As pieces of armor hit the floor one by one, sounds of metal clashing against the wooden floor and laughter filled the room as the two middle-aged men found it extremely amusing undressing one another. Both were covered in layers upon layers of protective gear, but it was Cullen who found flesh first by opening a thin, white, silk robe which had been hidden under three or four thicker, worn-out linen ones and unraveling an old bandage from around the mage's midsection. Hawke also located the commander's skin as well after pulling apart the leather-tied strings of a weathered, but still well-padded, doublet and tugging a simple undershirt over his head.

"Scars," they said to each other in near unison as they both had marks on their bodies which weren't there four years ago. A brown index finger traced down a short diagonal line near Cullen's waist just left of the man's navel.

"Sword wound?" was asked as deep breath was taken to flex the muscles there.

"Indeed. Before Cassandra recruited me from Kirkwall, one of the recruits turned on me because I wouldn't let him kill a young mage I was helping escort out of the city," was sighed in remembrance. "The girl was only seven years old, had just left her home only weeks before the Rebellion. When I stood between her and another Templar's sword, I was run through. I found her hovering over my cot later, crying her eyes out and trying desperately to heal me with what little magic she could manifest. I placed her in the care of other mages when I joined the Inquisition. I may not have fully understood why you defended them when Anders attacked the Chantry, but I do now. The Circle didn't just hold veteran blood magic users. There were also children there, some barely into their primaries like she was, but we were told to kill them as well. You…understood that." It was then his turn to trace his fingers over Hawke's chest where he caressed a small, but fairly fresh mark. It was only a few centimeters long, likely from a short dagger, but how close it was to his friend's heart concerned him. "And you? This is likely to have an interesting tale attached."

"Sure," was shrugged smugly as he slowly squatted down to kiss on Cullen's body where the new scar he had found was. "I got stabbed. End of story." While the commander frowned at the brush off, he remained still as his smallclothes were pulled from his waist and the kissing continued around more sensitive areas. Maybe it was the scotch that allowed for such complacency or the sad truth of not letting anyone near him in such a vulnerable state for over a year. Whichever it was, he forced his hands away from Hawke's nude body to hold himself up against the wall as his groin was licked and teased to a full, throbbing erection.

A few groans released from the back of his throat as his inner, muscular thighs were scratched. Looking down, he caught the lustful glimpses of those strangely-illuminated, seafoam pupils looking up at him. While being started at, Hawke would bounce the pink tip against his tongue on purpose to give the man a good show until the one watching became too flustered to continue looking. It was an intricate dance between embarrassing the highly aroused blonde and genuinely working with his nether regions to send him over the edge in uncontrollable pleasure. It didn't take long for his first load to be sprayed inside of the mage's mouth. The sheer amount choked the receiver to where the rest had to be squirted over his lips and chin.

"Been awhile?" Hawke taunted as he stood up presumably to gather his own armor to leave even with his own erection pulsating, but was instead spun around and landed on his back on top of the bed.

"You think you can get away that easy?" Cullen asked as he crawled on top of the champion, kicking off his still lowered undergarments.

"Thought crossed my mind… Templar or not, wouldn't it be strange if someone found us tangled up like this?"

"I don't remember you protesting about that happening the first time," the scarred lips grinned. "And if the Seekers couldn't find you just a few klicks from Kirkwall, I'm pretty sure no one is going to suspect to look for you in my chambers… If they do, well, you did lock the doors…" Hawke grunted in response, already won over by the pecks and nips to his neck. Sensual biting was a weakness of his and it didn't help how the man pinning him down already knew that about him. It continued south to his chest, where Cullen stopped to stare at the potentially fatal wound once again, but decided to run his tongue over it while licking his way back to soft, dark-pink lips.

As they easily slipped into heavy and sloppy kissing, his callused left hand moved to interlock his fingers with the mage's and used it to his advantage to pin Hawke's arm above them while his right one slid down the champion's side, eventually finding its way between the pair of toned, tan-colored thighs. It was a clumsy gesture, Hawke thought as his sex was stimulated the way he assumed the commander would touch himself. There were slow up and down strokes at first, followed by some twisting around the knob and thumbing at the dripping slit. Any notion of pre-cum was squeezed out to use as lubrication all while his mouth, ears, and neck where still being nibbled. Cues were taken at how much he would moan and distort or how tightly he squeezed the hand being held in return. The grinding against the swollen head forced him to gasp for air and spill more juice between the fingers holding it. Feeling his own sex stiffen once again at the painfully erotic scene, Cullen was soon aching to plunge his cock it whatever hole he could.

"What are you waiting for?" he was asked as the panting body underneath him grew increasingly restless and wiggled about with spreading legs to make it even more obvious as to what was being referred.

"…But you're not… prepared and mine is… over there," he whined in return as he looked to a far table with a few bottles of salves and potions. One of which was his small container of moisturizer he would claim was for his dried-out skin due to the cold before he would admit to the other private uses for it. "Silver one to the left." Looking over, Hawke's eyes glowed briefly as the little canister levitated and floated over to be within reach.

"Mages," the commander shook his head with a smile, but promptly took what he needed from the air and popped the lid. Inside was a white-orange cream he took a dab of on his fingertips before tossing the rest of the canister to the floor. Reaching down, it was smeared over the accessible puckered opening and on his own hardened organ. Once lining himself to enter, he took Hawke's other hand to pin it above the pile of white hair as well. "I used to tell my recruits that your type didn't need to use their hands to cast spells, but I wonder if you'll be just as capable in this scenario." Before an answer could be said, he kissed again Hawke again, but the sharp pain of being inserted into made him bite down on the invading lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Cursing, Cullen pulled away just enough to be out of danger, but their noses still touched as he continued to pound away at the trapped man underneath him. The headboard bounced repeatedly off the stone wall and the floor creaked as it was about to fall apart right from underneath them. Locking eyes once more, he cried out as his seed spilled for a second time. Hawke winced from the sensation as he soon followed with his own eruption, his body clenching around the member still buried deep inside.

Panting, his fingers were slowly released as Cullen pulled out and rolled over onto his back with a leg hanging off the edge of the bed. The yellow curls of his hair stuck out like tumbleweed and became the source of Hawke's amusement as he snickered while attempting to flatten them back down in vain while the mage's own hair also stuck up in wild spikes with his overgrown bangs glued to his forehead from sweat which Cullen brushed away with a smile before leaning in for another much sweeter kiss this time. "Was that a thank you?" he was asked half-jokingly while being looked down upon.

"More like a you're welcome, I would think."

"And people say you don't have a sense of humor, Rutherford. So, time to ruin the mood with seriousness then?" He was given an animal-like head nudge before being rolled on top of to be stared at. "When is the last time you took your lyrium, Templar?" Hands automatically went to cup the brown-skinned rear when he was laid down upon, but his teasing stopped as he was asked such a question.

"…How did you…?"

"Your blood. I could taste it… or I should say, I couldn't taste it. Firstly, I'm a mage, so don't ask me how I can taste it. Secondly, I did have a… relationship with someone who had lyrium embedded into their flesh. Briefly. I also understand that blue lyrium may be in short supply, but surely you can…"

"I am not a Templar. Not anymore… and it isn't a lack of supplies, Seren. I have simply stopped taking it."

"What?" Surprised, Hawke moved his hands to push the upper part of his body up to hover over his bed partner. "What do you mean you stopped taking it? Cullen, you can't just…"

"I did, alright? It's done."

"But you'll go into withdrawal and…"

"I'm already in withdrawal… and that's my problem."

"But you'll die!" With a patient sigh, Cullen closed his eyes.

"Again, that's something I have to risk… Hawke? Seren, come back to bed," he mumbled as the mage had stood up in a huff to pace in frustration.

"You just told me that you're willing to die because of lyrium! We have enough to worry about with rifts, the sky being torn apart, demons, darkspawn, and Maker knows what else, but now I have to worry about you killing yourself?!" Growling, he took a particular offense to being yelled at and stood as well to grab the ranting man by the shoulders.

"Me? You're the one who runs off with the apostate that blew up the Chantry, disappeared for a year, and only now came with a stab wound which barely missed your heart that you refuse to tell me about! Aren't you being just as reckless?" Pressing his lips together into a thin line, the champion pulled away once his scar was mentioned and looked to the ground.

"…It's just a wound. Plenty of people were trying to kill Anders after what happened. Varric wrote Tales of the Champion for my sake, complete with a version of me that looks nothing like I do really. No one recognized me once we separated from other Kirkwall mages…"

"Yes, and I am grateful he described you as a giant man with pitch-black hair, pale skin, and the beard of a dwarf, but if you really received that wound from protecting Anders, you would have just said so…"

"Don't forget how I supposedly smear the blood of my slain enemies across my face," he stopped to chuckle dryly. "I kill darkspawn, dragons, and poorly-dressed slavers. Why in the Maker's name would I smear blood on my face?" Sitting back on the bed, Cullen hung his head down until he felt fingers stroking his messed hair again.

"You only killed that one dragon…"

"There were a lot of baby ones!" was protested while attempting to lighten the mood, but it once again felt solemn. "How bad are your symptoms? From the withdrawal, I mean?" There was a shrug.

"Fever, restlessness, some mild shaking. The pain comes and goes. Nothing I can't handle, but…"

"…If I tell you where I got this scar, will you let me help you? No matter what it is?" Looking up, the sad, green eyes were searched for sliver of hope to hold onto.

"…Agreed." With a smile, Hawke turned away to kneel down next to his armor and took his knife out from its hiding place. Cullen remembered that blade. It was the very same one which was refused to kill Anders with. He was sat next to once again and watched it cut a brown palm open. "…Blood magic? …So it's taken you after all?"

"No, I'm not about to summon a demon or anything… Give me your hand." There was a silent, stubborn refusal at first. "Come on, you said you trusted me, so trust me." Pressured but true to his word, the his hand was give, and as expected, it was also cut into the very same way. "Now the tricky part… Don't let go alright?" he was warned as his wounded palm was grasped. A blue light appeared, swirling wind and magic around them strong enough to shake the bed about as much as it was when they were making love on it. He cried out in pain as his veins lit up down his arm and throughout the rest of his body. It only took a few seconds before the light vortexed into his chest, briefly illuminating his heart before dispersing. Releasing his friend, Hawke fainted into his arms, blacking out for a few seconds but quickly came to after being caught. The wounds had also healed, only leaving a splash of red. "See. No demons."

"…Wha? ...What did you do?" Cullen asked as he carefully laid him on top of the pillows to rest.

"It's a… healing technique Anders developed that merges the blood of two people. Not his own, but say… a healthy person who recently got over a certain illness and someone who is still sick and too weak to recover. We take some of the healthy blood, sprinkle a bit of healing magic in, and move it to the sick. The healthy blood, with help, will fight off the illness that would otherwise take weeks to cure with normal treatment if the person doesn't die first. While there is technically blood AND magic involved, I wouldn't call it blood magic… Not really anyway. People use leaches to drain bad blood all the time. No one talks about selling their soul to the leaches…" He tried to laugh at his own joke, but only ended up groaning in pain.

"Why would you give me your blood?" But with a held out arm, it was immediately noticed how it wasn't shaking anymore.

"Because I like you." The blush on the commander's face made him laugh again into a fit of coughs. "And also because I'm a mage. My blood reacts differently to lyrium. I use it to enhance my abilities, but I do not have a dependency on it. Even without a potion, I will still regenerate my strength albeit slower. I charged my blood to take over the nasty bits of your normal boring blood... It's not a cure and will only be temporary …but considering tomorrow's battle, I… We need you at your best." Even though he understood most of what he was being told, the ex-Templar still frowned at the thought any sort of foul magic at work. Still, he had given his word and didn't see a demon anywhere, so he had to put faith in his friend as promised. Putting the arm down, he moved to crawl on top of him once again.

"And now you tell me about the scar on your chest. The one that looks as if it was made with your own knife over there." Sighing, Hawke was hoping it would be forgotten, but a part of him knew better.

"…That's because it was my own knife."

"And you're not the type to fall on your own sword…"

"…No, I didn't do it to myself. It was… Justice." Blonde eyebrows furrowed at the response.

"Justice? You mean Anders?! Why would he try to kill you?!"

"No, I mean it was Justice. Anders is… gone. For now."

"Gone?" Now there was more concern than anger. "What do you mean he's gone? You told the Inquisitor that you left him behind because of the Wardens."

"And I did, but it was also because of the Breach and all the massive holes to the Fade. Anders and I were traveling south since he wanted to get in touch with his old Commander after Kirkwall. We couldn't make it that far since many of the wardens had no idea how to reach their own leader. We were heading towards Amarathine when the Breach appeared and a rift opened up near us. We sensed demons and were ready to fight when Anders took my blade from my belt and attacked me without warning, but it wasn't him. Being close to the Fade, Justice took control and... Well, let's just say that I'm not his favorite person in the world. The only reason he missed my heart was because Anders is still in there. Somewhere. There's just enough to keep him from killing or leaving me, but still. Since then, he reminds me every chance he gets that if not for Anders, I would be disposed of."

"That bastard!…I…I…" But before Cullen could rant, he stopped himself as Hawke had turned over to avoid any further questioning. "…I'm sorry. This must be very difficult for you."

"If stopping the rifts will bring Anders back, I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I don't know what will happen tomorrow. so I'm glad we cleared the air… among other things." Rolling to face his former, or perhaps current, friend once again, he looked up with a sad expression. "If I don't make it out of the fortress alive tomorrow, will you… at least tell him that I tried? Even if you only talk to Justice, I know Anders is part of him. Please?" His requested was nodded to and he snuggled against the broad, warm, bare chest keeping him safe for now to rest. "Thank you." Running his fingers through the pale hair of his companion, Cullen gave him enough time to fall asleep before getting comfortable himself.

"I should have just said I loved you back then. Imagine where we would be now," he whispered before drifting off, not noticing the tickling against his collarbone was from blinking eyelashes.