The moment the door was closed, Anders' back was pressed against it. The stronger man's hands cupped his face and pulled him into a deep kiss. Anders clutched at Nathaniel's shoulders, and was helpless to resist as the rogue poured his long-restrained emotions into the kiss, which was at once wild and desperate and caring, and full of all the things he'd never said.

Finally he pulled away, hands still framing the mage's face, and looked into his eyes, and Anders saw his own need mirrored there. The mage slid his hands down Nathaniel's sides and stopped at his hips to pull him even closer, and leaned forward to capture his lips in another kiss.

Nathaniel let loose a soft groan against his long ago lover's lips as their bodies pressed together, and every movement created a delicious friction that set his skin on fire. And suddenly this wasn't enough. He needed more. He needed to feel that familiar burn of skin against skin, and he needed it now.

He pulled back and Anders looked distressed for a moment, before Nathaniel was ripping at the straps of his armor and shedding his clothes like they were ablaze. Anders grinned and tried to follow suit, but he wasn't quite quick enough. Nathaniel was on him in another moment, tearing his robes off and dumping them unceremoniously on the floor next to his own. They were both still clad in trousers, but they could deal with that a moment from now. At this moment, they needed to feel each other's skin or risk combustion.

Anders pulled Nathaniel close again, and this time his hands traced familiar lines down the other man's back. Nathaniel's hand snaked around the back of Anders' neck, and his other graced lightly on the mage's lower back. He pressed gently, pulling their hips together, and Anders' hands fluttered across his ribcage and came to rest on his chest.

Anders leaned forward to press his forehead against Nate's, and the archer saw a wicked look in the mage's eyes that was all too familiar. Anders grinned and pressed his lips against Nathaniel's, and then his hands started to move.

He trailed one hand down Nathaniel's stomach, savoring the way the muscles rippled beneath his fingertips. He slipped his fingers just beneath the edge of Nate's trousers, until he felt the first ticklings of hair, and pressed down firmly. Nathaniel fell against the other man, inhaling deep as he recovered his balance. Two could play at this game.

Nathaniel kissed along Anders' jaw to his ear. He sucked the mage's earlobe into his mouth and bit lightly, then let out a hot breath on his neck.

"I remember how much you loved to hear me talk to you." Nathaniel's voice was rough and hoarse in Anders' ear, and it sent a shiver of excitement down his spine and a flutter sinking low in his stomach. "I see you still enjoy it."

Anders could only let out a long, shaky breath in reply. Nathaniel chuckled darkly, and kissed a trail down the mage's neck to suckle that spot just above his collar bone that had always driven him wild. Anders clutched desperately at the other man's shoulders, and Nathaniel was not disappointed in this response. They'd both changed beyond measure since their years together at Vigil's Keep, but this was still the same. They still knew all the ways to make the other writhe and groan in pleasure, and that knowledge would keep them tethered together when nothing else could.

Their lips crashed together again, and now the trousers were too restricting, and their hands were at their laces, fumbling to undo them while still pressed together. Finally, for the sake of speed, they tore away from each other just long enough to kick off boots and remove the offending trousers and smalls. In the next instant they were tangled together again, touching every inch of skin they could reach, lips locked together like they were each drawing breath from the other.

They stumbled toward the bed, and Nathaniel's legs collided with the mattress first. He toppled backward and Anders followed him onto the bed, never breaking contact. Anders moved his legs to straddle the rogue, and continued exploring the other man's body with his fingertips, discovering old familiar scars and a few new ones.

Nathaniel tangled his fingers in Anders' hair, pulling it loose from its leather tie. He used to love running his hands through the mage's hair, and was delighted to find it as soft as he remembered. He fisted his hands and tugged, pulling Anders even deeper into their kiss. The mage groaned softly, then pulled away. He had plans, delicious plans.

Anders couldn't remember the last time he felt so content, or so close to another person. "You should pay me surprise visits more often," he sighed happily. Nathaniel stiffened beside him.

"I had worried you'd turn me away, that you wouldn't see me. I spent so long being furious with myself, I imagined you'd feel the same. I felt like I'd failed you, as your comrade. As your friend," Nathaniel said softly, and Anders tightened his grip around the other man.

"What happened wasn't your fault," Anders told him. "The blame lies solely with me."

"No, we should have said something sooner. I should have said something sooner. We all knew what it was, when Rolan showed up. We all knew the Templars had sent him to watch you, but no one said a blighted thing about it. And I thought it had killed you." Nathaniel's jaw was tight, and Anders didn't know what to say to him.

There was an awkward stretch of silence, until Nathaniel sighed and shook his head.

"All I'd hoped to do was apologize, and I made a blubbering mess of it," Nathaniel finally said.

"Perhaps next time you should skip the drinking and go straight for the sex," Anders helpfully advised.

"Ah, always thinking practically."

"Did you just make a joke at my expense?"

"Of course not. I was admiring your straightforwardness."

"Oh, good. I was beginning to worry you may have finally found a sense of humor."

"Never."

Anders chuckled lightly, and they lay together in far more comfortable silence after that. For a few blessed moments, Anders could almost pretend things could be the way they used to, but then he felt the muscles in his lover's stomach tightening, and his chest started to rise from the bed.

No, he thought desperately, Nathaniel was not going to leave yet. He pressed his weight against the other man's chest, preventing him from rising more, and looked up into the other man's eyes. Nathaniel's face held that blank, controlled expression he put on when he wanted to keep himself locked up, and Anders' heart fluttered in fear.

"Don't go yet," he entreated. "Stay with me tonight."

Nathaniel's features softened, and he looked at Anders with something that could have been love once. "Anything you wish," he answered, and kissed Anders softly, and he was breaking down inside with all the memories that came rushing back. But he forced his feelings down, and made himself smile. He was going to cherish these remaining hours with his Howe. The regrets could come later.

They pressed against each other, hands wandering and lips meeting once more. The fires built slowly this time, but burned just as hot.

In the morning, Anders awoke to find Nathaniel already up and pulling on his trousers. Anders rose to sit up in bed, and Nathaniel spared him a brief glance and a nod in greeting. Anders only stared. All the intimacy of the previous night had vanished when the sun rose.

"Will you be in Kirkwall long?" Nathaniel stayed focused on lacing his trousers, and Anders knew the answer to his question.

"I still belong to the Wardens," the rogue finally said.

"Of course, I didn't mean," Anders trailed off. He wasn't sure what he meant anymore. Nate was pulling on the last of his armor now, and he was going to be gone any moment.

Anders watched silently as Nathaniel tied his final straps and pulled on his boots, and didn't say a word even as Nate walked slowly to the door.

But Nathaniel paused there. His fingers tightened on the handle, and he turned to look at Anders over his shoulder. When their gazes met, all the breath rushed out of Anders' chest. Nathaniel's eyes were full of loss and emptiness and longing, for the way things once were, for the way they had once been. Anders knew, because he felt the same things in the pit of his chest.

"I'm the Warden-Commander now. I hadn't told you," Nathaniel said, sounding a bit unsure of himself. "Know you can always count me as a friend. If you ever decide to leave this place, if you ever need somewhere to go."

Anders nodded. He knew what Nathaniel was saying. "Thank you," he said simply, and meant it.

Nathaniel nodded. He twisted the handle and opened the door, and gave Anders one last sorrowful look, and then he was gone.

Anders waited a long time before he stood from bed and began dressing himself. Nathaniel had offered him guaranteed forgiveness for his crimes, and a welcome return to the Wardens, at least on the surface.

But their time together the previous night had only convinced Anders that life was gone from him forever. He could never go back, no matter what strings Nathaniel pulled. Things would never be the same for him there.

He had Warden blood on his hands, a monster in his mind, and he didn't deserve Nate's forgiveness.

Besides, there was still work to be done in Kirkwall.

A/N: If the scene in the bedroom seems like it ends abruptly, that's because it does. There's more to it that didn't really fit into FFN's rating system, and I don't want to post it because I don't want FFN to delete my story or my account. If the rest of this scene is something you'd like to read, PM me or review and mention it in your review and I will send you a link to the rest of the story, posted elsewhere on the internet.
Either way, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this story!