Healing Starts With A Kiss

by Enchantm3nt

When Anders is captured by Templars a certain white-haired elf unexpectedly rescues him, more unexpectedly than that, the elf takes him back to his mansion to tend to his wounds. Both conventional and unconventional methods of healing are used... This is a gift fic for the wonderful and talented Hatsepsut, because the Queen deserves a prezzie too. This is a Fenders fic & rated M!

A/N: Hatse, we all love you, so this is all for you (although others are encouraged to read too). Oh and the slash is toward the end, what can I say, I'm a tease. Please be gentle, this is the first Fenders fic I have ever written! Reviews are very welcome :P And thank you Tb93 for betaing! Enjoy!

Healing Starts With A Kiss.

Fenris prowled along the docks as was part of his usual morning routine. There was a thick fog rolling off of the sea, obscuring much of the rising Sun's light and warmth. The dock workers had only just begun unloading an Orlesian galley of her cargo. The crates were decorated in lavish paint of swirling designs and bright colours. Fenris shook his head at the sight of them; he would never understand why anyone would bother to paint a crate. It seemed so improvident and senseless. He had never understood Danarius' extravagant dinner parties either; often his guests would eat and eat until they threw up and then they would continue to eat. It was gluttony and gloating at its finest.

The recent warm weather had left the dockside dustier than usual and he found the soles of his feet quickly getting dirty despite the bath he had taken that morning. He didn't really care about the state of his feet as long as he could still walk on them but others were apparently offended if he came indoors with them caked in mud and grime. Hawke had been pushing for him to wear shoes for several months, claiming it was a health hazard to go barefoot. He did not, however, pester the blood mage about her lack of footwear, instead stating that Merrill would not be able to skip as easily with clunky boots on. Why, then, Fenris was being pestered to wear footwear was beyond him. Hawke was an odd man at times, peculiar in his tastes and mercurial in his moods. The entire discussion had only made Fenris more obstinate in his want to keep his feet bare and free. They were his feet. He would do with them as he pleased.

The clank of metal drew him out of his frankly inane musings, and he looked up to see several Templars marching toward the boats that would take them across the calm waters to the Gallows beyond. Fenris stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed the golden hair of the abomination; the mage was in manacles being tugged along by the Templars.

He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little bit smug at the sight of the mage in chains; an abomination such as he should not be free. With that being said though, Fenris never would have tattled on the mage due to his status as Hawke's friend. He wondered briefly who had; perhaps the Templars merely found him themselves?

The mage's head lifted, his dark amber eyes locked with Fenris' slightly widened green ones. The mage's face was swollen and dark with bruises, his lips bloody and cracked. The mages' eyes were pleading, miserable, haunted. Eyes Fenris had seen staring back at him in a mirror once, many years before. Fenris clenched his fists as he scowled in the direction of the mage. He was in chains and the Templars had beaten him into submission. It was not necessary. It was not right.

Before he could even think about what he was doing, he was on the Templars, his sword in his hands cutting through them like they were weeds in a garden. The armoured men were clearly startled by his sudden attack and took several moments to collect themselves and fight back in earnest, by which point Fenris had already cut down three of them with a fourth severely injured. He did not pause his attack; his markings were ablaze as his blood sang in anger. The fifth Templar fell, his head severed from his body, the sixth went next, a fist phasing through his chest plate to seek out his heart. Fenris returned to the fourth who was cowering as he clutched his bleeding chest. Fenris put his sword away very slowly as he approached the blabbering Templar. And then his arm lit up a brilliant blue and he plunged it into the Templars neck, snapping his spine. The body fell to the floor with a thud, metal clattering loudly on the stone.

Fenris turned his attention back to the stunned mage who was trembling slightly, amber eyes filled with tears. "Thank you," he rasped quietly, his swollen lip and face making it hard to talk.

Fenris nodded at him. "Come. You can stay at my mansion."

The mage's brow furrowed slightly. "It's fine; I can…the Hanged Man…"

Fenris arched a dark brow at him. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to protect the mage but there was no sense in changing his mind now. "I have patched up many an injury similar to yours. None other in our group can claim such skills."

Anders watched him wearily but voiced no further protestations and Fenris crouched down to find the keys to the shackles still around the mages wrists. He pulled the key from the Templars pocket, and approached the mage who took a cautious step back.

"I'll do it," Anders said quietly.

"It will be quicker if I do." Fenris stepped forward as the mage slowly lifted his hands up to him. Fenris' fingers rested on the mage's arm, the heat of his skin sending a shiver though him. He carefully unlocked the cuffs and removed them. There were deep gouges on the mages wrists and Fenris hissed at the sight of them. "How long did they leave these on for?" he enquired, watching the mage's downcast eyes.

"Days," he muttered.

Fenris gasped, "Can you heal them?"

Anders shook his head. "I'm too tired."

Fenris nodded. "Can you manage the walk to Hightown?"

Anders swallowed thickly then gave him a determined nod, and they began their walk. It became clear very quickly that the mage was in no condition to walk up the steps without aid. Stubborn as he was though, he refused Fenris' help and continued to trudge up them without assistance.

"You look dead on your feet, allow me to help," Fenris insisted again.

"I'm fine," Anders said through wheezy breaths as he staggered slightly.

"You are not fine." Anders waved him off as he swayed on the step and Fenris grabbed his arm, pulling him into his chest. "What did I say?"

Anders mumbled unintelligibly as his eyes drifted shut. Fenris sighed and allowed the human to flop back against his arm before hooking his other arm under his legs and lifting him up. He carried him up the remaining steps, and made his way through Hightown, garnering quite a few unamused looks from the nobles. He ignored them, and instead glanced down at the mage in his arms; his eye socket looked like it might be fractured, his nose had definitely been broken as well, and it would not surprise him to learn that the mage had lost a few teeth if the bruising along his jaw was anything to go by, the mage's breathing was also ragged and uneven. He hurried his steps, wanting to get some medicine into the mage as fast as possible.

Anders' eyes fluttered open as Fenris reached his mansion and a very small smile turned the corners of his broken lips up before he sighed quietly.

"Can you stand now?" Fenris asked him as he reached his door.

Anders nodded in response and Fenris carefully set him down, letting him lean against the wall as he unlocked the door. He helped Anders toward one of the mansion's many side rooms, and down onto an old worn out sofa. That sofa had served Fenris quite well whenever he had gotten drunk and needed somewhere relatively comfortable to pass out on without risking the perilous task of navigating stairs whilst inebriated.

He settled the mage down, offering him blankets and cushions before rushing off to gather his healing supplies. Fenris' aversion to magic, both the pain it caused him to be healed and his hatred of mages, had meant that he was prolific at cleaning up minor injuries, and he soon had everything gathered up. He returned to the mage who was sitting quietly staring at the deep gashes in his wrists.

Fenris crouched down in front of him, startling him slightly. "I have the supplies. Will you permit me to clean you up?"

Anders glanced at the supplies and then back to Fenris before nodding glumly. Fenris pulled out the cleaning agent, a potent mixture but an effective one. He dabbed it onto some cloth and then took one of the mage's hands in his own, touching him lightly. Heat coursed through him again and his eyes found Anders' watching him carefully, guardedly. He tried to give the mage a reassuring smile but with Anders being a healer he knew this was going to sting and he winced before the cloth even made contact with his skin. When it did connect he hissed, his head flicking to the side as his eyes scrunched shut; it afforded Fenris a better view of the mage's neck and shoulder which were also covered in bruises and what appeared to be bite marks. Fenris' grip on the mage's hand tightened ever so slightly and Anders turned to stare at him again, his eyes widening a little; Fenris relaxed his grip and cleared his throat as he dabbed at the raw wrists some more.

Finally satisfied they were cleaned enough, he applied a poultice, gently rubbing the cool mixture around the wounds before he bandaged them up.

"Thank you," Anders said, his voice still lacking his usual lilt.

Fenris nodded, brushing white hair away from his face. "I need to apply a balm to the bruising on your face to help with the swelling."

Anders gave a gentle dip of his head and Fenris put a blob of the balm onto his palm. He lifted his hands, and slowly rubbed the balm along Anders' bruised and stubbly jawline. He continued to apply the balm, soothing it along the purple skin and Anders' eyes slowly blinked closed. Fenris moved a strand of the mage's golden-red hair, tucking it behind his ear before dabbing the cream onto his bruised cheekbone and then around the blackened eye.

"Are there any other open wounds that need tending to?" Fenris asked softly, a few inches from Ander's face as he rubbed in the remainder of the cream.

"Lashes, on my back," Anders mumbled. "And my broken lip."

Fenris picked up a small tub of healing poultice and applied it to his index. "Tilt your head slightly," he instructed and the mage obliged.

He lifted his digit to the edge of Anders' mouth and the mage's lips parted slightly, a tongue briefly poking out to wet the cracked skin. Fenris could feel his heart begin to pound in his chest as he caressed the broken lip, his finger gliding along the parched skin. Anders' eyes were closed again and Fenris could feel his hot breath on his fingers, it made something stir in the pit of his stomach; he pulled back his finger and cleared his throat.

"I'll do your back now."

Anders' eyes opened lazily as he nodded and undid the buttons on his shirt and Fenris frowned when he saw the bruising along the mage's ribs. Anders scooted forward on the sofa so Fenris could sit behind him. He winced slightly at the red and bloodied back of the mage, and then got to work cleaning the wounds.

"You have been lashed before," Fenris commented, noticing the older scars marring the mage's pale skin.

"I escaped from the Circle seven times before joining the Wardens," Anders said in way of an answer.

Fenris narrowed his eyes slightly and rubbed the cream along a particularly deep line. "It is common occurrence for Templars to whip their charges?"

A shoulder lifted in response. "Give someone enough power and anything's possible."

Fenris frowned at the mage's back but continued to tend to his wounds. "It does not sound so different to slavery," he admitted in a whisper.

Anders looked over his shoulder at him. "Perhaps it isn't," he agreed sadly. His head returned to facing forward. "You're good at this."

Fenris let out a derisive snort. "I had no choice but to learn such skills. I trusted no mage and magic hurts my markings."

"I could have helped without the use of magic. You needn't do such things alone, you know," Anders said, his voice flat, carrying none of its usual venom.

"That is…kind of you to say. I prefer to keep my independence though, it is good practice should such a time come that I find myself alone once more."

"You really think you'll have to go on the run again?"

"There was a time when I thought it was inevitable, now though… perhaps not. Danarius will come for me eventually but I am alone no longer."

"Hawke would die before he let that magister take you as a slave again."

"Yes, I believe he would."

"I know how horrible it is to constantly be on the run, you've done better than me at staying free," Anders chuckled.

Fenris smiled. "It is surprising, I do nothing to hide my presence here and I don't exactly blend in."

Anders laughed quietly. "I usually stayed in my mage robes when I escaped…even kept the staff on my back. Thinking back on it, that probably wasn't the wisest thing to do."

Fenris scoffed. "Probably not. Have you any other injuries?" he asked as he finished up with the lashes.

"My…my lower back aches. I… do you have a hot water bottle? Heat usually helps."

Fenris' stomach dropped. "You…know from experience?"

Anders heaved a sigh. "When I was in solitary for a year…it was not always solitary."

Fenris swallowed the bile rising in his throat as his fingers curled into a fist in his lap. "I did not know."

"Why would you? I don't like to talk about it and you never asked."

Fenris stared at the mage's red and white back for a few moments, his time in the Tower; his experiences with Templars were not so different from Fenris' time as a slave.

"I…know from experience that my hands make an excellent replacement for a hot water bottle," Fenris offered.

Anders shifted to look at him, his brow furrowing. "You weren't just a body guard."

Fenris shook his head.

The mage's eyes saddened for a moment. "We appear to have more in common than I realised."

"So it seems." He put the supplies down next to his leg and rubbed his hands together. "May I?" He indicated to his hands and Anders nodded.

Fenris let his markings flare the bright blue that he had become so used to and felt heat flood through his veins. He pressed his hands flat against Anders' lower back, and the mage moaned in relief, his head falling backwards. It was such an erotic pose, the sight of which sent a shiver of desire surging through Fenris' body.

"How did they capture you?" he asked in an attempt to distract himself.

"I don't know. I think I was betrayed. It doesn't really matter," he said softly.

Fenris moved his hands slightly lower, pulling another moan from the mage's mouth. "How can you say that?" he asked, his voice sounding hoarse even to him.

"If they betrayed me it was because they were desperate, desperate for the coin or the food. How can I blame them for that?"

"But you help them; you are their healer, after everything you have done…"

"After everything I have done they are still poor, they are still homeless, jobless, starving, sick and alone. I do what I can for them but it will never be enough," he murmured.

"Surely you don't blame yourself for their circumstances though?" He shifted his hands again, his digits lightly massaging the mage's sore back.

Anders sighed both in pleasure and defeat. "No, But there's always more I could be doing."

"You do more than most in this city."

"Perhaps, with Justice though, it is never enough."

"And what does your… spirit think of all of this? Did it not aid you when the Templars attacked?"

"I would have been killed if Justice showed himself. It was better to submit once they hit me with a smite. I had not expected it to last days though." The mage lowered his head, shoulders sagging.

Fenris ran his hands up the mage's sides, then across his shoulders, his touch soft as not to hurt him. "And nobody realised you were gone?"

"I often leave for days at a time with the Mage Underground. Perhaps the Templars knew that too."

"We should have known… someone should have noticed," Fenris argued almost bitterly.

"It's done. It doesn't matter now."

He could see there was no point discussing such things; Anders was just as stubborn as he was. "How is your back now?"

"Better…. thank you for doing this… and for saving me. I had all but given up."

"It is fine. I will get you some food."

He removed his hands and slid off of the sofa but Anders' grabbed his wrist sending more shivers coursing through him. "I mean it; I would be Tranquil without you." The mage's fingers stroked his skin making Fenris shudder. "Thank you," Anders said sincerely, amber eyes sad and relieved.

Fenris nodded and swallowed thickly. "I will get you that food now."

He did not have much in his cupboards but he had some oats, it wouldn't taste as nice with water but he had no milk. He heated it up, stirring occasionally as his mind continued to play back their conversation in his head. Anders had been through similar abuse as he. He had more or less been a slave to the Templars and he knew what it was like to be on the run. How was Fenris only realising their similarities now, after years of knowing one another? Had they let blind hatred stand in the way of a potential friendship?

He shook his head as he poured the porridge into a bowl and then used the heated water to make some tea. When he returned to the mage he found him lying down, his head resting on the sofa's arm. It was only as Fenris got closer that he realised the mage was crying.

He approached him slowly. "Anders?"

He started a little at his words, and then sat up. "Yeah," he sniffed, wiping the tears with his hands.

Fenris sat down next to him. "For you." He handed him the bowl and mug.

"Thank you," Anders whispered as he placed the bowl in his lap and blew on the tea, cupping it close to him. He took a hesitant sip and then smiled in appreciation.

Fenris watched him for a few moments, wanting to say something but; as per usual, being uncertain of what exactly he should say. "I… am here if you wish to talk," he managed slightly awkwardly.

Anders gave him a warm smile. "It's nice, us, talking instead of bickering."

Fenris returned his smile. "In another life perhaps we would have been friends."

"Why not this one?" Anders asked giving him an odd look. "I'm just…I'm done." He frowned and stared at his tea. "I don't want to fight or argue or carry on shouting at deaf ears. I'm too old for it now." Anders sniffed again, then looked at him. "Can you believe I'm thirty in a week?"

Fenris smirked. "It's hard to tell through all of the bruising but I think you have a few wrinkles."

Anders snorted. "You could be older than me for all we know. You elves never show your true age."

"Not having any memories of my childhood doesn't help much either, I suppose," Fenris mused.

"Not at all," Anders laughed. "Hey, I know something else we have in common."

"Oh?"

He smiled slyly. "Neither of us uses our real name."

Fenris frowned. "Anders is not your real name?"

"Nope! I never told the Templars what it was, they took everything from me but I refused to let them have that. I was from the Anderfels so everyone took to calling me Anders." He shrugged and leaned back on the sofa, crossing his legs.

Fenris shifted to face him, their legs touching. "Do you still remember your real name?"

Anders nodded. "I've never told anyone it. I don't plan to start now."

Fenris smirked. "It would be odd to call you something other than Anders."

The mage's amber eyes sparkled mischievously. "Don't you mean abomination?"

Fenris' shoulders sagged. "I…that name is unkind. I apologise."

"No need. I always got defensive because, well, it hits rather close to home. It's the truth though, I am an abomination. A very nice and charming one, mind you." He chuckled and Fenris' lips curled upwards. "…But still an abomination."

"I do not think it is as black and white as that, not anymore. It's how I viewed all mages before I came to Kirkwall. But Hawke changed my view quite quickly… and I cannot deny the good you have done. Neither of you are like Danarius. I should not have put you all in the same basket."

Anders took a long sip of his tea. "And I should have been more understanding, been more willing to listen to the things you had seen and been put through in Tevinter. Justice wants the world to be black and white, but you're right, it isn't like that." He started to chuckle. "We sound like old married men discussing philosophy."

"Old married men flatulate and snore, Anders. They do not pontificate," Fenris scoffed and then arched an eyebrow at the untouched bowl of food in Anders' lap. "That porridge will not improve with age, mage."

Anders burst out laughing and Fenris grinned; he rather liked the mage's laugh and it was good to hear such a thing after seeing how upset the mage had been just moments ago. Anders turned to stare at him, amber eyes boring into him and Fenris became keenly aware of the way their legs were pressed together.

"I know I said it already, but thank you, Fenris."

"You are welcome, Anders." He smiled at the mage and watched him tuck into his food. "Would you like a hot bath prepared?"

Anders' eyes gleamed as he smiled. "That would be wonderful." He frowned slightly. "I want to get rid of their…touch."

Fenris' stomach twisted with guilt and anger and he nodded as he hopped off of the sofa. "I will prepare it now. Eat up and I will find you a change of clothes."

…

Fenris helped him up the stairs, he didn't carry him that time though, which Anders was a little disappointed about. He had been surprised at just how much he liked being in Fenris' arms, they were strong and so warm and comforting. There was no denying he was an attractive elf but Anders had always hated him due to his views, but that hatred was gone now. He just didn't have the strength or the energy to feel that way about anything anymore, maybe it was in part because Justice still hadn't fully recovered himself, the spirit remained at the furthest recesses of his mind, clearly traumatised by the whole ordeal. Not having the spirit constantly pressing on his mind and influencing his thoughts did leave him feeling quite alone though. He was used to the reassuring presence of Justice and now that he simply wasn't there Anders felt exposed and vulnerable. Perhaps that was also why he enjoyed the elf's company so much, why he savoured every touch, every look, every smile, and perhaps that was why he wished they could be friends.

They reached the top of the stairs but Fenris kept a hand gently gripping Anders' arm, the heat of his skin making Anders' entire body buzz with warmth. Fenris led him into the steamy washroom and Anders let out a contented sigh as the steam rolled over him.

"There are clothes there for you and creams to wash yourself with. I will leave you to it."

The elf removed his hand from his arm and Anders suddenly felt very cold. He frowned slightly at his sudden yearning for Fenris' touch; it was so unlike him to desire such things nowadays, he hadn't thought about being with anyone for years, not since Hawke had shut him down, quite bluntly too. Hawke was with Merrill now and quite happy by the looks of it.

He shrugged off his soiled clothes and dipped a toe into the steaming water with a loud moan. He lowered his whole foot in and then slipped the other into the water. Slowly, he lowered himself down, only to cry out in pain as the water surged over his sensitive rear. He hissed as he clutched the side, his knuckles turning white as the pain lanced through him.

"Anders?" Fenris' concerned voice called from the door.

"I'm – fuck," he gasped. "I'm okay, just….ugh, a bit tender."

The pain abated and he sat in the bath allowing the heat to sink through to his bones, finally relaxing slightly. He grabbed the cream and began to wash, all the while trying to avoid getting the bandages around his wrists too wet. It wouldn't matter if they did, they could just be changed, but he didn't want to ruin Fenris' careful work so soon, although…it would give him another excuse to be touched by him. He frowned again. How could he be thinking such things after everything he just went through?

He knew the reason, he wanted to feel anything but gauntlets and steel on his skin, even as he washed himself he could still feel their touch, smell their sweat and musk, taste their… He shuddered and scrubbed his arms and chest a little harder.

He tried to lower his head to the water's surface but his ribs screamed out in agony and a yelp flew past his lips. He wasn't going to be able to wash his hair, he groaned loudly and squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't, could he? He had done enough already…but there was blood and sweat and piss in his hair, it needed to be cleaned. He sighed.

"Fenris?" he called out and sat silently as he waited for a reply.

"Yes?" came the elf's soft answer.

"I… I can't wash my hair. My ribs are too busted up to lift my arms or lower my head, and I really need to wash it, there's far too many bodily fluids in it for my liking, most of them aren't even mine and -"

"Say no more," Fenris said from his side, making Anders jump and cover his crown jewels with his hands as he brought his knees up to his chest. The elf crouched down with a small pot and dunked it under the water. "Lean your head back."

Anders took a ragged breath and did so. Fenris' hand pressed against the hairline at his forehead as he poured the water over the top of his head. Fenris' hand slowly moved through his hair, stopping any water from running into his eyes. He repeated the process a few times, until Anders' hair was soaking. The elf ran a thick cream through his hair next, sending shivers shooting down his spine. Fenris massaged the cream into his scalp, fingers kneading his sensitive skin. Anders' head lulled back and several moans left his lips. He didn't care, it felt amazing. Fenris' fingers brushed his ear and desire coursed through his veins and straight to his groin. He didn't want this to end; after all of the pain he had experienced the past few days, any form of pleasure was bliss.

Fenris seemed reluctant to pull his hands away from his hair too and Anders could hear the elf's quiet pants from behind him. Was it possible he could feel it too? Whatever it was. Fenris' fingers ghosted over the nape of his neck and Anders moaned again and then Fenris picked up the pot again and began rinsing out the cream. The elf's fingers glided through his silky tresses and came to rest at the nape of his neck once more.

Suddenly, there was hot breath against his neck and then soft lips were planted on his shoulder, kissing him tenderly. Anders inclined his head to the side, groaning softly as Fenris' tongue darted out to lick up the side of his throat. The elf took his earlobe into his mouth and skilfully sucked on it. Anders had no way of resisting this new onslaught of pleasure, nor did he want to. He wanted to feel those lips, that tongue and his expert fingers over the rest of his body. Fenris stopped suckling on his earlobes and Anders shuddered as the elf breathed into his ear.

Then the breath was gone and the hand at his neck with it.

"You need to rest. I'll let you get changed and then show you to your room." Fenris disappeared out of the door and Anders sighed as he sunk into the water.

Fenris leaned heavily against the balcony, his hands clenching the railing to try to stop them from shaking. He did not know what had come over him… seeing Anders naked and vulnerable, running his hands through the other man's hair, and the noises the mage had made had completely undone him. He prided himself on his self-control and yet it had slipped away from him in a matter of seconds. His trousers were still tight against the bulge beneath, begging to be touched. He had never felt such things toward the mage before but now he couldn't stop feeling them.

The door creaked open and Fenris turned to see Anders, now fully clothed, standing in the door way with a tired smile on his face. The mage looked good in the black silk trousers and matching silk shirt. It was perhaps a bit bagging around his chest but the length was about right for him. Fenris motioned for him to follow and led him to a side room where he had lit a fire and put clean sheets on the bed. Anders had tears in his eyes again as he muttered yet another 'thank you', Fenris nodded at him and bade him good night.

"Fenris?"

He turned back around. "Mm?"

The mage gave him a small half smile. "Good night."

Fenris nodded and then left him, closing the door on his way out.

It was some hours before he could find sleep himself, even then it was fitful. He wanted to go to the mage. He wanted to taste his skin on his lips again, to breathe him in, to run his hands through his hair. Even after pleasuring himself to such thoughts he still wanted more, the mage had sparked something inside of him, something he wasn't used to and didn't quite understand and yet it was something so primal, so instinctive. He wanted to protect him, to care for him, to be with him.

He bolted up right at the sound of the other man screaming, and rushed out of his room and into his. Anders was sitting up in the bed, panting hard and clutching his chest. His eyes were wide as they locked onto Fenris'.

"Nightmare," Anders gasped out.

Fenris relaxed slightly and stood awkwardly in the door way. "Do you… want to talk about it?" he asked as he rubbed the back of his neck.

The mage's eyes roamed up his body, his pants changing to shorter, sharper bursts; Fenris looked down at his shirtless torso and could feel his cheeks blushing.

"I've never seen you…" Anders swallowed thickly. "You're beautiful, Fenris."

He gasped a little, the heat in his cheeks rose to the tips of his ears and he cleared his throat. "I shall… see you in the morning then."

"No, wait." Anders groaned as he ran a hand through his hair. "Could you stay? I don't mean…I just," he sighed. "I could use a friend."

Fenris nodded and closed the door, the fire was little more than embers but the moonlight filtering in through the tall window provided enough light for him to meander his way to the bed. Anders lay back down and Fenris settled in behind him.

"Sorry if I woke you," the mage mumbled.

"I wasn't asleep."

Anders turned to face him. "Do you often struggle to sleep?"

"Sometimes."

"Me too," he sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. "Obviously," he added with a chuckle. "Between the darkspawn, the Templars and the things I've seen with the Wardens and in Darktown it's a miracle if I get a few hours of sleep each night."

"I wake each hour and often check the perimeter of the mansion," Fenris admitted.

Anders looked at him again. "Slavers?"

Fenris nodded. "A habit I find hard to shake. I try to remain in bed for as long as possible but I know I won't get back to sleep until I have checked, so it is often easier to just do it and then return to bed."

"That sounds exhausting."

"I am used to it."

Anders gave Fenris a sad smile and warmth flooded to his crotch as the elf stared at his lips. He wanted to kiss him but his jaw was sore, his whole body was sore. By the morning he would have at least some of his strength back and could ease some of the pain. Anders stared at the lyrium coating Fenris' chest, the sinuous markings were beautiful and he wanted nothing more than to run his hands across them, to lick them…

"You may touch them, if you like," Fenris' said, his voice a deep rumble and yet surprisingly soft, like a sea of velvet rolling over crushed rocks.

Anders' eyes snapped up to the elf's moss green ones, an eyebrow cocked quizzically.

"I…" Anders' hand lifted slowly and made contact with the elf's skin; he shivered from the warmth and then traced his fingers over the lyrium that fanned out across his chest. It tingled under his finger and then it lit up, bathing them both in an eerie blue glow. He looked back up to the elf; his eyes were closed and he was sighing contentedly. Anders had never seen him so relaxed; he looked so young and carefree, so beautiful…

He let his hand travel up to the elf's neck, following the lyrium, Fenris moaned quietly as Anders ghosted his fingers up the edge of the elf's ear. He brought his hand down along the elf's jaw and stroked the lyrium on his chin. Green eyes watched him once more, dark and full of desire, and Anders licked his lips, his own eyes hooded.

He wasn't sure who moved first, perhaps it was mutual, but it didn't matter once their lips were touching. It was a tentative kiss, one full of uncertainty but it made his heart flutter in his chest. Anders leaned in closer, his hand tilting Fenris' head slightly to deepen their kiss. Fenris' hands found his hair and he kneaded his scalp pulling a moan out of his mouth. Fenris took advantage of his parted lips and his tongue darted in, tasting, exploring. Anders opened his mouth wider, ignoring the ache along his jaw, his tongue greeting the elf's eagerly.

Fenris pulled back first, panting against his lips. Anders opened his eyes to stare at him, shocked by the day's turn of events. This morning he had been minutes away from being made Tranquil now he was in bed with Fenris of all people… kissing him. He watched Fenris swallow and lick his lips, and desire burned through him. His hands were resting against Fenris' chest and he could feel the elf's hammering heartbeat.

"That was…" Anders was at a loss for words. Incredible, perfect, wonderful, unbelievable.

Fenris gave him a crooked smile. "It was."

He wanted to say something…but what was there to say? "I suppose we should try to sleep?" Not that I'll be able to after that!

Fenris gave him a small smile, nuzzling his head into the pillow. "I will remain at your side."

"Thank you." He smiled before rolling back over, sighing happily and closed his eyes.

…

Fenris woke up as the bed shifted and caught sight of Anders creeping out of the bed in a failed attempt to be silent. Fenris nearly laughed at his poor stealth skills; then again, Fenris was a very light sleeper. The mage crept toward the door and Fenris cleared his throat. Anders' eyes snapped to him in surprise and Fenris smiled in amusement.

"I wasn't… I was going to go downstairs to heal," Anders stammered.

Fenris sat up, stretching his arms above his head. "You can do it here."

"Magic hurts your markings though."

Fenris shrugged a shoulder. "I'll be fine."

Anders stared at the door for a moment before sitting back down on the bed. "Tell me if it gets too painful." Fenris nodded.

Anders closed his eyes as his hands began to glow; he moved them down his lower back, sighing contentedly as the magic worked through him. Fenris' markings started to glow faintly, ebbing in time with his heartbeat. For the first time in his life though they didn't ache, it felt… almost pleasurable. The mage's hands moved to his face in an attempt to reduce the swelling and bruising. A smile crept along his lips as he healed his black eye and then his wrists.

Fenris felt desire heating his belly once again. Being in such close proximity to the mage, seeing him as a person for the first time…it was intoxicating. Their shared kiss in the night had been the sweetest, most tender kiss he had ever received and as soon as it ended he wanted to go back for more. The only reason he had stopped was for fear of the mage's discomfort, his jaw was after all very heavily beaten. The thought of what would happen once the mage was fully healed had been playing through his mind all night. They were both clearly attracted to one another… Fenris could not deny that he wanted the mage. But what did that mean? Was it just sex he craved, or something more?

He realised the mage was staring at him, done with his healing, a broad smile on his face. "How do I look now?"

Fenris cocked his head to the side. The swelling had been reduced around his eye, the purple bruises were now more yellow and his lip was healed. "You are almost back to your usual, slightly wrinkled self."

Anders gasped and then laughed. "Don't let Varric hear that you have a sense of humour, he might just keel over."

Fenris' lip quirked slightly before he deadpanned. "I do not have a sense of humour."

Anders smirked. "Right, of course not, you only brood."

"I do not brood either."

Anders snorted. "Do you do anything?"

"Beyond helping Hawke, training and waiting for slavers to come for me? No."

Anders' expression saddened. "Can we add making breakfast to that?" he asked as his stomach rumbled loudly.

Fenris jumped out of bed and nodded. "Of course. My apologies."

Anders chuckled. "It's fine. We can make it together if you like?"

"You know how to cook? I must admit I am not very skilled at such things."

"I'm pretty good. It's not so different to mixing up medicines, I suppose."

"I fear I do not have many ingredients."

Anders slid off of the bed. "We'll make do." He grinned.

They made their way to the kitchen, and Fenris rummaged around for ingredients giving Anders a perfect view of his ass. Maker, he could not get the elf out of his head, which was understandable as he had slept next to him and now they were going to make breakfast together… but it was more than that, the kiss had ignited his yearning like a flame to paper. He had never seen Fenris like this, like a normal person, Anders' eyes had been opened and it was as if he was only just seeing the elf for the first time. And he really liked what he saw…the wry, dry sense of humour, the titbits of information about his past, the caring, tender side that Anders had never realised existed.

"Anders?"

Anders snapped out of his thoughts, Fenris was staring at him holding a box of eggs.

"Mmm?"

"You weren't listening."

"Not at all. Sorry."

"I said I have eggs."

"So you do. That's good, I can make eggs."

Fenris arched a black brow. "I did not realise you laid eggs. That would explain the constant clucking and strutting you do."

Anders' supressed his laughter and folded his arms. "I do not cluck or strut."

A smile spread across the elf's lips and Anders' heart skipped a beat. "Of course not, you just moan and whine."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" He lifted his nose indignantly and Fenris chuckled.

"These eggs will not make themselves, mage."

Anders laughed as he shook his head and took the box from the elf. "You can be my assistant. Do you have an apron you can wear?"

Fenris scowled at him.

"I am only worried that your chest will get splattered with hot oil…" Anders said around a smirk as he eyed the wonderfully bare expanse of Fenris' torso.

"I will put a shirt on."

"Oww," Anders moaned and the elf shook his head, lips quirking a smile.

Anders heated a pan over the fire while he waited for Fenris to get back. The elf had cheese and some herbs so Anders decided that omelettes would be the first course. He fully intended to have a couple of bowls of porridge afterwards - healing was hard work after all.

Fenris returned wearing a shirt as promised but he had an apron in his hands. "As you are head chef you can wear it."

Anders glanced at the bright pink apron and snorted. "I am not wearing that."

"You need to protect your sensitive skin."

"My skin isn't sensitive!" Fenris poked him in the chest and Anders let out a yelp. "That was a bruise! It doesn't count." Fenris smiled smugly and held the apron out for him.

Anders sighed and snatched the apron from his hands and tied it around his waist and neck, grumbling as he did so. "Happy?" he asked the elf who nodded, lips curled slightly. "Why do you even have a bright pink apron?" he asked as he added the eggs to the pan.

Fenris shrugged as he watched him cook. "It must have belonged to the previous owner."

Anders gave him a lopsided smile. "What other possessions did they leave behind?"

Fenris' brows knitted together slightly as he considered that. "Lots of hats."

Anders laughed and then smiled at the elf. "Have you tried them on?"

"No," Fenris replied sternly.

"What, not even for a second?"

Fenris narrowed his eyes at him. "No."

"Where are they?"

"I am not telling you that. And the eggs are burning."

"Oops!" Anders pulled the pan off the fire as he flipped his blackening omelette. "It's your fault. You're not being very assistanty."

Fenris let out a derisive snort. "I told you they were burning, didn't I?"

Anders rolled his eyes, grinning like a lunatic as he served up their slightly charred breakfast. They sat down at the table and tucked in.

"How are you feeling now?" Fenris asked him.

Anders finished his mouthful before replying. "Still a bit sore but definitely better."

"Do you wish to stay here another night? You are welcome to."

Anders bit down on his tongue from blurting out a loud yes. "I think that would be best. If I return to the clinic I will only overexert myself."

"Justice isn't urging you to return?"

Anders leaned back in his chair, frowning a little. "No. He is still quiet."

"Is he a constant voice normally then?"

Anders glanced at Fenris who was watching him with interest instead of disgust. "It is difficult to explain. Usually he just influences my thoughts and it's difficult to tell when he has. Other times he is almost screaming in righteous fury and it takes all of my willpower to hold him back. And that happens a lot; there are a lot of injustices in this city but I can't help everyone, I have to pick and choose my battles."

"Is that what it is like? A constant battle for control?"

"Sometimes."

"I had thought you weak minded when we first met, that you had turned to a spirit for selfish reasons… but you are stronger than I had realised. It is difficult to battle with one's self. When Hadriana showed up… my anger it was like a living, breathing thing raging inside of me and I could not control it." He stared at his hands, a scowl on his face.

"After what she did to you, I hardly blame you."

Fenris sighed. "I had hoped it would abate but if anything it is worse now."

The elf looked so… confused, Anders wanted to comfort him but a change in the subject would probably be better. "What about the sister she mentioned?"

"I have not written to her…I do not know what I would say."

"How about 'Hi, I'm your brother…'?"

"It is not that simple. Do you have family still?"

"Uhh. I haven't heard from my parents since I was taken away by the Templars." He ran a hand through his hair; it was down instead of tied up and definitely needed a cut.

Fenris cocked his head to the side, green eyes staring brightly at him. "Could you not write to them now that you are free?"

"It's not that – ah." He chuckled and the elf gave him a smug smile. "But I don't even know if they are alive, you know for a fact that you have a living sister."

"Do I? Hadriana could have been lying; she would have said anything to save her own skin."

"You won't know unless you contact her."

Fenris exhaled and rose to his feet. "I am going to train now. Thank you for breakfast. Help yourself to more; no doubt you are still hungry."

Ander smirked. "Are you calling me fat, elf?"

"Not in so many words." He gave him a wry smile and exited the room.

Anders ended up eating three bowls of porridge before finally feeling full. He wandered through the dusty corridors of Fenris' mansion and found the library. He smiled as his eyes scanned along the cobweb covered tomes, most were in Tevene but a few were in the common tongue. His eyes landed on one about the different herbs of Thedas and he pulled it out, and headed through the mansion to find the elf.

He stopped dead in his tracks, jaw dropping open as he found Fenris wearing just his tight leather leggings, dripping with sweat, his broadsword in hand as he swung it through the air with deadly force. His muscles were rippling and gleaming as he practiced his different attacks and stances. A moan passed his lips and the elf suddenly stopped, and turned to face him; Anders cleared his throat, trying to cover up his embarrassment.

"Like what you see, mage?" Fenris taunted, a deadly glint in his eyes.

Anders suddenly felt very small under that intense green gaze. "Oh uhm, I was just…really excited to read this book."

Fenris snorted.

"I'll just be over here, reading and not watching you at all, nope."

He swallowed thickly and took a seat on the other side of the room. He began reading the words on the page but none of them went in, instead his eyes wandered back to the elf who was balancing his sword out in front of him, holding it with just one hand. His muscles were trembling slightly and the sheen of sweat coating his body only served to define the hard lines of his muscles further. Anders was getting very hot and bothered from the show, and he was pretty sure Fenris bent over on purpose, exposing his ass to the air just to work Anders up some more. Just to confirm his suspicions Fenris shot him a smirk over his shoulder and then swung his sword effortlessly; the blade cut through the air with such speed Anders' hair was whipped away from his face.

Fenris came to a stop in front of him, skin glistening and chest heaving and Anders could only stare up at him, shifting in his seat slightly as he swallowed slowly. Fenris gave him a predatory grin before prowling away to go through his next set of stances. Anders slumped back against the chair, panting hard, his trousers tented by his attention seeking cock. Was this some kind of game now? Now that Anders was healed he had to wonder if they would continue where they left off last night. Maker knows he wanted nothing more.

He didn't last long watching Fenris train some more before he had to rush off to the washroom to take care of himself, not that it helped much, he was still hard as a rock. On his way back down he put the book back in the library and continued to rummage through some of the other tomes, hoping to find something a little more interesting than herbs, something that would keep him distracted from the gorgeous elf in the other room. He crouched down to skim through a box on the ground and pulled out a small book titled Pleasuring Your Elf. He frowned and then skimmed through the first few pages, eyes widening at the drawings it contained and his cheeks blushed scarlet.

"What is that you have there?" Fenris asked from behind him, Anders nearly jumped out of his skin and the book flew out of his hands. Fenris snatched it up before he could collect it.

"Nothing!" Anders said as he tried to grab the book back. Fenris stepped back gracefully as he examined the cover.

"This was the previous owner's?"

"It certainly isn't mine!" Anders squeaked.

Fenris opened it and frowned before a brow arched and he turned the book on its side in confusion, then his eyes widened in surprise. "This is…"

"Not mine, like I said. It looks like the previous owner was into some…interesting things."

Fenris' eyes were dark as they looked back at him. "You think this is interesting?" Fenris asked showing him a drawing taking up a double page spread.

Anders cocked his head to the side. "Well not exact– oh hey, I've done that before."

"The Templars?"

"What? Oh no! I did that by choice, in the tower with two other mages."

Fenris scowled at the page. "And that was…enjoyable?"

Anders could feel his blush spreading. "Absolutely."

Fenris lowered the book and stared at the ground. "You have a lot of… experience."

Anders took a step forward. "I suppose. It's just how it was in the Circle. None of it meant anything though. Have you never…hasn't there been anyone since you escaped?"

Fenris shook his head. "Did you do such things when on the run?"

"Actually that's how I got caught one time. There was this girl with – never mind, it doesn't matter." He shook his head at the delightful memory. "So…our kiss, that was your first?"

Fenris stared at him, green eyes guarded and unsure and he nodded. "First consensual one at least."

Anders stared down at him, heart breaking at the slightly lost looking elf in front of him. He cleared his throat. "And did you like it?"

Fenris' eyes hardened and he nodded. "Yes." Then he looked uncertain again. "Did…you?"

Anders gave him a lazy smile, closing the gap between them. "Yes," he breathed, hooded eyes wandering down over the elf's bare chest. His hand rose to tenderly cup the elf's cheek, his thumb rubbing circles along the soft flesh. His other hand pulled the book from Fenris' hand and he smirked. "Why don't we put this to good use? Lesson one in pleasing your elf –"

Fenris' lips crashed into his and he gasped in surprise. "The ears," he mumbled and Fenris kissed him harder, pushing him against the bookshelf, "are very," a tongue pushed into his mouth and he groaned, "Sensitive," he finished, panting hard against the elf's lips.

"Shut up, mage," Fenris growled as their lips met again.

Anders' hands found the elf's snowy hair, tugging it gently, giving him better access to the elf's mouth. His tongue savaged the elf, sucking on his tongue and pulling on his lips, drawing moans of pleasure from deep in Fenris' throat, a sound that instantly hardened his cock.

Anders' legs were pried open by an insistent thigh as Fenris pressed closer to him, crushing him against the bookcase. His entire body sung with desire and need. Fenris drew back briefly, and Anders gasped as the buttons of his silk shirt were ripped open. Fenris gave him a smug smile as he removed the shirt completely. Green eyes drank him in, growing darker by the second. Gone was all uncertainty from those green depths there was only hunger now.

Anders draped his arms around the elf's neck and pulled him up for a kiss, teeth biting playfully as their tongues tangled and coiled together in a sensual dance. Fenris' calloused hands roved over his body, caressing his stomach, brushing his sides and ghosting across his chest. With each touch a shudder ran through him or a moan left his lips, and soon his entire body was taut and aching for more.

Fenris growled as Anders grabbed the elf by the shoulders and pushed him against the bookcase, suddenly feeling very possessive of the gorgeous creature in front of him. He needed to taste him, to feel him, to please him, to thank him. His tongue licked down the lyrium on Fenris' chin, sucking gently; Fenris mouth opened, soft pants leaving his bruised lips. The lyrium tingled against his tongue and Fenris' brands lit up a fierce blue, the tingling on his tongue feeling almost electric now. He groaned as his tongue trailed down the elf's neck, sucking on the lyrium, Fenris shifted his head, exposing more of the vulnerable flesh to him. His teeth grazed along the thickest brand and he smiled as the elf hissed in pleasure, hands immediately clenching in his hair.

He planted kisses across his chest and began to lick across his dusky skin, enjoying the salty taste of his sweat and the intoxicating smell of musk and something woodsy and so very Fenris. His tongue circled the dark flat disk of the elf's nipple as Fenris continued to moan and knead his scalp with his lean fingers. Urged on by the sounds of pleasure the elf was making Anders took the pebbled nub into his mouth and sucked on it; Fenris' back arched as a long groan rumbled through his chest. Anders pinched and twisted its twin drawing gasps of delight from the elf.

He looked up at him as his tongue flicked across his nipple again; Fenris' eyes were shut as he continued to pant, his hair dishevelled with strands falling over his closed eyes. He was beautiful, pure and simple.

"Fen?" Anders' asked hoarsely.

The elf's eyes fluttered open and he stared at Anders through long lashes. "Mmm?"

"Did my healing magic hurt you earlier?"

Fenris tilted his head slightly. "No, it was…"

"Nice?"

Fenris nodded.

"I'd like to try a very weak spell on you…if you'll allow it."

"Is this the electricity thing Isabela is always begging you to use on her again?"

Anders chuckled against his salty skin, kissing his way back up to his mouth. "No, just a basic rejuvenation spell, I'll save the sparks for later."

"Very well then."

Anders smiled broadly but could tell Fenris was a little tense about the whole thing. "Relax," he whispered against his jaw, kissing up toward his pointed ear. His tongue swept across the elf's earlobe, he did it again as Fenris began to groan under his gentle ministrations. He sucked the lobe into his mouth, a shudder ran through the elf's body before his knees buckled, Anders caught him and held onto him as the panting elf clung to him. He tugged and nipped on the sensitive flesh, the elf's mewls of pleasure spurring him on. He licked up the side of the elf's ear and his tongue swirled around the delicate spot behind his now swollen lobe. He breathed into the elf's ear canal before his tongue darted in; Fenris hissed as nails dug into his back ripping a groan from Anders' lips. Their hips were moving together, their bodies rubbing together, searching for more contact, more friction, the fabric of their trousers separating them still.

Anders roamed his hands up the elf's bared chest, fingers gliding softly over lyrium, letting the magic flow out of his fingers. Fenris' reaction was violent and sensual; his head flew backwards, his back arched, and the most incredible cry left his lips in a rush as his markings ignited, bathing them both in blue. Anders increased the intensity of his spell, making Fenris groan through his ragged breaths whilst he gripped Anders tightly to stop from collapsing. His face was the picture of pure bliss. Anders had never seen him come so undone. He took his lips again as magic ebbed and thrummed across the elf's skin.

Fenris finally came down from the ecstasy of the mage's spell, it still flooded across his skin but his markings were no longer ignited by a white hot blaze of pleasure. It was more of a peaceful warmth now. He growled as the mage bit down on his lip greedily and in a flash he pinned the mage against the bookshelf instead, making the other man grunt. He reined in his desire, wanting to take his time with the still-sore mage. He kissed the edge of Anders' mouth, licking along the swollen skin where it had been broken and the mage whimpered quietly. He kissed along his jawline, stubble scratching his lips as he brushed past the discoloured skin. He planted a chaste kiss on the mage's nose, nipping the end slightly, eliciting a giggle from the blond man, before his tongue swept up the side of his nose, across his cheek bone, and up to his temple.

The mage moaned, his magical hands moving from his chest to wrap around his back, pulling him closer. He continued his attentions, kissing down Anders' neck, just as the mage had done. He bit down softly on the mostly healed bite mark and Anders groaned loudly, body quivering under him. He carefully lifted one of the human's wrists and pinned it at the side of his head as he licked along the scarred line of the healed gouge. He did the same to the other wrist and then kissed the mage's chest, blonde hair tickling his nose as he moved down to kiss his once bruised ribs.

When he looked back up at Anders the mage was watching him, eyes full of an emotion Fenris had never seen before and they glistened with unshed tears.

"Thank you," Anders whispered before swallowing thickly.

Fenris afforded him a small smile before turning the mage again so his back was bared to him. Anders shivered as Fenris pushed his hair gently to the side and began slowly kissing his neck. He kissed along his hairline, down to the nape of his neck, and then across his shoulders. He held one of Anders' hands against the bookshelf, their fingers entwined together as he licked along each and every scar on his back, stopping to pay extra attention to the darkest scar. His tongue travelled down the mage's spine to his lower back and kissed along the mage's waistband. Anders began to writhe and groan as he tugged on the delicate silk moving it down slightly, revealing the pale skin of Anders' ass. He pulled the silk trousers down a little more and planted soft kisses above the crack of the mage's cheeks.

"Please," Anders begged. Fenris stopped his kisses and looked up at the mage who had tilted his head to look at him. "Please," he said more firmly.

Fenris' tongue darted out to lick along the dark crack and the mage trembled, moaning under him. He kissed his tight pucker with the softest of kisses as Anders continued to vocalise his pleasure. He licked it more assuredly and groped the mage's cheeks, gently prying them open, revealing the wrinkled pink ring. The mage's magic had healed whatever damage had been caused and Fenris kissed him in earnest, tongue darting out to push into him; Anders cried out, hands gripping the bookshelf tightly as he shuddered.

Fenris pulled back and Anders moaned. He kissed his way back up the mage and then turned the human back around. Anders' cheeks glistened with tears and Fenris instinctively licked them away, cherishing the salty taste.

Anders' hand cupped his face, a sad smile on his lips. "Take me," he breathed.

Fenris stared into Anders' amber eyes, searching them uncertainly. "Are you sure?"

"We'll just take it easy. I can't really think of a better way to forget about what those bastards did to me than finding pleasure in someone else." His hand pushed a strand of his white hair behind his ear and Fenris took a shaky breath. "Are you sure about this?"

Fenris looked down a moment, he had never done this before, had never been with someone he wanted, it had always been whoever Danarius had told him to please. And that was his answer. He wanted Anders. He wanted this.

"Yes."

Anders gave him a teary smile. "Come with me," he said as he held his hand and walked out of the library. Fenris allowed himself to be pulled along, admiring the mage's bare ass as he did so. There was a sultry sway to the mage's hips and Fenris smirked. "You appear to be strutting again."

Anders stuck his tongue out him over his shoulder and they ended up back in the room with the sofa where he had tended to Anders' wounds. "There's only so much potions and balms can do, some injuries require the touch of another to fully heal," Anders said a half smile playing on his lips.

The mage pulled him gently down onto the sofa so Fenris was lying on top of him, their legs tangled together as they kissed again. Fenris' markings blazed blue as he felt every inch of the mage below him, the air around them fizzling and crackling. Anders' hands roamed over his back and travelled down to squeeze his ass which made him growl deep in his chest as a shudder was sent through him. Anders' hands travelled under his leathers and Fenris shivered at the skin on skin contact in such a vulnerable place. The mage's hands were scorching hot and set his blood on fire. He ground his hips into the mage, no longer able to control himself, desire ruled him now. Anders' responded in kind, his own hips rising as his hands groped and stroked his ass.

He growled again and sat up, pulling down his leathers to his knees; Anders stared at his now freed erection, eyes black with want, a tongue licking his lips. That look drove Fenris wild and he stared down at Anders' swollen cock, dark and dripping. Fenris kissed his way up Anders' leg, tongue teasing his knee before he licked up his thigh. The mage's hands were in his hair again, pulling insistently. Fenris bit down on Anders' inner thigh making him cry out, a smug smile forming on Fenris' lips. He ghosted his breath over Anders' hard length and then moved over to bite down softly on his hip.

"Fenris, please!" he gasped.

His tongue licked up the thick vein along the mage's hard shaft and Anders shuddered violently, a guttural groan sounding from his throat. Fenris kissed and licked his entire length and the jewels beneath before he finally paid the head attention, his tongue licking across the top, lapping up the bitter droplets. Every lick drew out a moan, a gasp or a groan from the mage's succulent lips. And then Fenris took his entire length into his mouth and Anders' bolted upright, eyes wide as he hissed.

"Maker's Breath!" he cried out as he slumped back down, breath hissing out through his teeth.

A smile curved at Fenris' lips and he watched the mage as his head dipped up and down; Anders' eyes were dark and hooded, mouth parted, his hands clutching the sofa's worn covers. He swirled his tongue along the tip as his hand moved to pump at the base of his hard cock.

"I can't, I'm going to –"Anders' entire body went rigid, back arching and hot liquid spurted into his mouth. Fenris pumped him dry, swallowing the thick cream. His eyes widened in surprise as Anders' cock barely shrunk at all. He stared down at the organ in confusion and Anders started to chuckle. "It's a Grey Warden thing. We might be here a while…"

Fenris licked his lips clean and growled as he took him into his mouth again, Anders crying out in ecstasy. He took him deep into his throat, his hand returning to pump him, his lyrium lighting up anew. The mage cried out again as Fenris' lyrium heated his already scorching skin. The mage came again, shuddering and panting. He was a quivering mess but his erection refused to abate, and Fenris' own engorged organ was aching, begging for attention.

"Fuck me," Anders breathed. "Please, Fenris."

"I do not want to hurt you…"

"I need this. I need you, please."

The mage's hands glowed and then a shiny liquid appeared in his hands. He reached down between his legs and began rubbing it into his flesh. He inserted two fingers into himself, moaning softly and Fenris watched on, completely mesmerized by the show. Anders' was gasping for breath as his back arched and a third finger went in.

And then Anders sat up and took Fenris' swollen length in hand, stroking gently, teasing him as he oiled him up. The contact with his skin was enough for Fenris to finally lose it, he pushed the mage back down and Anders lifted his knees to his chest, baring his ass to him.

Fenris lined himself up with the mage and looked at him before slowly pushing himself in. His head fell back as the heat of Anders' tight tunnel encased him, the mage groaned loudly and Fenris pushed all of the way in, both of them breathing hard. The mage's legs widened and Fenris moved down to kiss him softly, both of them panting against each other's lips. Anders snaked his hands through his hair and pulled him closer and then Fenris slowly drew out and pushed back in, the mage moaning breathlessly. With each thrust the mage's hips rose to greet him as their tongue's danced lazily together.

He changed positions, easing back up a bit so he could thrust into him with more force; Anders mewled and moaned beneath him, blond hair mussed up and cheeks flushed. He looked breath-taking and Fenris picked up the pace of his thrusts. Anders' hands travelled down to his ignored organ and he began pumping himself closer to release. Fenris groaned loudly at the sight of him stroking himself and he could feel his own release approaching as his belly tightened and burned, his muscles beginning to spasm.

Anders shuddered under him, hot seed spraying across his stomach and then he cried out as his entire body convulsed and tightened. The mage's muscles clamped down on his cock still sheathed deep inside of him and Fenris came undone with a roar, his seed filling the mage.

He collapsed down onto him, breathless and sated.

Anders ran his fingers through Fenris' white locks, listening to the elf panting against his chest. He was beautiful. His soul, his body, his personality, all of it was beautiful. Fenris' breath became more even and the elf lifted his head to look up at him, his chin resting on crossed arms. Anders smiled at him and leaned down to kiss him, the elf shifted, deepening it.

Anders sighed contentedly and then smirked. "You know… I wasn't supposed to overexert myself today."

Fenris scoffed. "A good thing I did all of the work then."

Anders grinned and kissed him again.