Title: Questioning Beliefs

Author: Maqeurious

Game: Dragon Age 2

Characters: F!Hawke/Sebastian

Months after the terrible events at Kirkwall, and the destruction of the Chantry and the Circle; Hawke disappeared. Disgusted at herself for killing Anders and on a path of destruction of her own, her only hope for death lies in the hands of her former companion, Sebastian. But Sebastian is a changed man too. With his faith in the Maker shaken and his life in the Chantry over, he is given the chance he has longed for since losing all he had.

Hawke wants death, and it's up to him to deliver.

Beaten half to death, Hawke now has to trust in Sebastian to help her. But the fevered dreams she has doesn't make things easy for him, or his hormones. Wait, what? Since when did he have those?
An interlude of quiet contemplation.

Comments/Reviews greatly appreciated :D

Stolen Kiss

An interlude

Hawke was dreaming – but it felt like reality. It seemed so real, that if she reached out to touch the scene, she could take hold of it. Manipulate it.

It was a clear summer day. She could actually feel the warm rays of the sun on her skin and the wet squish of sand between her toes. She was standing on a beach. No, it wasn't a beach. It was river bank that looked vaguely familiar.

Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and she turned back to gaze at the small village of Lothering burning in the distance. Rich columns of black billowing smoke rose above the primitive village, darkening the sky, as the buildings of mud-bricks, hay and wood burnt to the ground. She could hear a sound, a high pitched, keening sound, and even at this distance she had to cover her ears against it. It was like the sound of nails – hundreds and hundreds of nails clawing at a board of slate.

Someone called to her. At least, she thought they did, for when she went to respond there was another girl who looked exactly like her running over the fields and towards a small group of people. This other her, this... imposter, was speaking. Her mouth moving at a rapid pace. It was like she was screaming, or more like bellowing instructions or orders.

Hawke squinted her eyes at the small gathering and pulled back in surprise. It was her! And the people she was with were her family. She choked on a sob. There they were, just as she remembered them.

Bethany, her apostate sister now claimed by the Grey Wardens. She was as beautiful as she remembered, even with the look of panic in her muddy brown eyes. And next to her was Carver. She felt her breath escape her. Even though she'd spent most of her life at odds with her younger brother, it still pained her deeply to think about his tragic death. He looked so strong standing there. Did he even realize how protective he was being right now as he pulled Bethany behind him? Then her gaze landed on her mother, and tears began to well in her eyes. She missed her with a desperation that bordered on the insane. The horrible way she had been taken from her. Kidnapped, brutally murdered and beheaded. Then put together again like some kind of grotesque puzzle piece. It was beyond inhuman.

She turned her attention back to the village. Amidst the raging flames, smoke and throng of panicked villagers, she saw an army of darkspawn. Their corpse-like faces twisted with a rage that could only be sated with blood and death. They swung their heavy swords at anything or anyone that moved, corralling the villagers up only to cut them all down like they were vermin.

She wanted to move and run towards the village, but no matter how much she tried, her legs wouldn't budge. Their horrible cries reached her again, tearing through the sky so loudly it made her skin prickle. She reached out, pleading through teary eyes – begging the Maker to let her help. Having to watch her home be destroyed again was just too cruel.

But then the village was slowly disappearing. Something else was happening. The scene was moving. It twisted and twirled, wavering like heat coming off a worn sun-baked road. An immense pain claimed her legs, still making her unable to move. The smell of burning wood and flesh engulfed her. The sounds of cracking and popping echoed in her ears, then a thundering scream that was scarcely even human. All reason left her. Her eyes, which were clamped shut, flew open and the flickering scene before her came together piece by piece.

She was bound at her ankles with thick straps of leather so tightly, they cut into her delicate skin. Her hands too, were tied behind her back, and around a long solid piece of wood that acted like a splint for her entire body. Her heart thudded, banging wildly against her ribcage when she realized that it wasn't a splint at all. It was a stake. And those inhuman screams she could hear, were coming from her very own mouth.

A sudden realization dawned on her. She was on fire.

Flames danced and whirled around her feet. She could feel her flesh there burn, the skin sizzling and melting away, exposing the whiteness of her bones underneath. Violent waves of nausea flooded through her as the flames traveled higher, swirling in thick hot ribbons around her thighs. The white shift she was wearing, ignited. The fabric falling away like liquid fire as the searing heat claimed her torso and continued to head upwards.

Scores of agonizing cries erupted from her, her lungs suffocating from the smokey stench of her own flesh and muscle roasting like a pig on a spit. No matter how much she struggled, no matter how much she violently thrashed her charred body, the fire continued to envelop her.

Before the flames reached her face and head, she saw through the blaze and made out the faces of her family again. She tried to call out to them, begging them to help, but her voice wouldn't work. She couldn't speak, and that realization brought a new flood of tears to her eyes. And her family, they were just staring at her with cold gray eyes. Steely eyes. Accusing eyes. Then the corner of Carvers lip curled, and he was grinning, mouthing words that she couldn't quite hear. He laughed, boring his dead eyes into hers as if he seemed to be enjoying the spectacle he was witnessing. He reached out and pulled Bethany into him on one side, and mother on the other, while they too looked on with a sense of awe. They were studying her. The smile on their faces was that of wonder and morbid curiosity.

The flames licked her cheeks. The feeling of her muscles and sinews rippling and singeing sent a new rush of screams through her. The thick rancid smell of burnt human hair wafted in the surrounding firestorm. Her lips began to burn. Lips that were once so soft, so kissable; turned into fleshy pools of bubbling fatty liquid.

Her struggling ceased. There was no point now. She couldn't scream. She couldn't even feel her own body. She couldn't feel anything anymore.

The last sense to go was her eyesight. As the flesh was melting away from her face, her big green-irised eyes were left unblinking. She could see her family, smiling and holding each other as they pointed and laughed at her. Then behind them, there was another figure. Straining her sight, she wasn't the least bit surprised when she saw it was her. Or rather, her other self. Same blonde hair. Same luminous emerald eyes. Same pale, ivory skin. But it was the smile that remained to haunt her dying vision. It was cruel. Evil. Then words were being spoken in her head.

This is what we deserve. This is our punishment. We could not save them. We could not protect them. We do not deserve redemption. No one is left to help us. No one is left to love us.

The other her was right. Since Lothering, she'd made one awful mistake after the other when it came to the well being of her family, and she'd gotten them all killed. Even Bethany was lost to her now, forever.

No one is left to love us.

Yes, her imposter was right. No one was left to love her, because she'd killed the only man who ever did. There was no love, because love was dead. And so was she.

~ooo~

Sebastian wiped away the beads of perspiration from Hawkes forehead and temples. She was burning with fever and twitching to and fro as if in the throws of a nightmare. Every now and then she would cry out, sounds that were more muffled moans then actual words. She thrashed about as if she were in pain, but he couldn't tell if it was real pain or dream pain.

The bruises on her face were horrible. Thick, black patches covered her cheeks and around her eyes. Her left cheek in particular was swollen, and he wondered if the bones there might be shattered. Her top lip was also cut and quite swollen too. He pulled back the blanket that was covering her, and gasped. Not at the fact that she was completely naked beneath it, but at the many painful looking marks that daubed her once smooth pale skin. Deep purple bruises stretched down her entire left side like patchwork. They were concentrated around her ribs and just under her breasts. An array of cuts and scrapes had torn her skin and there was also a nasty set of ragged fingernail scratches around her hips and waist that he guessed had come from the thug as he ripped the clothes from her.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair as anger started to bubble beneath his surface. How could a man do this to a woman? Beat her half to death and try to force himself on her. The thought made him sick to his stomach, and suddenly he was ashamed of being a man himself. People like that didn't deserve to live. He'd seen to that though.

"The water's ready."

Quickly covering Hawke again, he turned to the door of the little shack they were taking refuge in. Rin was standing in the doorway holding a small pail of hot water. The poor girl looked like how he felt. Her chubby cheeks were stained with dried dirty tears, and dark bags scored the underside of her eyes. He gave her a gentle smile and waved her over to him.

"Is she going to be OK?" she asked, stifling a small yawn.

He tousled her grubby hair as he took the pail from her, ghostly steam billowing forth from within it. "She'll be fine Little Rin, she just needs some medicine and a lot of rest."

He carefully poured some of the hot water into a separate cup that held sprigs of elfroot and spindleweed, immersing the herbs completely and then covered the cup with a small lid he'd found to keep the heat in. The potion would need to sit and steep for at least an hour before it was ready to use. How he was going to get Hawke to drink it however, was another problem all together. To the pail he added a few shoots of valerian, to help soothe pain, and some fragrant lavender stems, then set it aside to cool a bit before using it to wash the blood and dirt from Hawkes body.

He pulled Rin onto his lap and held her close against his chest. He'd lost Madoc today, and that had torn him in two. But at least Rin was still alive. He actually thanked the Maker for that little miracle.

"So, your name isn't Lyon?" she asked him, yawning again.

"No it's not. It's Sebastian."

"Why did you say it was Lyon then?"

He wondered the same thing for a moment. After he left Kirkwall in search of Hawke, the anger and resentment he felt consumed him. Changed him. The things he did to people as a means of extracting information about her still disgusted him to this day. But then, his rampaging had caught up with him outside of Cumberland. He'd threatened the wrong man apparently, and had been jumped by his goons as revenge. They had beaten him senseless and robbed him blind. As he lay there in a pool of his own blood, he felt his resolve leave him and the flame of faith extinguish. He hated what he'd become, and was perfectly happy to die right then and there. But then a smiling face appeared before his eyes, and a hand extended; offering warmth and redemption. The rest was history.

"I didn't want to be Sebastian anymore," he said sadly, "I didn't like who he was turning into."

Rin shuffled in his arms so she could see his face and asked with a wide-eyed expression, "But you like him now though, right? I like Sebastian. I think he's very kind."

He smiled down at her, searching the child's deep brown eyes, "You do? And why is that?"

"Because he always helped papa and me, and now he's helping this lady to get well. Lyon is Sebastian, and Sebastian is Lyon," then she smiled so wide, her eyes crinkled in the corners, "and you both call me Little Rin. I really like that name."

How was it that this child could make him doubt himself so easily? That a single word or look from her could see right through him, as if he were as transparent as glass. He pulled Rin in and crushed her with a giant hug, fighting against the sting of tears in his eyes, until she playfully groaned that she couldn't breathe and he let her go.

She reached out curiously to touch Hawkes hand, and drew back quickly when she felt how hot it was. "She's pretty sick isn't she."

Sebastian sighed deeply, "Yeah, she has a fever now," he said, shifting Rin to one knee so he could once again lean over and dab Hawkes forehead. "When the potion is done though it should help her get better. It's because of your father I even have these herbs you know. He insisted on packing them for me when I left."

"Papa was always good with herbs," she said sadly, and after a small pause added, "he's with mama now right? Is... she... going to go to the Maker with mother and father too?"

The question made his heart skip a beat. His hand came to rest on the side of Hawkes face, and he stroked her poor bruised cheek. "Not today Little Rin," he said with determination, "not if I can help it."

"Is she your wife?" she asked out of the blue.

Sebastian almost choked on his next breath, then laughed. He counted himself lucky that Hawke wasn't awake to hear that. "No," he replied, his lip curling in a smile, "she's not my wife. We're just friends. We spent a lot of time together once, long ago."

"Is she why you left us?"

He nodded slowly, "Yes.."

"Is she important to you?"

He sighed again. From the mouth of babes, he thought. "I'm... not sure yet. Maybe."

Rin yawned again, and he felt her slump slightly in his arms. "You like her Sebastian. I can tell." she said sleepily.

He raised an eyebrow at her, "Is that so? And what makes you think that Little Rin?" he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear her answer.

"Because you look at her the way papa used to look at mama." She wriggled herself free from his grip and gave him a lazy smile before heading to the corner where he'd set up a make-shift bed for her. She curled up beside Merc, who was already dozing, and quickly sunk into a deep sleep.

He watched her for a moment, wondering to himself if she really was a six year old child and not some old woman in a clever disguise. He shook is head. He didn't think he looked at Hawke any different then he did anyone else.

He turned back to the cot and dipped his cloth into the pail of now warm water. The smell coming from it was intoxicating and sweet. Wringing it out, he started to clean away the dried blood and dirt from Hawkes face. The bruises did nothing to deter how pretty she was to him though. It would only be a matter of time before they finally faded. Once the potion was ready, it would speed her recovery exponentially from the inside, and the salve he had made from ambrosia would soften the coloring and help with the swelling on the outside. But first he had to clean her up, and that meant washing her entire body.

His brow furrowed as he thought about it. He could do this, he was a grown man after all. It wasn't anything sexual. It had to be done.

He pulled back the blanket again and took in her naked form. NO, not her nakedness, her wounds. Concentrate on the wounds Sebastian, he scolded himself. Wetting his cloth again, he began to clean away the blood from her chest.

He could definitely do this if it meant Hawke would get better. He had to.

Just please... don't let her wake up while I'm doing it.

o.O.o

Hungry kisses invaded her mouth. His tongue swirled around hers, pulling her deeper – harder against his own. Claiming her. He moaned, and the sound made her knees turn to jelly. She captured his lips as he began unbuttoning her shirt, tearing at the fabric with reckless abandon until it was rent from her body. He kneaded her breast with his hand, slow and gentle; the complete opposite of what his mouth was intending. She nuzzled her cheek to his, loving the way his whiskers prickled her skin. It sent chills through her.

Unable to stand it anymore, she tore at his coat, her fingers crushing the delicate feathers as she peeled it back, taking his shirt along with it and exposing the taunt muscles of his chest. A lick of fire ignited in her, starting low in her stomach and making her ache with an incredible need. She wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed him tightly.

He laughed in her ear.

"Marian, you are insatiable," he whispered.

"Yes, I am. But I can't help that I want to eat you up. Every. Single. Piece. Of. You." Her hand traveled down and cupped him roughly as she spoke, fire dancing in her eyes.

He laughed again, "Is that so? Well then, allow me to make it a whole lot easier." He drowned her mouth in another passionate kiss as he unfastened her bra, then pulled back to take her breast in his mouth. She arched her back, relishing the feel of his tongue pleasing her. Her hands fisted his hair, the silky strands tangling around her fingers as his teeth grazed and bit her sensitive nipple.

"I thought I was supposed to be eating you?" she said through gritted teeth.

"Hmm?" He looked up at her, pulling gently on her hardened nipple before letting it snap back softly against her chest. "Oh? Well, since I've already started I might as well continue. Besides..." he cupped her other breast in his hand, running his thumb around her aureola, then lapped at it like a kitten lapping milk, "you taste so sweet Marian, I can barely stand it."

He raised himself up, hovering over her and pinned her to the bed. She looked at him quizzically as he pulled back and crawled down her body. She ground her teeth at the sight of him. He looked so predatorial and wild, it went through her like a hot lance.

He smiled wickedly as he pulled off her boots and stockings. She was never one for being submissive. She liked to be in charge. Be in control. But with him, it was different. She enjoyed the way he took the power from her hands. Waving it in front of her, teasing her. The bedroom was the only place she'd allow it.

She delighted in the way he slid his hands up her legs and higher still along her trembling thighs. Fighting the urge to sit up, she watched as he played with the fabric lining of her underwear, slowly sliding them off over her knees. She heard him hiss at the sight of her before running a rough, cool palm from the inside of her thigh to the tip of her pelvis. It was with great effort not to explode from the sheer pleasure and beauty of that touch alone.

Biting his lip, he slowly pulled away her skirt, lifting up her bottom so he could slide it away and discard it on the floor with the rest of her clothing, leaving her naked and wanting before him.

"I want to look at you," he said as he pulled the rest of his own clothing off.

Her heart pounded at the sight of his pale, masculine body. Her eyes drinking him in and landing hungrily on the extremely firm erection he proudly displayed.

He picked up her foot, rubbing the sole of it with tender care. Ripples of pleasure went through her, until he took a nip of the flesh there.

"You're killing me here," she breathed raggedly.

"It's all about building the suspense, my love," he answered, taking another nip; this time at her ankle. "We start small," another nip, "then gain momentum," another nip, this time to the side of her knee. "All the while, building the tension," another nip on her inner thigh, "until..." higher, "...until..." higher again, "..it becomes much... too... much... to bare." He'd barely let his tongue graze along her slick, glistening skin when she shuddered in an orgasm that was so fierce, she almost crushed his head between her thighs.

He laughed quietly as he rested his chin on her stomach, enjoying her rampant cries of pleasure. She sounded as if she were singing. When she finally calmed, he looked up to meet her now flustered face.

"Well, that was quick," he said, grinning like a maniac.

She couldn't help but laugh, her green eyes shining like pools of liquid. "Uh, yeah. Sorry about that." She reached down to run her fingers through his blonde hair, and pulled him up to her lips, planting kiss after kiss over his face.

"Woe is me Marian," he purred between kisses, "and here I thought I was to be eaten by a voracious warrior."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," she said, rolling him over onto his back so she could straddle him. "I am a voracious warrior, and I'm starving." She gave him her best devilish grin. "And you my dear are going to make a delicious feast."

She ran her hands over his arms, seeking out every dip and curve of muscle. Then with her gaze locked salaciously on his, she shifted her weight so that the center of her body was pressed against the tip of him, and slowly inched herself down until he completely impaled her.

The sensation of his hard length inside of her was incredible. She lifted herself up again, planting a kiss on his hungry mouth and then slid back down to take him in all the way to the hilt.

He growled as pleasure tore through him, and lifted his hips to drive himself even deeper into her as she rode him with a furious pace. Her entire body was on fire as he cupped her breasts in his hands.

She covered his hands with hers as her pleasure started to mount. Every time they made love, she was dazed by how good he felt inside of her. She quickened her strokes, wanting to feel him even deeper. And then she felt it again... that surging magic when her world exploded and the trembling overcame her.

When he felt her orgasm, he was fired by it, and as they gained in strength and momentum, his own pleasure built until he joined her release. Throwing his head back, he groaned aloud, grinding her hips against his so he could feel every single twitch and contraction, while she in turn excepted his offering with every thrust.

She collapsed on top of him, covering his body with hers as they both struggled to regain their breath. He brought his arms around her, pressing her now sweaty body against his, and kissed her head.. her cheeks.. her lips.

"Marian, you're amazing," he said as his hands teased her thighs and cupped her bottom, "but I hope you don't think I'm anywhere near done with you tonight?"

Her eyes widened as she realized he was already growing hard again. Pulling back, she looked down to see that she wasn't imagining it. With a shocked look, she met his sly grin.

"It's 2 – 1 my love, I can't let you get away with that." He pulled her down roughly and kissed her, grabbing handfuls of her hair, then rolled her over so he could drive himself into her again.

Oh yes, Hawke remembered how she loved that he took control of her. Thrusting into her with a force that drove the very breath from her lungs and brought tears to her eyes. Nothing felt better then him. No one owned her like he did. And no one would ever again.

~ooo~

The salve was thick and shiny, and smelled slightly of sugared fruit. It clung to Sebastian's fingers like sticky goo, and every time he spread it over Hawkes skin, he had to fight the urge to lick the excess from his fingers. Once, long ago, he'd actually tried the mixture while learning how to make it. He would never make that mistake again. It might smell sweet, but it tasted like old boot leather.

He smeared the salve over the worst of Hawkes bruises on her ribs, massaging it in with the greatest of care. She was still running a fever, but it seemed her nightmares had subsided for the moment, and she was now sleeping quite peacefully. He'd managed to clean her up without incident, but it only made the bruises stand out all the more. He ran a steady finger along the scratches on her hips and sighed, biting back the rising anger and lathered her with more salve. A tiresome yawn overcame him. It should be midnight about now, but as much as he wanted to sleep he still had much to do.

Scooping up a large dollop of the sweet goop, he began to massage it into her stomach when Hawke shivered and groaned. Thinking he'd somehow hit a sore spot, he pulled back and saw her eyes were screwed shut tightly and her breathing had become labored. Unsure of what to do, he thought it would be best to let her ride it out, then try again. Once she'd calmed down, he resumed his task.

His mind wondered, and he thought about the elfroot potion. It should be ready now and he'd have to administer it to her. How, he still hadn't figured out, but-

"Ahhh...!"

Sebastian froze mid rub and sucked in a surprised breath. That sound... wasn't a sound of pain. He looked up again and saw Hawkes face twisted in... Oh, oh my! He pulled back his hands quickly when the same soft moans came from her, and she squirmed under his touch.

Was she dreaming again? And if so, just what was she dreaming about? It sure wasn't like the nightmare she was wrestling with before. This one seemed much more... pleasurable.

Sebastian pushed himself backwards as he watched her writhe before him, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. She cried out again, another tantalizing soft moan that tore at his own body, when she arched her back as if in response to a ghostly touch.

This was more then he could handle. He reached out and grabbed the blanket, pulling it over her. He could wait a few moments until she'd managed to calm down, then he could continue with his treatment. But as he drew the blanket up past her waist, her hand caught his and she was holding onto him tightly. To his surprise, her eyes were still closed. It was as if her body was moving on it's own. Watching her with an intense gaze, Hawke sucked in a breath and brought his hand to rest against her breast and let out a moan so deep, Sebastian thought his face was going to spontaneously combust. He jumped quickly to his feet, snatching his hand back and stepped away from the cot. He needed some air, now! Casting a quick glance to Rin, he was thankful she was still snoring soundly amidst the cascade of blankets, and headed outside.

Much needed cold air washed over him, and he could feel the heat in his face start to lessen. Just what was that? At least he didn't need to wonder what her dream was about. This was going to make treating her rather difficult.

He leaned against the side of the shack and brought his hand up to his face. It was still warm, and...NO! He shook his head, trying to get his thoughts straight. Now is not the time to get all childish Sebastian, he scolded himself again. Still, he couldn't get the image of her body out of his mind, or the memory of how soft and supple she was. How good she smelled, or those pleasurable sounds she made. But worst of all, he couldn't believe how his own body had betrayed him and responded to those sounds. He felt it even now, so much so that he had to tame his breathing to bring it back under control. A surge of fire had gone through him, and that hadn't happened in a very long time. Years. Many years even. But it was unmistakeable. He was... excited. No, his body was excited, which would account for why he now had a rather uncomfortable hard on. Great! I've been regressed back to my adolescence, he sighed.

He let himself sink to the ground to rest a moment. It wasn't supposed to be like this, he thought. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. And while he was on the subject, just when did he start to feel like this anyway? He mind-slapped himself. This was not the time. Not at all. Maybe someone should have told that to his lower extremities, however.

He took a deep breath. Then another. And another, until he could start to feel himself relax and... get back to normal. So what was he going to do now? He couldn't hear anything from inside the shack, Hawke must have finally gone back to sleep. But it wasn't like he could just go back in there and start all over again. That would be much too uncomfortable. He sighed deeply. He knew that wasn't true. He had to go back in and tend to her least he face the wrath of a certain pirate. He laughed in spite of himself. That was something he didn't want to have to deal with at all.

Satisfied that he'd pulled himself together, he pushed all other thoughts from his mind and lifted himself onto his feet. He peeked in through the door and sure enough, Hawke was lying still and breathing normally. Still unsure whether to finish applying the salve right now, he thought it would be better to forgo that a while longer and concentrate on the potion. He lifted the lid on the cup and swirled the contents with his finger. It was cold now, and the herbs had dissolved beautifully, releasing their medicinal properties into the water making a rich soup able to heal the most tricky of wounds. There was enough here for at least three treatments, so he could give her some now and some later if she needed it.

Settling himself beside her, he scooped her up so she was in a sitting position, and before he could get all flustered again, he made doubly sure the blanket that covered her had no chance of falling down. Tilting her head back, he let the edge of the cup touch her lips and used it to pry open her mouth slightly. As awkward as it was to do, he managed to tip the cup enough so a wash of potion entered her mouth, and to his dismay, dribbled out of the corners of her mouth and down the side of her chin and neck.

Frustration hit him and he cursed, setting the cup aside so he could clean her up. Her swallowing reflex wasn't kicking in, but between holding her up and holding the cup, he needed a third hand right now to coax her throat into working. He thought a moment. He could wait until the morning and ask Rin for help. Or, he could just wake her up right now. As soon as the idea popped into his head, he dismissed it. Waiting until the morning would just put unnecessary stress on Hawkes body, and waking Rin right now was just cruel. She'd been through so much lately and needed her rest. No, he knew exactly what he had to do.

With the cup in his hand again, he took a mouthful of the potion. It swirled in his mouth and made his tongue tingle, the taste a pleasant reminder of crisp green apples. Setting the cup down, he turned to look at Hawke, then at her lips, and leaned down towards her. Using his thumb to open her mouth, he brought his lips down onto hers and let the potion pass from his mouth and into hers, then worked his hand gently at her throat until he felt her start to swallow. He let it happen slowly, relishing the warmth of her lips on his. How they curved in just the right places and seemed to fit his perfectly. His grip on her tightened, and without meaning to his eyes slid shut as he lost himself in the feeling. He pulled her closer against his chest when somehow the hand he was using to hold her up, was now entangled in her blonde hair, while his other hand was carefully stroking the bare, cool skin of her back.

This wasn't right, and he knew it. Deep down he knew he should stop. The potion was gone, she'd swallowed it all. So why wasn't he stopping? He wanted to pull back, he knew it was the right thing to do, but... he just couldn't do it. His mouth moved, and surprisingly – so did hers. He caught her lower lip between his, fighting the internal struggle that was raging within him to let his tongue dart out and allow himself one little taste of her.

No! No, this isn't like you Sebastian! Stop being an idiot and end this right now before it's too late!

His brow furrowed, and with great effort he let his stolen kiss go, and mentally kicked himself. This was way out of line, especially for him. How was he ever going to look Hawke in the eye again after what he had done?

Pulling back an inch, he opened his eyes to look down at her, and was met by the most greenest, shimmering eyes he'd ever seen. Then those eyes turned dark and narrowed, and Hawke was frowning.

Sebastian froze. He'd been caught red-handed, and in his head, among all the damning thoughts and collective excuses, only one thing came tumbling from his accursed lips, and he whispered.

"Oh...balls."