Carver sat on the low wall which encircled the practice grounds and watched as Fenris sparred with the Knight-Captain. It was a hot summer's day and both men had foregone their usual armour in favour of a simple shirt and breeches, which meant that he had an uninterrupted view of the elf's sleek, muscled body.
He felt his breath catch in his throat as he caught sight of Fenris as the elf removed his sweat-soaked shirt and tossed it aside on the grass. Maker, the man was beautiful! Carver could not help himself, his gaze followed the tracks of the white lines of lyrium tattooed into the elf's body and wondered where would they end up? Did they go everywhere? Did the lines go all the way ... there? He felt himself grow hard at those thoughts and this in turn caused his ears to burn and cheeks redden!
He shook himself awake from his daydream just in time to see the practice session had ended and Fenris walked towards him with a small smile on his face.
"Carver! I didn't see you there earlier. You should have told me you were free today, I would have enjoyed training with you!"
Maker, he was grateful to have been sitting down, or his knees would have given in for sure!
"Umm, yeah... I didn't – I wasn't – umm, sure, maybe next time?" he managed to stammer.
Fenris did not seem troubled by his lack of coherence, merely smiled (Maker, that smile!) and nodded "next time then, take care of yourself, Carver Hawke."
As soon as the elf was out of sight, Carver groaned and dropped his head in his hands. Why did he always screw things up by acting like a bloody teenager around the elf? He so wanted Fenris to think he was cool and in control, not a jumbled-up bag of nerves.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he did not hear the footsteps behind him. He almost jumped out of his skin at Fenris's voice next to his ear.
"It is amusing to see you blush, maybe I should undress for you more often?"