Alistair and Jowan had set up their tent as far as they could from the others and still be within a safe distance of them. They both suspected that once their group moved on further into the forest in pursuit of the werewolves Zathrian wanted them to quell, they would be back to having few if any chances for privacy again. It didn't take any conversation for them to begin peeling off each other's clothing as soon as they returned to their tent that evening, exchanging kisses in between stripping each other down.

They knelt in the middle of their bedroll, Alistair having to keep his head bent to clear the low roof overhead, but that just meant he was in the perfect position for the two of them to kiss. Jowan ran his hands up into Alistair's hair, carding his fingers absently through the short strands while Alistair kissed him deeply, tongue slowly and thoroughly exploring his mouth. Alistair made a pleased noise at the contact, and slid his own hands up and down Jowan's back, pulling him closer. Then one of his hands slipped up to twine among the long hair at the back of Jowan's head, while the other drifted downwards and cupped one cheek of Jowan's buttocks, giving a light squeeze that made Jowan growl appreciatively and press closer to Alistair.

Alistair drew his head back a little, ending the kiss, and smiled to see the flushed, wanting expression on Jowan's face. He tugged lightly on Jowan's hair to tip his head back further, then lowered his head again, kissing along the line of Jowan's jaw, then lower, down his neck. He kissed and nuzzled at the base of Jowan's neck for a minute, then began licking at his throat, first short delicate laps at the dips above his arching collarbones, then long, slow licks up the front of his throat, from collarbones right up to chins. Jowan moaned and arched his head further back, giving him easier access. Alistair made a pleased sound, and nibbled on the other man's chin for a moment, drawing a startled giggle from him.

He grinned, then nuzzled into his hair until he found an earlobe. He drew it slowly into his mouth, sucking and nibbling gently on it, then licked his way around the outer rim of the ear, and felt Jowan shudder in his arms. He drew back slightly again, kissing his way across the upturned arch of Jowan's throat, then nosed into the hair on the other side and gave that ear the same treatment. Jowan's hands clutched almost painfully tight into his own hair, then Jowan was yanking him back to where he could kiss him on the mouth again, hungrily, almost bruisingly hard.

Jowan took a turn, nipping and lipping his way down the column of Alistair's throat. The mage paused for a moment to lick at the dip under his adam's apple, then shifted backwards on his knees so he could begin working his way down Alistair's chest, his tongue laving in slow, moist circles against his skin.

Alistair groaned at the loss of contact between their bodies. He hooked his hands under Jowan's arms and pulled him closer, as he himself lay back, twisting around his legs so that he ended up stretched out on his back, Jowan lying face-down on top of him. Jowan gave a short, breathless laugh. "What do you want?" he asked, raising his head to smile at Alistair.

Alistair swallowed thickly, looking at Jowan's swollen lips and blown eyes. "You," he said, voice low and hoarse.

Jowan's smile widened, and he laced his fingers into Alistair's hair again, squirming up his body a little so that they could kiss again. "Good answer," he growled against Alistair's mouth before opening his lips and inviting the warrior to plunder his mouth again.

Alistair concentrated on the kiss, on the slick play of tongue against tongue, only vaguely aware of Jowan's hands releasing his hair, of his body shifting around a little as he reached for something. It wasn't until he heard the familiar sound of the cork being removed from their oil bottle that he ended the kiss. Jowan sat up, letting his legs slip to either side to straddle Alistair. He poured a little oil into his cupped palm. "Hands," he growled.

Alistair obediently held his hands in easy reach of Jowan. The mage quickly spread the oil over his own palms and fingers, then began spreading it onto Alistair's as well. He took his time, massaging Alistair's hands as much as spreading oil, which drew a rumbling purr of approval from the man. Jowan grinned. "Like that, do you?"

"Very much," Alistair agreed, smiling fondly at him.

"I'll have to give you a real massage some time," the mage suggested, grinning at him. "For now... let's try this," he said, rose on his knees, and worked backwards until he was straddling Alistair's hips instead of his stomach. Reaching down, he ran his oiled hands lightly along Alistair's erection, taking particular care to cover the underside with a glistening coat of oil. Alistair growled and twitched, his own hands opening and closing in mid-air, not sure if he should reciprocate or do something different. Jowan slicked the underside of his own erection as well, then leaned forward and lowered himself down, pressing their cocks together.

"Put your hands around both of us at once," Jowan instructed Alistair.

He nodded and eased his hands between them, wrapping his hands around both their erections at once, holding them firmly together. "That good?" he asked.

Jowan gave a breathless little laugh. "Better than good, yes," he gasped out. "A little tighter. Shit, shit, yes, just like that!"

Jowan's own hand worked in between the two of them, cupping over their tips. He gently rubbed his palm over them for a moment, both their breathing going short and harsh. "I'm going to move," he panted out after a minute. "Try to... keep us together..."

He slowly drew back a little, then pushed forward again. His cock slipped along the underside of Alistair's, down and up again, guided by the warm, oily enclosure of Alistair's hands, the sensitive veined ridges rubbing together.

"Maker!" Alistair gasped.

Jowan laughed again, a half-strangled sound. "Good?"

"Exquisite," Alistair growled.

"See if... you can move too..." Jowan panted out. "In time. If you can."

Alistair nodded, waited for Jowan to finish a stroke, then on the next tried to rock his hips as well. They both cursed at the sensation, as they moved not-quite-in-step, cock rubbing against oiled, slick cock and oiled, calloused palms. After a few strokes they got into an even, slow rhythm with each other, sliding back and forth through Alistair's hands, Jowan palming slow circles on the tips ever time they pressed into his hands.

Jowan was curled over in a tight arch, his forehead pushing hard against Alistair's chest. Alistair could feel the hot gust of his breath against his skin as he panted for breath. Jowan's one free hand crept up his side, brushing across the flat planes of his chest to find and circle a nipple, while the mage jerkily moved his head to one side, found and lipped at the other. Alistair groaned, his back arching with the added sensation, hands tightening even more on their lengths. Jowan gave a low cry, and began to move with more urgency. They lost their shared rhythm, but the added sensation of cock sliding firmly against cock was more than worth it; they came within a breath of each other, thick white seed spurting across their bellies, slicking their hands.

Jowan groped for a cloth he'd put handy to them, and he wiped them more-or-less clean before stretching out on top of Alistair again. "Even better then what it sounded like," he said smugly.

Alistair gave a low laugh. "Another of Zevran's little suggestions?" he asked.

"No. Owen suggested it," Jowan said, sounding even more pleased with himself.

Alistair snorted. "Remind me to thank him some time."

Jowan lifted his head to grin at Alistair. "Just as long as you keep the thanks to words alone. I'm the only mage you get to kiss. Or grope. Or do other intriguing things with."

Alistair laughed. "Of course," he agreed.