I suggest reading the chapter while you hear that song again and again. I believe it fits perfectly. watch?v=u3dkVk3F57c
Gwaren, Kleinszen 19:35 pm, Wintermarch 2012
Within hours, the place was crawling with mutant hunters. Armed and uncompromising, the Templars searched through the small city, turning everything upside down. They were searching for mutants and indeed they had found some - but not the escaped criminals they were after. Their 'catch' was just a group of terrified children and elders who failed to hide this time. Mutants' accomplices were dragged out and publicly executed. Their rapidly cooling bodies were dumped next to the corpses of an old woman and a little girl. After a short debate, the mutants themselves were shackled and escorted to the one of larger cars. The Circle was the proper place for them: once they'll reach their destination, their fate would be decided by the local Templar-Commander.
Despite all the efforts of the templars, the escaped murderers and terrorists known as Anders and Falcor Redin weren't found. The sewers were searched as well after the templars got hold of the sewer blueprints (which took too much time). All they found were swarms of rats. The runaways had vanished.
Gwaren, 200 miles north to Kleinszen 20:44 pm, Wintermarch 2012
They were so unbelievably lucky. If Falcor was a believer he would fall on his knees to exalt his gratitude to God. Finding their way out the sewers and escaping the city by hiding in a truck delivering bricks without being found by the Templars was no joke. Someone up there was looking out for them.
Ditching the truck on its first stop, they made it to the forest and forged into it. Wilderness was their safest bet.
After blindly treading in the snow for a while with fear pushing them forward and nearly freezing to the death, they found an abandoned gas station. The two cried with the relief of finding a temporary shelter. It was already dark and the heavy snow kept falling, slowing their movement through the thicksubstance.
Of course they were exhausted, very cold, smelling of sewage and hungry but none of it could be compared to the fact they were still alive and free.
Anders broke in, using some brute force. He carefully checked inside before helping the barely standing up Falcor in. It wasn't hard to see that the redhead was able to stand only by pure obstinacy. He was shivering and often held onto his still hurting side.
Rummaging in the chaos of dusty garbage, Anders managed to find a usable bowl, a half full box of matches, a few untouched by some miracle cans, some old wooden furniture pieces; a real treasure for the two. "Hmm…tuna and corned beef…Not bad." Anders mused.
He quickly pulled the wood together and made a small fire, daring to only for his lover. The way Falcor almost collapsed to the floor, curling into himself, skin achieving a bluish shade of a freezing person indicated his dire state. Anders assumed he wasn't looking any better and yet his lover was the one who lost a lot of blood because of this wound from before.
He filled the bowl with snow, cleaning it a bit and then refilled it with fresh snow. He left it near the fire till the snow melted, mixing it with one of the cans and forced Falcor to finish the improvised soup despite of his quiet protests. When some color has returned to Falcor's face, Anders felt a bit less worried. He opened the other can and ate its contents, using fingers.
The smaller man was lying near the fire, as close as it was possible, eye half lidded and watched the flames dancing. He had barely said a word since their fall down the tube, avoiding looking at the blond most of the time, a behavior Anders learned to crack.
Sitting near Falcor he watched the fire as well. "Stop that. It's not your fault. You couldn't know it'd turn out that way."
Falcor didn't react, only twitching.
"Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. "Anders repeated, firmly holding Falcor's cold palm in his hands. The shorter man grimaced. He couldn't look at Anders. "I should have known they would get a dog…After so much time on a run I should have..." He took a deep breath.
Anders just shook his head in disapproval. "Falcor, look at me. Come on, look at me. I don't blame you. I blame the templars, the blighted system that allows such an abuse and cruelty. Even if you had known there was nothing we could do. Please, love."
Unwillingly and slowly Falcor half turned to him, releasing a quiet huff. "I have managed to find our contact. Justice seemed to receive the message this time. He said through the contact that he may be able to arrange us a passage through the sea, to Rivain. There's someone he trusts to help us. We have to find someone named Hinsi near South Reach post for further instructions."
Anders nodded at the short report Falcor gave him. He was talking again. It was a good sign. "Very well. We'll be on our way after both of us rested and the weather allows us to step out the door."
They had hard time trying to contact Justice after they were separated near Ferelden's south borders. Between trying to keep a low profile (which wasn't easy with their wanted posters all around) and trying to keep their sanity, suddenly they found themselves alone.
"Go to sleep. I promise I'll be here when you will wake up." Anders looked at his stubborn lover who refused to submit to sleep despite his exhaustion.
"I am fine. There is no need to fuss around me. I am not tired." The redhead glared at Anders, still scared to appear weak, a burden, even after years of acquaintance and companionship. Sometimes, although not as much as before, Falcor still acted as if he were a thing and not a person. Anders really wanted to beat the hell out of whomever programed him to act like his feelings and needs weren't important. Like a slave. Just the thought boiled the blood in his veins.
Gently lifting Falcor's face towards him, Anders sealed those dry lips with a tender kiss. His thumbs rubbed redhead's cheeks as the kiss lingered, neither of them willing to stop. "You do need the rest. Stop being so stubborn, will you?"
Falcor made a half irritated sound in the back of his throat but leaned closer. A second kiss soon came, and then another and another.
The tender caresses gradually turned into heated clash of teeth and tongues, both of them fighting for dominance in their desperate urge to find a temporary comfort. A distraction they needed from the rawness of death and stress that followed them every step of their lives recently.
Anders's nimble hands unzipped the other's pants, pushing the thick material down enough to free an already interested cock.
Falcor hissed quietly. He arched, pressing further into the familiar touch. Pleased with his lover's reaction Anders wrapped hand around the hardening cock and began to move it up and down.
He enjoyed hearing Falcor's gasps and moans, nibbling on the slender throat, gently at first but ending leaving marks all over it. To know that he was able to turn this tough man, this fiery fighter into a sweet pile of flesh, flushed and begging for more, did things to him. He couldn't deny it.
Falcor didn't complain, he liked when Anders went passionate, marking him as his. There was nothing wrong with a little rough sex.
Increasing the rhythm of his movements Anders just grinned when he felt shaking hands struggling with his own pants. He helped Falcor to open the tricky button, moaning in turn when his actions were mirrored by a warm hand of his lover.
In no time they were consumed in their lovemaking, drinking each other's groans of pleasure and rocking together.
Falcor came first; a faint long moan accompanied his seed spilling on Anders's hand and their clothes. Anders followed him, aroused by those sweet sounds his lover was making. Sometimes he thought he could come only from hearing Falcor.
They lay on the dusty heap of wheat sacks for a while, panting and too exhausted to move. Eventually their loud breathing calmed down. Anders was the first to shift, squinting at his red haired mate, whose head was on his chest, snoring lightly already. Gingerly he moved away, replacing his chest with a pillow made of his backpack. Falcor's nose twitched but he didn't wake up, curling further into a protective ball around the backpack, calmed by Anders's scent it carried.
Anders used the remains of the melted snow to clean himself and the still sleeping redhead before rearranging Falcor's pants. The red haired mutant didn't stir during the process; he was beyond exhaustion.
Anders took his coat off and covered Falcor's sleeping form. Usually they divided the night shifts in two, each getting a half night to watch while the other rested. But tonight, Anders decided to allow his lover the rest he needed so much.
It'd be a long night of watching.
Anders and Falcor in moment of intimacy. Thank you tarisha!
post/83997876634/falcor-and-anders-one-of-those-hot-moments-i