The first thing that caused Alistair pause was when he noticed he really liked watching Vincent's back muscles shift whenever he undressed. They would normally take baths in the lake at the same time for practicality reasons, so Alistair was on no shortage of seeing a naked Vincent. But then he found himself craving to see even more, yearning for the tide to shift just slightly so he could get a glimpse of anything beyond the man's torso.
Alistair knew he had to be going insane. He, of course, had never held any prejudice towards those who were gay, but the Chantry taught him that he was supposed to fall in love with a woman- and, of course, Alistair still found himself blushing over a good looking girl, but it felt different with Vincent. Rather it was in a good way or a bad way, he was unsure. He wished it could be as simple as asking Vincent what he was feeling. The man certainly made his interests in men perfectly clear by the way he ogled Zevran, so that was not Alistair's problem.
His problem was the look Morrigan gave him every time she caught him watching Vincent for just a moment longer than necessary. The look wasn't exactly judgmental or disgusted, but rather suspicious. He knew she was looking for just one more thing to make him miserable about. But he'd quite easily accomplished that himself by staying awake into the wee hours of the night wondering what was happening to him.
He'd never been attracted to a man before, but damned if it didn't feel right when he was around Vincent.
And now the red-headed man himself was sitting on the log across from Alistair, sharpening his blade. One of his strong hands were wrapped around the hilt of his sword, the other on a chisel. His knuckles were white and his muscles were strained against his white tunic, making Alistair's mouth all but water. He never thought he'd be this attracted to hands.
Alistair watched, gulping as his eyes followed a bead of sweat rolling down Vincent's forehead. Say something, Alistair demanded of himself. "S-So... How have you been?" His voice was unnaturally high-pitched and he realized then that he should have just shut up and watched and kept his hormones at bay.
Vincent peered up at him from under long eyelashes, his green eyes gleaming. He arched a brow. "Alistair, I haven't been out of your sight for the past two weeks. You know how I've been."
"R-Right."
The two men held gazes for a long moment before Vincent shrugged to himself and turned back to his work.
• • •
That was only the beginning of the several hundred slip-ups that followed. On another evening, when they were by the lake getting ready to bathe, Zevran had decided to join them. The physical relationship between Zevran and Vincent was not a secret, and it was not something Alistair approved of. He would suffer through a lot of things to make Vincent happy, but him having sex with his friend with benefits right in front of Alistair was where he put his foot down.
Thankfully, Zevran seemed to have other ideas. Alistair stayed off to the far side of the lake, unbuttoning his trousers but keeping his eyes trained on them. He could hear only semblances of their conversation from where he stood.
"Hold on. You don't think he... fancies me, do you?" said Vincent in a hushed tone.
Zevran chuckled mirthlessly. "And why wouldn't he? You are truly a sight to behold, and you're not too shabby in the bed either. Is it truly so surprising that he would be interested in the man he looks to for guidance?"
Alistair could feel his cheeks start blazing.
"I...suppose not," Vincent replied thoughtfully. "He's never... made any moves, though. I mean he gets kind of sweaty and blushes when he's around me but other than that, nothing. I don't understand why he can't just come out and say he wants me."
Alistair couldn't suppress the whimper that left his lips. Both of the men not far from him turned their heads sharply towards him, their expressions curious and confused. Alistair chuckled nervously. "There was a... a bee." He swatted at the air at an invisible insect.
"...If you say so." said Vincent uncertainly.
• • •
Alistair told himself every time he started having the urges to just kiss Vincent that this phase was going to pass. He prayed he'd wake up one morning and look at Vincent and say to himself, "You know what? This guy is like a brother to me. I want to do brotherly things with him, not kiss him and wear his clothes after intense cuddling."
...And then every time he repeated that sentence in his head, the urge to do just that became ever more prominent. He was almost at his breaking point and it was driving him crazy knowing that Vincent knew he was interested, but wasn't saying anything about it. He carried on with their friendship as if nothing was different, as if Alistair was still the straight boy everyone believed him to be. It hurt not knowing if Vincent could ever see him as anything more than a friend.
The following day during breakfast was when Alistair had to find something to help him. So, he did the one thing any desperate man would do: He went to Leliana. The bard was playing her lute next to a tree not far from camp, humming softly to herself as Alistair approached her from behind.
"Er, Leliana?"
Her fingers halted on the lute's strings and she turned her head to look at Alistair. A welcoming smile rose to her lips and she patted the spot next to her. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, yeah, everything's fine," He approached and plopped down on the ground next to her, crossing his legs with a sigh. "I can trust you, right? You won't go spreading my love life's business to the rest of the camp?"
She giggled. "Of course not. What's on your mind?"
He admittedly didn't know how to put this. He was comfortable enough with Leliana, and he knew she wouldn't judge him, but he just didn't know how to put it into words. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well...there's this...guy-"
"Vincent? Is it Vincent?" She looked like a child excited to find out the end of a fairy tale being told to her.
He sighed. "Yes, okay, it's Vincent. Am I that obvious?"
"I'm sorry to say, but... yeah, you're showing. I don't want to worry you, but it's become somewhat of a hot topic among the camp." Her smile was apologetic, but it offered no comfort to Alistair's sudden wide-eyed hysteria.
"A hot topic?" he whimpered, his cheeks heating up. He lost count of how many times he'd blushed in the past few weeks and he had long since given up on trying to stop himself. He accepted defeat.
"I promise, we- they never say anything bad about you. Besides, it's really just Morrigan and Zevran that participate. Sometimes Wynne will tell them to knock it off, other times Vincent will scoff and smack Zevran on the back of the head. The conversations never last long!"
He breathed a hesitant sigh of relief. He couldn't help but feel an overwhelming rush of satisfaction at the thought of Vincent sticking up for him and stopping the others from gossiping about him. Vincent knew more than anybody that Alistair hated being the butt of the camp's discussions.
He felt the corners of his lips tug into a goofy smile. The smile dropped abruptly and he groaned loudly, falling onto his back and covering his face with his hands. "I'm so screwed. I'm so- I'm just-"
"Just calm down, Alistair. Relax," Leliana said gently, chuckling. "You should tell him how you feel. I mean, it's obvious his interests rest completely in men. You aren't lacking in that area, you just need more confidence."
Alistair peeked through his fingers to look at her now that she'd piqued his interest. "How do I do that?"
"Just uh... be yourself. You can do that, right? But be blunt. Get him alone and tell him how you feel. Oh! And bring him a gift! Perhaps a flower or a nicer pair of shoes. His are getting quite... disgusting."
Alistair's eyes shot open as an idea struck him. He jumped up and put his hands on either side of Leliana's forehead, planting a big kiss on her forehead. "You're brilliant!" he exclaimed before scrambling to his feet and taking off towards camp, leaving a dumbfounded Leliana behind.
• • •
Alistair stood before Vincent's tent, mentally prepping himself for the worst. He fiddled with the red rose in his hands, praying it would be enough to at least turn Vincent's attention away from Zevran. Vincent was taking just a little bit longer than usual to answer Alistair's knock, which signaled red flags and made him want to turn away and forget this ever happened.
And he was about to do just that, but Vincent opened the flap to his tent before he had the chance. "Alistair," he greeted curtly, "come in." He stepped aside to allow him pass, and Alistair walked into the tent, rose in hand. He wondered if Vincent noticed.
Probably not, he told himself, you're the last thing on his mind. He was good at degrading himself.
"Did you need something?" Vincent asked, his eyes traveling to the rose in Alistair's hands.
"Yes. I mean... sort of. It's not important or life threatening or anything, I just uh..." He sighed and gave up, then thrust the rose out in front of him, handing it to Vincent.
Vincent's lips parted and he raised his eyebrows. "Why are you giving me this?" he inquired hesitantly, his eyes darting up to meet Alistair's at once.
"I had this entire thing planned out," He could sense he was about to start rambling, but he didn't care. "I was going to tell you about how I picked the rose in Lothering because it was the one beautiful thing in the midst of all this darkness and how I think the same when I look at you, but I'm just... I'm too nervous around you. I can't think straight and I just-"
He was silenced by a pair of soft lips brushing against his. His wide eyes slowly fluttered shut, savoring the taste of what he'd been yearning for for the past month. Vincent's calloused hands gradually placed themselves on his waist, and Alistair found himself placing his hand on Vincent's cheek out of sheer instinct.
The Chantry priests were wrong in one thing, at least. The kiss didn't feel anything near unnatural or wrong. Vincent's lips moved perfectly in sync with Alistair's, guiding the inexperienced lad into discovering he had a skill he didn't know he had.
It was over sooner than Alistair would have liked. Vincent slowly pulled his lips away, his hands still lingering on Alistair's waist. Their gazes touched and a smile rose to Vincent's lips.
"I've been waiting for you to come around," he said softly.
A grin spread involuntarily across Alistair's face and he chuckled out of relief. "You're just... really pretty." You sodding idiot, he scolded himself.
Vincent laughed and retreated from Alistair's body, much to his dismay. He graciously took the rose from Alistair's fingertips. "Thank you, Alistair."