His Alone
Characters: Aidyn Hawke + Fenris
Pairing: Hawke/Fenris
Rating: PG/T
Genre: Romance/Friendship
A/N: This is a…rather short one, but it felt right to end it here.
Disclaimer: Only Aidyn is mine, and even then, he still isn't.
He has moods, like any other man. Varric calls him angsty and broody and Isabella makes jokes and Merrill wonders if he ever smiles and if he's grumpy all the time and Anders cracks that if Fenris ever laughed, he'd start running in the other direction as fast as possible, but he does laugh. And smile. And joke, and tease, and play.
Fenris's laugh is low and shy, a deep, bass chuckle that always seems to surprise him. His laugh crinkles his eyes, at the corners, turns his face into something impish and young.
Some days, they will lay in bed for hours and talk and talk, and sometimes Fenris will laugh. Aidyn lays his head on the elf's chest and listens to it roll out of him, mixed with the sound of his strong, steady heartbeat.
And then there are days like today, moments like this one. Fenris has his arms around him, and they're stumbling together, sober and sane but both laughing, dancing to music only they can hear as Fenris sings to him in some strange, purring language, his silk-covered-sand voice even lower then normal and his lips so very close to Aidyn's ear. And they spin and whirl and barely misstep, because it's like they know each other better then themselves and they know how to move with one another, in battle, in dance, in play, in love.
And Fenris's hands are on his waist, and he has pulled them close together, and they are kissing but not kissing, a light, butterfly brush of still-moving lips to his own. And it is taste and feel and smell and sound for a long moment, nothing more then that. When Fenris pulls back, when the world fills back in, his eyes are dancing and he kisses Aidyn's forehead, murmurs "Anser, have I managed to shut you up at last, if only for a moment?"
"Don't ruin the mood, elf." He teases right back, and he slips his arms around Fenris's neck. And selfishly, he's glad. This laughter, this smile, these private, wonderful moments, are all his and his alone.