The coffee maker rattled and sputtered, steam rising from its nozzle. Zevran smiled contentedly. He loved everything about the process: the munching noise of the grinder; the rich aroma of the freshly made espresso; the hot coffee almost scalding his tongue. Just like home. Getting the machine installed had been his first priority when he had started working at W.O.D. There was simply no way he would have survived the watery brew they used to drink around here. Fortunately, Aedan had been agreeable to his suggestion. Zevran rather suspected their boss enjoyed the finer things in life himself.
Sipping carefully from his cup, he closed his eyes in bliss, allowing himself a few minutes of daydreaming before getting back to work. Sunday had been nice, lazy and relaxing. He'd woken up late, to a short but sweet text message from Alistair. His imagination had immediately gone into overdrive, providing various scenarios that involved a very willing Alistair and lots of oil and naked skin. He'd ended up taking matters into his own hands again, of course.
After a luxurious breakfast, he'd spent some time online, chatting to old friends at home and researching local choirs and chess clubs. He'd been surprised to learn that Alistair had actually won the local chess championship three years in a row. Not just a casual player, then… He wondered how many more surprises the man had up his sleeve.
The afternoon had been set aside for working on his sword-fighting routines at the kendo studio, as usual. He'd finished the day with a good meal and a glass of heavy red wine. Yes. Pretty much the perfect Sunday, as far as Zevran was concerned.
"So, how did it go?"
He swiveled around to find Isabela standing in the doorway, a wide smile on her face. "What do you mean?"
She rolled her eyes impatiently at him. "You and Alistair, of course. Did you do the deed? Is he a screamer? Does he like it rough? I'm dying to know all about it."
Zevran hesitated. Under normal circumstances, he'd have readily obliged her. He did have a reputation to maintain, after all, and besides, he regarded Isabela as a friend. Probably the closest friend he had in this place. Yet, something made him reconsider. He wasn't quite sure himself why he didn't want to talk about what had happened between him and Alistair. But, it didn't feel right, and he had learned the hard way that it was better to rely on his gut feeling in such matters.
"There's really nothing to tell, Isabela," he said lightly, though he had little hope she would be content with such an evasive answer.
Predictably, she pouted. "Awww, come on. You were so eager to get your hands on him. I'm sure-"
"I don't want to talk about it." It came out sharper than he had intended, and he cursed himself immediately for showing so much emotion. Isabela's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he knew he had to distract her. "What about you and our medical consultant, though? Did you get a thorough counseling from him, I wonder?"
Isabela made a face at his terrible pun, but at the same time couldn't resist the opportunity to swagger, just as he had expected. "Very thorough indeed!" She closed her eyes, a blissful expression spreading over her face. "Duncan is quite amazingly knowledgeable, you know."
"I don't doubt it. And so very manly." Zevran grinned. "I'm sure you had a memorable night."
"You bet I did." She sashayed off, popping her head back around the corner to wink at him. "But, since you are so very reticent today, you'll have to go without the juicy details this time, my dear. See you at lunch."
He smiled to himself, thinking that this was probably just as much of a punishment for Isabela as it was for himself. She loved to tell him about her adventures, and he tended to be an eager listener. Hearing Isabela recount one of her nightly jaunts was better than porn any day.
He was about to return to his workspace when a quiet voice made him jump. "Zevran. Good morning." He hadn't even noticed that Leliana had been right outside the kitchen all through his conversation with Isabela. Sneaky! He'd really have to be more careful in the future.
For the time being, he favoured her with his most dazzling smile. "Good morning, Leliana. Did you enjoy the party?"
"I certainly did." She sniffed disdainfully. "And, I was glad to hear you didn't feel the need to brag. Alistair deserves to be treated right."
Oh? This should be fun. Zevran leaned back against the counter, schooling his features into a suitably sober look. "I certainly don't intend to treat him otherwise. I can assure you that I appreciate his many fine qualities, and-"
To his surprise, Leliana cut him off with a swift gesture, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Don't bother with the pretty words, Zevran. I'm neither stupid nor a prude. But, let me make one thing absolutely clear." She stepped closer to him, and despite her slight figure she managed to look rather imposing as she straightened her back. "If you toy with him, if you hurt him, I'll make sure you regret it."
She turned and left without waiting for his answer. Zevran sighed deeply and picked up his almost empty cup, considering her parting words. He understood where she was coming from, but really, there was no reason for her threats. He had no intention whatsoever to hurt Alistair. Sure, he'd broken more than his fair share of hearts in his time, but, as a rule, he took care to treat his partners well.
And it would be such a pity to break the whole thing off. Making out with Alistair had been hot and sweet, and Zevran was reasonably sure he could be persuaded to take things further. A lot further. He shivered involuntarily, balling his fists in a vain effort to keep his arousal in check.
Still, Alistair seemed oddly… pure, for all his good looks. Maybe he should call a halt now, before anyone could get too involved? Maybe Leliana was right after all? Zevran sighed again. Yes. That's definitely the reasonable thing to do, no doubt about it.
Zevran's newly-found resolve melted into butter the moment he caught sight of Alistair, bent over a desk to glare grimly at a computer screen. He looked utterly delectable in blue jeans and a plain white tee, his hair tousled where he'd run his hands through the thick curls in exasperation.
"Damn it, this should be easy as pie!" He was grumbling to himself, but when he turned to face Zevran, a bright smile chased away the frown on his face. A smile, accompanied by another one of those adorable blushes. Zevran caught himself wishing Alistair didn't get too jaded about their encounters any time soon. To see his skin flush like this, all the way down his neck, probably even further down... It was quite the treat.
"Zevran." Alistair awkwardly cleared his throat. "Hey. Did you have an enjoyable weekend? I mean-" He broke off, clearly worried that he'd somehow implied too much.
"I had a lovely weekend, querido." Fortunately, Zevran had no such scruples. "So many wonderful things to think about, to imagine…" He let his voice trail off suggestively. "It's great to see you. But, you seemed angry just now?"
Alistair looked confused for a moment, but then his face lit up in comprehension. "I… No, not angry. Just a bit mad at myself, because I can't get this to work." He indicated the computer screen with a tilt of his head. "Leliana asked me to upload some party pictures for everyone, and somehow the blasted system won't let me. It should be no problem, but I keep getting the same error message. Might have something to do with-" He broke off, looking embarrassed. "Sorry. You're probably not interested in the technical details."
"Not particularly," Zevran admitted cheerily. "But I'm sure you'll be able to sort it out eventually. And, maybe we can have a peek at the pictures right here and now?"
"Sure." Alistair made an inviting gesture, and Zevran dropped into the chair.
He noted with approval that this arrangement meant Alistair would have to lean over him to grab the mouse. Alistair was quite a bit taller than he was, and he had wonderfully wide shoulders, so he was framing Zevran on all sides. And he smelled so good… Zevran closed his eyes as another set of fantasies took over his brain. Alistair moving behind him, above him, pressing him down into the sheets, his powerful body taut with barely restrained need. Alistair's voice, rough with passion, moaning his name, crying out in abandon… And of course, just like that, he was fully hard again, and he could only hope Alistair wouldn't notice. Or maybe hope he would? Zevran wasn't quite sure.
Alistair clicked on the first picture in the gallery. It showed Aedan, with Leliana at his side, looking every inch the successful young entrepreneur. Quickly, they worked their way through the photos until they came to one with Zevran, lounging on a chair, looking relaxed and confident in his skimpy costume.
"You look amazing." Alistair's voice, close to his ear, sounded strangled. "But-"
"What is it?" Instinctively, Zevran wiggled back a little, eager for more contact, and was rewarded with a sharp inhale.
Alistair cleared his throat. "I was just wondering. Why the pointy ears? I mean, it was a Santa costume, and-"
"Oh, those." Zevran smiled, hit by a sudden flash of nostalgia. "I found them in a drawer when I was assembling my costume, and I put them on, on a whim. I've had them for ages. A former girlfriend of mine was really into elves, and I used to wear them for… role play purposes."
"You mean... Oh!" There was no need to turn around to know Alistair was blushing. "That sounds... interesting."
Zevran felt his smile widen. "I could wear them for you, if you like."
Alistair's rough gasp was all the answer he needed. Zevran had a hard time hiding his elation as they continued leafing through the pictures. Sorry, Leliana. There was no way he was going to break this off. Not when the future promised to be so very exciting.
Bear hugs to suilven for her help, as usual. Also, thanks to askbroodyelf for the amazing art (you can find the full pic on my tumblr).