bent forward, lifting his arms so that the unwieldy garment could be more easily slid off over his head. He straightened and rolled his shoulders and head as Jowan bundled the stiff fabric and dropped it to one side. The mage smiled, then stepped close again, one hand rising to twine in Alistair's hair and coax him down for a second kiss, while the second came to rest on his taut stomach just where his ribs left off, then slowly roamed downwards, stroking lightly across the dip of hard muscle and tracing down the thin trail of hairs from his navel to the waist of his pants, then spreading out as it dropped to cup Alistair's erection through the fabric.
Alistair groaned, his hips reflexively flexing to press himself against Jowan's hand, and again Jowan ended a kiss with a smile. "We'll start by doing something about that," the mage said, firmly.
Jowan looked around the room, and frowned. The major problem with staying in dwarven accommodations, he quickly decided, was that everything was too damned low. There wasn't really any surface at a proper height, except... yes. He moved Alistair's gauntlets and parcels off the table, then patted the smooth stone surface. "Come and sit right here," he said, giving his companion a mischievous smile. "On the edge, with your knees apart."
Alistair silently complied, chewing pensively on his bottom lip as he did so. His nervous expression drew a warm smile from Jowan. Alistair could be so self-confident, so assured in some things – like when he was in a fight, or offering comfort – and then in others areas he was always so terribly hesitant and unsure of himself. At least at first, until he lost himself in his wanton side and forgot to be shy. Coaxing that part of him to the fore in their encounters was a task Jowan didn't think he'd ever get tired of.
He stepped forward, between Alistair's legs. Sitting on the table like this put Alistair's head just slightly lower then Jowan's own for once, and he took advantage of it to exchange a third teasing kiss with the man, enjoying the subtle differences the change in relative heights gave to the experience, the feel of Alistair's hands coming to rest on his clothed back then sliding slowly downwards to cup his buttocks, silently urging him forward. He resisted the gentle pressure, and ended the kiss. "Lean back," he murmured. Alistair obediently released him, leaning back with straightened arms propping him up.
Jowan unlaced the front of Alistair's breeches, then tugged on the waistband, Alistair silently lifting his hips for a moment so that Jowan could slip them down, along with Alistair's smallclothes and stockings. He dropped them to the side, with the gambeson, and then just stood a moment, drinking in the sight of the now-naked warrior lounging back on the table, looking relaxed and happy, except for a certain part of him that was standing at rigid attention.
Seeing Alistair naked like this always brought the same word to mind. Magnificent. Because he was, with his golden hair, bright eyes and handsome face, his broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped torso and firmly muscled arms and legs. His face was warmly tanned, the tan quickly tapering off down the corded column of his neck, changing to creamy pale skin everywhere else, where he was normally shielded from the sun by his layers of arming garments and impervious armour. Jowan was more darkly tanned then he was, the thin cotton of the loose shirts he favoured not being entirely impervious to the sun's rays.
As he watched, Alistair blushed again, the redness starting in his cheeks then creeping quickly down his throat and across the upper surfaces of his chest. He felt his own arousal increase. He adored Alistair's blushes, the sure sign they gave him of just how powerfully they affected each other. Wordlessly, Jowan dropped down onto his knees, leaning forward and nuzzling against Alistair's straining erection, drawing a hitching gasp from the warrior. He carefully settled a hand on the thighs to either side of him, enjoying the shiver he felt pass through the firm muscles under his touch, then dipped his head and licked slowly up the underside of Alistair's erection, feeling the muscles under his hands go tense and hard as the man hissed and fought not to buck upwards at the contact.
"Jowan," Alistair exclaimed, surprised and needy, and Jowan raised his eyes and smiled warmly, reassuringly at him, before leaning forward and closing his mouth around the swollen tip. He sucked gently on him, his tongue laving across the rounded tip, tasting it, teasing circles around the ridged edge, then thrusting firmly against the sensitive spot on its underside, drawing gasps and groans from Alistair.
He slowly sucked more of the man into his mouth, tilting his head back just slightly as he did so, so that he could look up across the quivering planes of Alistair's stomach and chest, and see his face. Alistair had his head thrown back, eyes tight shut, mouth open and panting, lost in sensation. Jowan hummed in satisfaction, was rewarded with a jerk as Alistair struggled to keep still when every instinct was likely screaming at him to thrust. He took more of him into his mouth, then slowly drew back, pressing his tongue firmly against the thick vein on the sensitive underside, before taking him in again, a little further this time.
Zevran had told him it was possible to learn to relax your throat enough to swallow someone in entirely, without gagging, but he'd still not mastered that trick, and didn't want to attempt it today. So he settled for taking in as much of Alistair's erection as he could comfortably manage, then wrapped the fingers of one hand around the remainder of his shaft, and then slowly working his head up and down while his hand gently tightened and loosed, tugging and releasing.
He could feel the tremors, the little jerks, the slight rolling motions of Alistair's hips that he couldn't quite stop himself from making, and wanted to smile, though that wasn't possible with his current mouthful. He felt the sudden swelling that heralded Alistair's oncoming orgasm, and drew back, keeping just a little more then the tip in his mouth and sucked, hard. Alistair cried out, hips jerking up as he arched off the table, sinking into Jowan's mouth as his seed spurted out. Jowan swallowed and sucked, swallowed again, only letting his mouth relax as the aftershocks faded and Alistair's hips lowered back to the table again, arms giving out so that he was propped up on bent arms rather then straightened ones.
Jowan rose to his feet, ignoring his own erection, hard and needy against his stomach under the enveloping shirt. "Come on," he growled huskily. "Bath time. And then there's some things I want to try."
Alistair laughed weakly, but pushed himself upright, balancing for a moment on the edge of the table. "You expect me to walk right after that?" he asked hoarsely, but rose to his feet – only a little shakily – and obediently followed Jowan to their bathing chamber.