Original prompt was to take the following two phrases and run with them: "Zevran made love like a symphony." "Alistair was fire."
There are a bunch of different types of symphonies out there, but the one I went with for the main scene is the Italian symphony, which is broken up into three movements: fast, slow, fast. Hopefully that comes across well enough.
It had been a little over three weeks since the night they had partaken of Oghren's brew, and Zevran was feeling quite satisfied with himself. Alistair had proven to be an enthusiastic lover. Inexperienced he may have been, but his eagerness to learn had more than made up for it.
Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to overcome his shyness yet. Fearful of being found out by the others, Alistair was adamant that they not share a tent together. Zevran just didn't have it in him to tell his lover that everyone already knew. Natia's scathing lecture was the only thing that had stopped them from teasing him mercilessly.
So they had had to settle for a few brief, if passionate, sessions of kissing initiated on the pretense of gathering wood for the fire or water for cooking the evening meal. Zevran would have been more than happy to take those moments further, but Alistair's full plate armor was not conducive to brief trysts in the woods.
There was also that night spent at the Spoiled Princess, where they stopped on the way back to the Circle Tower to ask Irving to take that Dwarven lass Dagna on as an apprentice. It was there that Zevran noticed the difference between himself and the ex-templar, when it came to intimacy.
Zevran made love like a symphony; fast and passionate at the beginning, then steadily decreasing in tempo. Controlled and measured, bodies moving in unhurried harmony. Then an increase in pace to reach an intense crescendo, before smoothly bringing both partners to the finale.
Alistair…well, Alistair was like fire. Fierce, wild, uncontrollable. Beginning at a frenetic pace, and burning quickly until both were consumed and sated. While Zevran wholeheartedly approved of this, he wanted to teach the young man the pleasures of taking one's time. Alistair had so far taken the lead in all of their dalliances, and Zevran felt it was time for them to switch positions, so to speak.
He finally found his opportunity when they reached Redcliffe Castle. All of the treaties had been fulfilled, all allies recruited. Now they needed to report back to Arl Eamon so they could set off for Denerim and call the Landsmeet.
The closer they came to Redcliffe, however, the more tense Alistair became. Zevran knew well enough the reason why; Eamon had made it very clear that he wanted to put Alistair forth as king, something that the young man was very much against. Natia so far had kept quiet about whether or not she agreed with the arl.
Upon arriving at the castle they met with Eamon to discuss their plans for the Landsmeet, and how they would deal with Teyrn Loghain. The more they talked, the more Zevran found himself disliking the arl. Zevran knew from talking with Alistair that the man had paid little enough attention to him when he was a child, relegating him to sleep in the stables and shipping him off to the Chantry at his wife's demands. It seemed the only reason he wanted Alistair to take the throne was because he had Theirin blood in him.
Zevran wasn't sure why this bothered him so much, why he cared that Eamon was playing Alistair like a puppet. He was certain that the arl would pronounce himself chancellor to the king, and use his power to influence the young man.
But Zevran had no interest in politics, especially not those of Ferelden. In Antiva, it was of little importance who wore the crown, it was the Crows that held the true power. So why did he care that Alistair was seemingly being manipulated by the arl?
The answer was simple enough, though he hated to admit it even to himself: he had grown fond of Alistair, far more than he was comfortable with. At the beginning Zevran had regaled Alistair with stories about his various assassination assignments just to horrify the Chantry-raised man, an endeavor which was extremely successful. But as more time passed and their friendship grew, he found himself actually opening up to him.
One night when they were on guard together he told Alistair about Rinna, a story he vowed he would never share with anyone. Alistair seemed shocked at first, but when Zevran finished with his story the young man did something completely unexpected; he wrapped his arms around the elf in a tight hug. He didn't say anything, no words of condemnation or even forgiveness, simply held him.
The embrace had felt strange, but not unwelcome. And that night they had both come to an unspoken understanding. Alistair no longer judged Zevran for his past deeds, and Zevran stopped considering the man's kind and compassionate nature a weakness.
OoO
"Zev!" Startled out of his musings, Zevran turned to see Natia looking at him. "Are you coming to dinner or not?" Apparently she had been trying to get his attention for some time. Zevran nodded and followed the dwarf into the dining hall.
During dinner, it was obvious to Zevran that Alistair's tension had not abated. Of course, Zevran's solution to relieving stress was fairly straightforward—a long night of lovemaking should do the trick nicely. He began to set his plan in motion.
He was seated next to the warrior, so it was easy enough to begin his seduction. Lowering his hand into the man's lap he began to caress his inner thigh, smoothing down the fabric of the breeches he was wearing. Alistair sucked in a startled breath, but made no other indication of the elf's ministrations.
His silence didn't last long. "Aaaaghhh!" Alistair let out a surprised yelp as Zevran moved to rub his hand against Alistair's growing erection.
"Alistair, are you alright?" Bann Teagan looked at him with some concern.
Clearing his throat Alistair managed to reply. "Fine, fine. Just got a cramp in my leg, that's all." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to squirm out of Zevran's hand—which incited the elf to add a bit more pressure to his massage.
Leliana clapped a hand over her mouth to hide a giggle. Her eyes filled with mirth as she looked at Zevran. Clearly she had some idea as to the real reason for Alistair's discomfort. Zevran gave her a sly wink.
"Are you sure?" Teagan asked. "You look a bit flushed."
Zevran looked at Alistair with feigned concern. "Teagan is right, you do look unwell. Perhaps you are just a little…tired?" With that last word, Zevran gave him an extra firm squeeze. "You should get some sleep, I think."
Alistair seemed to catch on to Zevran's not-so-subtle hint. "Um, yes, it has been a long day." He stood and gave an over-exaggerated yawn. "I uh, think I'll just, uh, go to my room. To sleep." He made a hasty exit, probably so no one would notice the bulge in the front of his breeches.
After waiting a few minutes, Zevran excused himself as well, tipping one last wink to Leliana as she whispered "Have fun."
A quick stop to his own room to gather a much-needed item, Zevran then headed to Alistair's room. The moment he closed the door Alistair was upon him, his lips crushed against the elf's in a frenzied kiss.
Determined not to let the warrior have the upper hand, Zevran twined his fingers into the man's hair to gently tug him away.
"Not tonight, caro," he whispered into the warrior's ear, "Tonight I shall lead the dance."
A stiffness in Alistair's posture showed Zevran that he was not quite comfortable with this change of roles, but the shiver that followed indicated he was not wholly opposed to the idea.
Zevran ran his tongue along the edge of Alistair's ear, ending with a light nip to the lobe. He cupped the man's cheeks with both hands and leaned in for a kiss that quickly deepened. Alistair was still making an attempt at control, delving into the assassin's mouth with his tongue. But each time he pressed in too far, Zevran would pull back, keeping the kiss passionate but gentle.
Slipping his hands beneath Alistair's tunic he pulled it up and over his head. He moved his kisses from his lover's lips to his neck, then to his chest. He slowly ran his tongue along one nipple while tweaking the other between his fingertips. Alistair sucked in a breath when he bit down, pulling the nub between his teeth and suckling it.
He turned his attention back to the warrior's mouth, using his tongue to map the inside and occasionally tugging at his lower lip with his teeth. Slowly he walked the man backwards, never once breaking the kiss, before pushing the man onto the bed. Zevran removed his own shirt before crawling on top of Alistair to sit straddling his thighs.
"Zev, what…?" There was a look of apprehension in Alistair's eyes-this was edging out of his comfort zone, Zevran knew.
"Sshh, caro. Allow me to tend to you tonight. Let yourself go." Zevran leaned down, pulling him into a deep kiss. His other hand trailed down Alistair's chest before settling on the front of his breeches. Undoing the laces, he slipped his hand inside and began stroking Alistair's length.
He moved his kisses slowly downward, stopping to nip at the juncture between hip and thigh. He felt hands twine in his hair and pull him slightly to the left. Zevran grinned and obeyed the unspoken request, wrapping his lips around Alistair's cock.
A few licks at the tip and then he took Alistair's length completely into his mouth, burying his face in dark blond curls. Settling his hands on the man's hips to keep him from bucking he moved his mouth up and down, licking and suckling while Alistair moaned with pleasure.
He brought Alistair to the brink of release, and then removed his mouth completely. Ignoring Alistair's pleading whines he pulled the man's breeches the rest of the way off and then stood up to remove his own, pulling the bottle of oil out of the pocket before tossing them aside.
He crawled back onto the bed and stretched out along Alistair so their bodies were pressed full-length against each other. Moaning at the sensation of their erections rubbing together, Zevran whispered into Alistair's ear. "What do you want caro?"
"You." Alistair panted. "I want you."
"And where do you want me, hmm?" Zevran bucked his hips.
Alistair swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I want you inside me." He whispered. "Please Zev, please." Zevran's eyes burned with desire at the pleading in the man's voice.
He opened the bottle of oil and dribbled a small amount onto his fingers. Kissing Alistair deeply he reached down between his thighs, brushing against his entrance. He continued rubbing in small circles until he felt the muscle relax, then pressed his fingertip inside.
Alistair hitched in a breath. "Relax." Zevran murmured, and began thrusting his finger in and out. After a few moments he inserted a second finger, rubbing his other hand along Alistair's chest, soothing him. He could feel Alistair rocking his hips in rhythm with his own thrusts, encouraging him deeper. He crooked his fingers and Alistair cried out. "Zevran! Maker's breath!"
Another press against that pleasurable spot caused Alistair to moan and thrust his hips, and then Zevran removed his fingers completely.
Taking up the bottle again he reached out for Alistair's hand and poured a small amount onto his palm. Alistair grasped Zevran's length and slid his hands up and down; making sure his cock was fully coated with the slick oil.
Zevran leaned forward until his hardness was pressed up against Alistair's entrance. "Breath, caro." He murmured, then began slowly pushing himself inside. Seeing the slight look of pain on Alistair's face, Zevran paused for a moment, allowing his lover to adjust. Once his face had relaxed again he began pushing again until he was fully buried inside.
Another pause and then he slowly moved back, almost pulling out completely before thrusting back in just as slowly. Zevran noted that Alistair's moans were now of pleasure rather than pain and he picked up the pace, but only slightly.
"Zevran, please, faster." Alistair moaned, tipping his head back, the cords in his neck standing out.
Zevran complied and smoothly picked up the pace, speeding up his motions gradually until he was pounding deep inside his lover with rapid thrusts.
Alistair was nearly shouting with ecstasy. "Yes! Zev…oh Maker…yes!" Zevran was moaning with pleasure, immersing himself in the feeling of the deliciously tight heat wrapped around him.
One hand still holding Alistair's hip, he moved his other to grasp the man's cock. Reveling in the pleasurable moans this pulled out of the warrior, he began a firm stroke in time with his thrusts.
Raising himself up just a bit had him hitting that sweet spot again and Alistair howled. "Oh, Zev, please, please!" Zevran continued pounding inside the man, stroking him roughly. Alistair dug his nails into Zevran's back and cried out as he spilled his seed onto his stomach and Zevran's hand.
Two more thrusts, three, and then Zevran was crying out with his own orgasm, releasing deep inside his lover. Panting with exhaustion Zevran eased them apart before stretching out next to the warrior. Alistair rolled over and wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in the elf's chest.
Zevran tilted the man's head up and kissed him until they were both breathless. "So, I take it you enjoyed that?" Zevran said, his tone sly.
Alistair chuckled. "Maker Zev, that was incredible. You definitely need to take control more often."
Alistair settled his head back onto Zevran's chest sighing contentedly. As they both drifted off to sleep, Zevran congratulated himself on conducting another masterful performance.