Zevran simply could not help himself. As he had made his way through the trees down to the river, a flash of colour had caught his eye. Crouching in the bushes, he had a clear view of the former Templar standing naked on a tall rock, water running from his wet hair down the well-defined muscles of his back, over his taut buttocks and down solid thighs dusted with golden hairs. Zevran licked his lips, the sight of the naked warden causing his breeches to become uncomfortably tight.
With two long strides, Alistair brought himself to the edge of the rock, then threw himself into a graceful dive. Zevran knew he should find his own place to bathe along the river, that what he was doing was a gross invasion of Alistair's privacy, but he could not tear his eyes away from the deliciously handsome warden.
He watched, mesmerised, as Alistair made his way back towards the shore, each step revealing more of his tantalizingly firm flesh. Broad, strong shoulders were followed by rippling pectorals, and then perfectly carved abdominal muscles. Zevran felt a shiver run up his spine, and he bit his lip in anticipation of what the next step would bring.
The bulge in his smallclothes went from uncomfortable to painful very quickly, as he drank in the sight of Alistair's impressive manhood. Not only was the tall, broad warrior well in proportion, but even in the river's cold water, he was standing gloriously at attention. Zevran began salivating at the thought of taking that member deep into his throat, Alistair begging and moaning under his skilled ministration, strong hands reaching down to find a grip in his hair –
"Maker, not again." the exasperated groan pulled him roughly from his daydream, and he wondered idly just when his hand had found its way under his clothes. Down in the river, Alistair was giving his own erection a look that matched his tone. With a sigh, he looked around, as though to make sure he was alone. Hidden in the shadows, Zevran remained unnoticed, his eyes locked on the handsome human, praying that Alistair was about to do what he thought he was.
Alistair moved to lean against the rock he had dived from, and with pleasured groan, took himself in hand. Zevran couldn't believe his luck, as he pumped his own cock in time to the warrior. He bit his lip to hold back any accidental moans, the pain adding deliciously to his pleasure. He devoured the sight before him; Alistair's adorable flush, his soft lips parted as he panted and groaned, the flow of those taut muscles beneath his skin as he pumped. Zevran watched, dazzled, as Alistair arched his back as he came, a name breaching his lips in a delicious drawn out moan, and Zevran bit back his own moan as his seed soaked the earth before him. He sat there in the dirt for several seconds, stunned.
Alistair had said his name. Zevran.
Hearing his name spoken in such a husky, lust filled voice had sent a pulse throughout his body, had pushed him over the edge into orgasm. And it had been the naïve, virginal chantry boy that had said it. Alistair had been thinking of him. Zevran felt a burning need to know just what Alistair had imagined, to know just what Alistair wanted to do to him, and what he would let him do in return.
Peeking back through the leaves, he saw Alistair sitting now, still against the rock, the water up to his chest. He wore the look of a man well sated, and his eyes were half-closed. Zevran tucked himself back into his clothes, and then made an unnecessary amount of noise as he made his way to the river, looking to all the world as though he had just arrived. Alistair looked up at the sound, but relaxed when he recognised the elf. He lent back against his rock and made a show of ignoring the other man. But he couldn't hide the faint blush that bloomed anew on his cheeks.
"Good afternoon Alistair. How is the water?" he greeted cheerfully as he placed his towel and soap on a nearby rock. Alistair gave him a peevish look.
"There's a lot of river to choose from you know. Plenty of room for people to bathe in peace. Alone." He said pointedly. Zevran smirked at him.
"Yes but nowhere else on the river can one bathe in such fine company as yourself." He said in reply.
"That's what I was afraid of." Alistair muttered to himself, crossing his arm's defensively. Zevran chuckled as he began to strip. He watched in amusement as Alistair's eyes widened as he removed his shirt, revealing the expanse of tanned, tattooed flesh beneath. The grey warden blushed and pointedly looked away. Zevran could not resist the opportunity to tease.
"What is the matter, my friend?" he asked casually as he shucked off his breeches and smalls. "You have seen another man nude before, yes?" he stood with his hands on his hips as he waited for an answer, completely at home with his nakedness. Alistair made a noise halfway between a snort and a cough, before replying dryly.
"Of course. The Templars seem to believe that individual comforts soften people, and that extended to bathing in private. Thirty boys all in a room trying to get as clean as possible using only a water trough and a sponge? You try not catching an eyeful." He was still staring resolutely at the water.
"I'd be getting more than an eyeful, I assure you my friend." Zevran purred as he made his way to the top of the diving rock.
"Really?" the muttered reply tried to sound uninterested and sceptical, but Zevran knew bait when he heard it, even if Alistair wasn't fully aware of what he'd thrown. Zevran took it.
"Of course Alistair. Strapping young men, on the peak of their prime, all training hard, glistening with sweat … still discovering their bodies and what they can do." On that note, he dove in, no doubt liberally splashing the furiously blushing Templar. He surfaced gracefully, slicking his long blonde hair back before moving towards Alistair in the shallows. "Surely even you noticed your fellows? Young men can have such a … raw beauty about them." His voice was low and sultry, and he watched his target squirm uncomfortably under his heated gaze. The human muttered something. "What was that Alistair?" he asked, his eyes sparkling in amusement.
"I said I might have." He said louder, finally looking Zevran in the eye, his gaze as defiant as his blush was furious. "What do you care?" he glowered. Zevran chuckled throatily.
"Well for one thing, it would explain why you are …unfulfilled, as it were."
"Stop teasing me." The other man said seriously.
"I'm not teasing, my dear warden. You are my travelling companion. Is it so terrible that I might wish to get to know you." He moved closer as he spoke. "We might have more in common than you think." Alistair swallowed nervously as the other man approached, his Adam's apple gliding up and down his throat, and Zevran had a hard time pulling his mind away from the thought of his cock sliding into that throat. "So tell me, Alistair; what was it like, being surrounded by all those young men, and not being allowed to touch?" Another step closer.
"Stop teasing me." Alistair repeated, his face darkening, and Zevran was very glad that looks could not kill. But even that furious expression added to his appeal, giving him a wild caste that made Zevran shiver. He took another step closer, now within arm's reach of the big human. He fixed him with a sultry stare.
"Would it really be so terrible," another step forward, "just this once," another step brought him right in front of the shaking warrior, "to touch?" a small, tanned hand slowly , delicately came to rest on that broad chest.
Zevran had forgotten how fast Alistair could move without all that plate on. Before he knew what was happening, he was flat on his back in the shallows, shoulders pinned by strong hands and a very angry warrior above him.
"I told you," he growled, "to stop teasing me." Zevran looked into the angry amber eyes above him.
"And I told you," he replied seriously, snaking his hands up to run across the Alistair's back and shoulders, "I'm not teasing." The amber eyes search his face, searching for something as anger warred with indecision on his handsome features. But their proximity and position drove Zevran to throw caution to the wind, and his hands gripped the warrior's neck and roughly pulled him down into a kiss.
This act seemed to finally assure Alistair that the rogue was serious in his intentions, and began to return the kiss with all the passion he had worked so hard to ignore in the past few months. He pulled the supple elf flush against his body, grinding their hips together.
Zevran carefully adjusted his kissing style to school his inexperienced partner's own technique. Alistair proved himself to be a quick study, and Zevran felt himself melt into the kiss, revelling in the weight of Alistair above him, and the insistent press of his rock hard manhood against his own erection.
He was pleasantly surprised to feel a calloused hand slide down his stomach, cautiously wrapping a warm hand around his length. He pushed encouragingly against the other man's touch, moaning into their kiss. It was an even greater surprise when that same hand hesitantly made its way further south, cradling his smooth balls before heading down further. Zevran pressed forward more insistently, guiding him. Zevran shivered as Alistair began to kiss down his neck, moaning at the first light nip into the tender flesh, even as a finger lightly massaged his entrance.
"For someone wh- who hasn't done this - ah- before, you cer-TAIN-ly seem to know what you –Ahh- doing." He managed to moan out as his partner sucked and nipped at his sensitive earlobe. He was rewarded with a chuckle and a wicked grin.
"It's amazing what you learn when you have to clean near the confessionals…" he said before capturing the elf in another heated kiss. In a well-practiced move, Zevran flipped the pair over, so that he was now straddling the startled warrior. He fixed the startled warrior with an equally wicked grin, then took an erect, pink nipple between his teeth, delighted by the gasp it elicited. He licked and kissed his way down, until he was face to face with that beautiful, erect cock.
He lightly licked at the tip, and then kissed it, before taking the tip between his lips and teasing it with his tongue, savouring the taste of the other man. He began to work his head up and down, taking a little more in each time, until he was taking him all the way to the hilt.
"Oh Maker, Zevran!" Alistair's breathy moan sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his groin. Rough hands grabbed him and threw him onto his back, and then Alistair's spit-slicked cock was pushing into him. He hissed as he adjusted, wishing they had something more than saliva for lubricant.
Hearing his discomfort, Alistair stopped, and pulled his lover into a surprisingly tender kiss. Slowly, Alistair thrust into him, his eyes searching for any sign of pain on Zevran's face. Finding only pleasurable moans, their pace increased, until the rough urgency had once again consumed them. Zevran moaned his lover's name as a slight adjust found that sweet spot within, and his nails dug sharply into his lover's back as he pushed against him insistently, feeling the crest of his pleasure about to hit its peak.
Alistair moaned Zevran's name as he came deep inside him, pushing the elf over the edge with him, and he unravelled in bliss, the warrior's name escaping his own lips.
Alistair collapsed down beside him, both men a panting, boneless mess, neither caring that they lay in ankle-deep river water. After a time, Alistair propped himself up on his elbows and regarded the man next to him.
"So. What happens now?" he asked hesitantly. "According to the chantry sisters, should have been struck by lightning right about now." Zevran chuckled as he sat up.
"Right now? I finish my bath. After that, is entirely up to you." He replied, turning to look at the Templar.
"Good. Because I definitely want to do that again." Zevran felt himself shiver at the positively predatory grin directed at him.
