Hawke's kiss was rough, desperate; this time Varric didn't turn it into their usual dance, sparring on so many levels, neither of them yielding easily. Didn't resist, accepting whatever Hawke needed to take from him right now, trusting him. He let Hawke pull him to his feet, steer them both forcibly towards the bed, shedding clothes in careless violence; Varric was fairly sure he'd worn that shirt for the last time in its current form.

Hands turned him over as the bed met the back of his legs and then Varric bit back a hiss as one, then a second finger breached him in quick succession, spit-slicked but too much too fast. Hawke's usually inventively dextrous hands now awkward, although Varric could feel the force he was only partially successfully trying to hold back in the tension trembling through the hand heavy on his back.

Varric shifted his hips, trying to smooth the edges of the uneven prep, to ease the sharp burn of a third finger enough that he could whisper "take what you need Sweeps".

To relax enough not to pull away as Hawke took him at his word in a single shove because he would let Hawke have this; ignoring the internal query on whether this was some form of self-imposed penance.

The bruising movement of Hawke's hips was scattered, jerking, his hands digging in hard enough Varric knew he'd be marked tomorrow. Varric raised himself on his knees a little higher under that grip; just enough to get a hand on his own erection, shaky under the roughness that had the pain wound a couple of notches too high. Focussing on the balance of the smaller, easier sensations under his own hands; stroking himself, drawing enough pleasure in a counter-rhythm he could work with to ride the thrusts as he let Hawke fuck him through the mattress, hearing the other's breath coming in short, rasping gasps.

When Hawke's breath hitched and his tempo increased Varric's own touch became firmer, faster as he let his orgasm take him; relaxing with the heat that pulsed through him on release turning everything languidly fuzzy for a few moments, even as he clenched painfully tightly around Hawke when the warrior shuddered under his own climax with a low, guttural cry. Hawke sagged against him, his breath heaving, and Varric felt a wetness patter against his back, light against the weight pinning him down.

-o-o-o-

Varric allowed himself one wince, silently to the mattress at the raw ache that most likely meant blood as Hawke pulled out abruptly; and he'd probably pay for it over the next couple of days. But he'd had rougher, and with worse intentions; and none of that mattered as he turned a little stiffly to see the tears and the dawning look of horror on Hawke's face as he straightened.

"I hurt you" Hawke's words were as shaky as the look in his eyes. "Oh Gods, Varric I'm sorry please…I didn't mean…I'm sorry-"

"Hey, hey sshhh listen; Cian look at me." Varric reached up to gently capture Hawke's tear-streaked face between his hands.

"You didn't hurt me. If you had I'd have told you to stop."

Truth as far as it went and no need to quibble over which elements could be accused of being stretched.

"And yes; you would have. I know you."

That he believed, and he was no stranger to deliberate cruelty. Hawke watched him, the fire in those copper eyes dulled by guilt and uncertainty; and Varric put everything he had into his next words.

"Cian I know it's a harder path, but you're a survivor, not a victim; and you have nothing to be ashamed of. You'll find a way through this but please, you don't have to do it alone."

Hawke stared at him for a moment longer before ducking his head as a shudder ran through him, hiding the tears that ran freely now. He wouldn't look at Varric, turning away to curl up at the bed's edge; but he didn't pull away as the rogue tucked in behind him. Carefully at first, Varric wouldn't push that space too far; but when there was no resistance he pulled Hawke to him, enfolding him in a fierce embrace. Resting his head against the back of Hawke's neck, trying to offer comfort through the closeness of skin against skin against the sobs of pain and rage that wracked Hawke's frame, for all that they were near silent.

Varric didn't say "sshhh", or "it'll be alright" because some lies had no place; but he lost count of the whispered truths "I love you" and "I'm here".

-o-o-o-

Eventually the tears eased to choked uneven breaths; Hawke pulled away slightly, getting shakily to his feet as Varric let him go. Going just far enough to scrounge a healing flask from amongst the clutter on the near table, holding it out to Varric with a look that might have been trying for 'won't take no for an answer' if not for the edge of pleading. Varric rolled his eyes just enough to imply how entirely superfluous it was, keeping anything else from his expression as he felt the effects kick in and wondering where they went from here.

"Varric…" Hawke's eyes flicked away and back to his with an effort. "I need-" his jaw tightened as he swallowed. "I want you to take me."

Oh Demonpiss. Why had he known on some level that this was where they'd end up; somewhere that he wanted to be anywhere but? Knew that look of Hawke's that said things that scared you had to be provoked on general principle; but could hear the fear behind the request.

"Sweeps, we don't have to do this now."

/Dammit you idiot wonderful human, you don't ever have to prove anything to me./

Varric wondered if there was guilt over what had happened tonight layered into this, and decided that that was one game he was sodding well ready to fold out of.

"Yes; we do. Because he won't be dead until then."

Varric considered refusing, any number of prevarications running through his head, weighing up whether it would do more harm than good.

/You wanted to be the one to help, the one that Hawke trusted. Is that trust going to run both ways?

/…Reluctantly, yes./

But if they were going to do this, they were damn well going to do it properly. Varric pulled two of the (decadently) soft cloths from the plentiful pile by the bed, handing one to Hawke. Cleaning away, hopefully in more ways than one, what had gone before; if you believed in symbolic gestures. And well, he made a living out of them.

"Any when, any why, we stop; alright?" He waited until he god a nod of understanding, even if it didn't completely cover the uneasiness as Hawke turned to lie down.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

He tensed in spite of himself but Varric's hands, touched with oil, were sure and gentle, their strength roaming across his back and shoulders, seeking out and gradually easing the knotted tangles of muscles built up over too many recent distraction attempts. Working their way lower in tandem with Varric's weight balanced lightly across him, the better to reach. A very naked Varric it was hard not to notice, but the rogue's touch remained friendly and Hawke felt himself slowly yielding to it as it drifted over his lower back, across his ass and down each leg in turn.

By the time Varric reached the soles of both feet there was a warm humming across his body that felt thick enough to curl up in and have things stay the way they were for roughly forever. What he'd asked Varric seeming like insanity even by his standards, even as part of his mind whispered that things couldn't stay this good until he'd faced it, beaten it…But he could feel the tension of fear crawling back in cold under the glow, and Varric's out clause was looking so very tempting- until hands riffled playfully through the hair at the nape of his neck, trailing down to start at his shoulders again; still gentle but now seeking spots to draw out another sort of warmth.

Varric's fingers grazed teasingly across ribs and hips, as his mouth laved lines of heat and kisses down Hawke's spine, eventually closing over the spot that the rogue, sneaky bastard, had found a long time ago a little off his tailbone; that sent pleasure shivering out across his nerves at the gentlest pressure of teeth.

Hands palmed the cheeks of his ass, Varric's weight nestled just behind him between his legs, a thumb sliding softly down the cleft and across his entrance to pause, flicking and nudging slow caresses around the ring of muscles.

"Remember hide-and-seek at your place?"

Oh the 'explanations' that had required. Varric's roughly-purred reminiscence, in rhythm with his hand pulled a half-smile from Hawke in spite of himself.

"You hid on top of the bed canopy. Naked as I recall." Actually the fabric had proved surprisingly resilient; for a while. "Cheater."

"And where's the fun without a challenge? That time in the Viscount's gardens for example…" as Varric spoke he slid one finger in, slow and easy and gentle "and how many Hightown rooftops was it…?" The words interrupted Hawke's reflexive start, reminding him who was with him, where he was; along with a dozen other stories of past shenanigans. One hand tracing across his back, the other inside him as one finger gradually became two, then three; stretching and filling him without pain, until the gentleness itself became a tease every time Varric's fingers curled inside him, just enough to hit that spot deep inside and send sparks dancing through his belly on every stroke. Sensation building and ebbing as he moved against them and the sudden lack as Varric eased out had him shifting his hips as much in frustration as apprehension.

There was a question in Varric's eyes as Hawke rolled over to face him, clear even through the arousal burning them almost to russet brown; a reassurance that even now they could pull back, stop. The knowledge that he could let him decide that he didn't need to. Hawke nodded in answer as Varric stroked a hand down the side of his face, thumb brushing lightly across Hawke's lips, the caring in the gesture so much at odds with everything else of that evening, mostly because of him…the momentary flicker of guilt had him thinking how bloody sick he was of that particular emotion haunting this relationship.

Until the slight burn as Varric started to enter him, tightness riding that edge between pleasure and pain that usually he loved was suddenly enough to send memory smashing across his vision of-

…wood and metal digging at his back, cold light above him…pain nailing him in place…

"Cian."

…and pale eyes laughing at his helplessness as-

…not here.

The eyes above him were warm and dark as Hawke found and fixed on them; gradually relaxing enough to register the bed beneath him, its surroundings familiar, private. And eventually to nod the desire to continue firmly enough to ease minutely the concern in Varric's gaze as he waited, movement stilled; poised an instant away from invoking his own words.

After a long, considering moment Varric continued to ease into him slow and smooth, until he sat fully sheathed, one hand caressing Hawke's thigh in reassurance not restraint, the other lightly cupping his ass. And Hawke's hands clutched at the rumpled linens, his breath coming in a rough exhale as Varric began to move, a lazy, rolling glide that was both maddening and wonderful. Angling his hips to brush just so inside him precisely often enough to promise everything and leaving him wanting more…

Until fingers wrapped around his cock, painfully hard in the heat of the room and lack of contact, and not enough suddenly became too much and so fucking good all at once as Varric's hand slid along him in a counterpoint to the rhythm of his hips that said he's just showing off now. With every stroke along Hawke's shaft, firm then soft, palm encircling and tugging at the rim at the base of the crown before sliding up across his head to slick him with his own wetness.

Hawke could see it in Varric's eyes, under the desire there was a care, a joy in being able to offer this, to replace memories of pain with pleasure. And Hawke drank it in along with the sight of Varric kneeling in front of him, the lanterns' light playing off muscles and tinting that pelt of hair that Hawke had fallen for (among other things) like a drunk off the docks, taking every cliché with him along the way.

And through the smell of sex and sweat, from the bed that's his more than anything at the estate these days, the scent that is uniquely Varric's. The tang of warm earth but with an edge of something deeper and cooler- for all that Varric's a surface dwarf the stone stays with him- and underneath a hint of something, like smoke. Hawke decided a while back it was secrets, secrets that you probably weren't supposed to know but it was so much more fun when you did.

A thumbnail traced between his balls, up the underside of his shaft, sending him bucking into the hand winding a tight spiral around him as a thumb delved, caressing into his slit. Somehow Varric kept his rhythm although Hawke could feel the fine tremors of effort that it took rippling through the heat and tightness building in tiny, flickering pulses.

"Varric…fuck…please…" Hawke's pleas gasped through their breathing hitching in and out around each other. For a brief, teasing eternity Varric held the pace before lifting it as his thrusts became longer, firmer. Hawke could feel the heat building deeper now as Varric's hand bobbed shallowly at the base of his cock, fingers twining to brush across his balls once, twice, three times as the orgasm hit him hard and fast, sending him arching against the bed, gasping out hoarse, half-formed curses, pleasure arcing through him in waves as he tightened around Varric, drawing a sound half cry, half growl from the rogue as he shuddered in his own finish inside Hawke; setting the sensations of tightness and release sparking again and again off one another white-hot.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Slow and gentle wasn't generally how they ended up, but maybe there was something to it outside of prose. Yeah, he'd get around to considering that; sometime. Right after his breathing slowed and his eyes remembered how to focus. Varric settled back on his heels a little shakily as Hawke's eyes opened to meet his. Foremost in them was relief, but also the faint rekindling of their former fire as the shadows faded a little more; making Varric promise he'd see them gone one way of the other.

Hawke sat up slowly, before reaching out to pull Varric to him and Gods be good there was the bear hug he'd waited for too bloody long to give and get back. No bears in Orzammar? Irrelevant detail, you wanna make something of it…? Kneeling a little awkwardly on Hawke's thighs but it was a convenient reason to hold on tighter, putting them at just the right height to rest his head against Hawke's shoulder, feeling the other's buried in the crook of his neck. Breathing in the warrior's scent that tasted of outdoors and the wilds, but in a good way for once, and underneath it metal; the hotter living tang of copper.

"Sweeps?" Varric asked quietly when Hawke eventually drew back just enough to look at him again. "Are we good, between us? This night, past nights; can we let them go, start again? 'Cause I gotta say, running the numbers, guilt makes a really lousy tenant."

"Yeah" Hawke whispered after a moment. "Sounds like a plan. It never did put anything towards rent."

The faint smile that actually reached Hawke's eyes for the first time in too long seemed like a fine return for his efforts. The kiss that Hawke pulled him in for, well that was just an added bonus.

"Since when did you end up owning yet another blanket?" Hawke enquired; when at some point they decided that the bed would be warmer and more comfortable if it was dragged into some condition above 'laundry pile'.

Actually there were three, light enough to be layered on as needed to ward against nocturnal 'migrations' but the red one was the most striking; intricate black knots curling across the deep scarlet. And, now that you mention it the colours would be complementary to a naked human sprawled across them…how about that.

"Never hurts to be prepared; since you like that one it's yours, but I have to warn you there's a thief known to work this area; subtle, tricky to catch, and I should know." Varric settled under the covers, rolling onto one side to watch as Hawke joined him, the offer there to be taken up, or not.

"For blankets? Seems strictly amateur." A hesitation, there and gone, before Hawke curled up beside him, settling his head against chest and shoulder as Varric gently drew him in. One hand reached out to idly trace through curls of hair.

"I can think of far more valuable things around here to steal."

/And I know for a fact you've stolen one thing pretty thoroughly./

The fact that that particular line belonged mainly in the lexicons of blatant innuendo and over-purpled prose didn't, in this case, make it untrue.

"Daring larceny? Sounds like a plan I should know more about. And if certain blankets have to be sacrificed as a distraction to our nameless miscreant well, experience tells me the payoff will be more than worth it; I'm pretty sure I can live with that."

" 's a brilliant plan; tell you tomorrow" Hawke muttered sleepily into Varric's chest.

"I'll be waiting Cian." And since they were on the subject, thieving another kiss; because he could.

Pleasantly, the night passed unbroken if restlessly for Hawke although Varric wasn't going to complain about the interruptions; deep sleeping wasn't a recommended lifestyle choice in his line of work anyway. And when he awoke in the late morning after snatching a few hours it was to a bed creatively rearranged, to his side for once; and to Hawke still sleeping, burrowed in next to him.

As far as Varric was concerned, best night's sleep ever.