Warning: Copious amounts of sexual frustration ahead. Also it's gay so yeah.
When the Warden isn't having horrendous dragon nightmares—
He is having uncomfortably arousing wet dreams about his most-likely-straight-as-an-arrow fellow Warden, Alistair.
He never gets sleep.
He loves Alistair so much it hurts ahhh. Feel free to insert any name/species/specialization for the Warden that you like as you read this xD Liam is a human warrior but whatevs.
He leaned against a tree, cleaning off his sword as he heard snapping of twigs and scraping of boots on the dirt, coming towards him. He didn't have to look up to know who it was. He'd been obsessed with the man ever since he had met him at Ostagar, and he'd spent enough time focusing on him that he recognized the very way he walked.
He knew every way that Alistair moved, how he was feeling when he moved a certain way, and these helped him to predict what the man's words would be even before he said them. That way, he could formulate a response fast enough, and keep his feelings locked deep inside. He could deal with this. It was no big deal. Just focus on the task at hand, and stop thinking about how badly you want those strong arms around you, those lips on yours...
He wrenched his mind back from those treacherous couple seconds of wandering, and focused again. It took a few seconds before he realized there was something slightly off about the man approaching him. There was a feeling that he'd never felt from the man before. What was it...?
He looked up, keeping his confusion hidden. He acknowledged his friend with a small nod of the head, then noticed the look on Alistair's face.
He looked... hungry.
He swallowed. Something was up. What was up? His mind raced as he tried to figure out a proper response. This was alien, something he could never even imagine Alistair doing. So why...?
"Liam... I have to tell you something."
He swallowed again. Why was he swallowing, when his mouth was so dry?
"I've been wanting to tell you for a long time... but I didn't know how. I figured, what the heck. I'll just say it right out." He stepped closer, slowly closing the ever shorter gap between them. Liam could almost feel the man through the slight chill of the night air.
"I want you."
Liam's heart could have exploded in his chest and it would have been more comfortable than its constant hammering. Did he hear that right? Were his ears working correctly? Or was he so incredibly fixated on this man's lips that he made up words to come out of them? Or maybe it was the fact that he had barely slept for the past few weeks because of both his horrendous nightmares, and his unbearable pining for this man. Said sleep-deprivation made him miss the part where Alistair brought a hand to his face, and pulled him in for a kiss.
Where were they? Had he died and gone to heaven? Apparently it didn't matter, because he was kissing right back in no time. Was this real? No, this was another stupid wet dream that he'd wake up to and be horribly frustrated from.
But Andraste's blood, his lips felt good. Could he seriously imagine this? No. Impossible.
Alistair pulled away, lightly panting. "I want you harder than anyone has ever wanted you before, I want you to understand this." He pulled him in for another, deeper kiss, before pulling away just far enough to break contact. "I'll show you just how hard I've been wanting you. I'll make you feel it so deep inside that the feeling never leaves you."
Liam found himself reaching forward to kiss him again, but those strong arms had him pinned to the tree and he didn't have the concentration to even try to move. When Alistair kissed him again, he moaned against his mouth. Was this real? Could a hallucination really make his head pound and his heart hammer and his cock throb this badly? Everywhere Alistair touched him lit up like fireworks—and Alistair was touching him all over. One part after another—his lips, his chest, his back, his ass—every new touch made him forget the last, and he forgot how painfully his cock was throbbing until Alistair ground up against it with his own. He gasped for breath, the air between them slowly growing hot and suffocating. With his sword lying on the ground, forgotten, and his head filled with a thick haze, all he could think was please, fuck me, you sexy royal bastard.
Somehow, they made it onto the ground inside his tent. Or maybe it was Alistair's tent, he couldn't tell. It was all moving so fast, and he couldn't bring himself to stop it. Did Alistair really want this? How had he not seen any sign of it before? As Alistair half-laid on top of him, his mouth assaulting his own, it was hard to think of anything deep, other than how deep he wanted this man inside him—
A cold hand up his shirt disrupted his simple thoughts, and Alistair bit down lightly on his collarbone. He let out a small whimper, more from frustration than from pain. The cold burned his sensitive skin as Alistair pulled away, tugging his shirt up over his navel. It was so bloody close to what he wanted Alistair to be touching. But Alistair was taking his time. How was he even any good at this? He's a virgin? Really? Impossible. His constant denial of the reality of this situation kept him focused enough to not pass out when Alistair claimed his lips again, and then palmed his erection.
His hips jerked at the sudden touch, and he moaned into the man's lips. Maker's sodding tits, what made him think that was okay!? And Alistair didn't stop there. His hand kept the contact and started to move up and down, massaging him through his trousers. Liam's moan grew in duration when he realized this. The heat between them was stifling, and the pleasure pooling in his pelvis drew away most of his concentration on anything. He managed to lift up his hand from where it had been gripping the blankets beneath them, and he pushed back on Alistair's shoulder. The dirty blond pulled his mouth away from where it had been attacking his neck, and lifted an eyebrow. Liam tugged at his shirt, trying to pull the frustrating cloth over his head, and frowned when Alistair took over. He pulled both their shirts away and threw them somewhere into the oblivion that was not the very intimate exchange between them. And then he claimed Liam's lips once more, still massaging him through his trousers.
Liam was going to have a damned heart attack if this went on. He slid his hand between them and tugged at Alistair's drawstrings, not-so-subtely suggesting that Alistair should get on with it. Alistair smirked against his lips, and pulled at his breeches, tugging them open and reaching inside to grip his erection. Liam gave a breathy moan—he hadn't even gotten Alistair's sodding pants open. But he did feel the hardness trapped within the pants. It was maddening, and he whimpered softly as Alistair stroked him. He couldn't even control his own damned hand.
Alistair was nice enough to help him after a little bit, that stupid, cocksure grin of his plastered on his face. Liam panted, then pulled Alistair's head back down to his, the kiss filling him to the brim. He gripped Alistair's erection, and felt the man move against his hand. The resulting moan that exhaled from Alistair's lips reverberated all the way down to his groin, and he gripped the back of Alistair's head firmly in place as he kissed the man over and over.
Alistair broke away to breathe, and attacked his neck again. He moaned into Liam's neck as he ground himself against Liam's hand. Liam keened, bewildered that Alistair could still stroke him amidst everything else. Alistair was in control of everything. It was completely different than the way he usually was.
It was just the way Liam preferred it. Alistair could do whatever the sodding hell he wanted, as long as he kept moving against him like that, and kissing him with those lips, and just being so damned perfect.
He wouldn't even make it past this stage, and he doubted Alistair would either. It was just too damned hot, and so, so perfect. He felt Alistair speed up his strokes, and his movements against him grew urgent. Liam's groin tightened as the pleasure built up on itself, sending waves through his body all the way to his brain. His breathing grew erratic and shallow. He was so close, he—
His eyes opened.
He sat up, breathing hard, his heart pounding in his chest. His mind raced as his body shook from the adrenaline. What the hell just happened? Why was he waking up, and why was Alistair not—
… He remembered. He remembered with great and frustrating detail his entire dream, and sighed in irritation. His cock was so hard he could probably come in a minute, but he had no desire to anymore. Not without Alistair.
He calmed his breathing and his violent heartbeat, and laid back down. He had to do something. What did he have to lose? He'd tell him later. Then maybe he could get some sleep for once.
And if Alistair wanted in his pants afterwords, then everybody wins. He sighed, and readied himself for a new day of painful sleep-deprivation and pining.