Note: And with this one, the rating of the story officially shifts from T to M. Here there be smut, though not described in great detail.
Nathaniel never asks for it.
Anders has never asked the follow-up question to that first unspoken one of why not, and he is sure that Nathaniel has his reasons. And there's something special in that space, when the air grows warm and their hands bump as they remove each other's clothes and he can't ask then.
Nathaniel never asks for it, but he doesn't say no, either.
Anders knows Nathaniel is no fool, and when Anders kisses his way down Nathaniel's chest and pushes his back into the door, they both know what is about to happen. Nathaniel's fingers find their way into Anders hair - they always do - and they could just as easily pull him away. But they don't. They don't push or pull, though they do tighten depending on what Anders does.
Nathaniel never asks for it, but Anders can tell by the way he moans how much he enjoys it.
Anders always pauses for a moment as he kneels in front of Nathaniel - to admire the toned muscles of his hips, his thighs, his stomach. He saves the sight of Nathaniel's cock for last. It isn't always completely aroused - though sometimes it is - but it is always at least on its way there. Anders fingers stroke away any lingering hesitation before he takes the tip of Nathaniel's cock into his mouth.
Nathaniel never asks for it, and it's one of the reasons Anders loves to do it.
Anders sees how often Nathaniel is strung tighter than one of his bows; it happens on days when the whispered comments about his family get to him. They are not perfect - they are only men. Anders reminds Nathaniel of that. Wants to help him relax. But sometimes he does it because he loves the way Nathaniel's grip in his hair tightens when his tongue runs along the vein underneath. The way his breath will hitch. The way he tastes when he finally lets go.
Nathaniel never asks for it, and Anders is determined to change that.