It took him a moment to remember where he was and navigate the quickest route to Fenris' bedroom. The way Fenris' hard body pressed against his own overly sensitive one with each step didn't help matters, either. At least his thighs — and oh Maker, they were such strong thighs — kept Hawke's pants in place.

"What do you want me to do?"

Fenris sucked lazily on Hawke's neck and did not answer. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, Hawke prompted him again.

"What do you want? You weren't shy when you described your dreams for me." And in case it wasn't clear, in case Fenris had any remaining doubt whatsoever, he added: "I'll do anything you ask."

"I want so much."

"Then let's start with what you want the most." He stepped around a broken floorboard and adapted Fenris' own words. "We'll do the rest later."

He made it all the way to the threshold of the door before Fenris murmured softly near his ear, as if his desire was too outrageous, too exorbitant to be spoken out loud. "Your mouth. I want your mouth on me again."

Warmth spread through Hawke's chest and he wet his lips as he mutely nodded.

They'd reached the bed in the corner. Hawke braced a knee on the mattress and leaned forward until Fenris let go and fell back on the simple, cotton cover with a soft grunt. Since undoing the lacing would take time and Hawke didn't want to make him wait, he dipped down to nuzzle and mouth the hard ridge of his cock through the soft leather. He was rewarded with a sudden, hitched breath, and eager fingers delved into his hair to spur him on.

He'd discovered the previous time that Fenris didn't make much noise. He never cried out, nor did he say much, and if he moaned it was muffled. At first Hawke had been disconcerted and worried he'd done something wrong, until it dawned on him that Fenris' silence was a hallmark of his time as a slave. He'd learned not to voice his pleasure; it only ever lead to ridicule or punishment, or both. But what he wasn't able to express in sounds he made up for in touch, in actions, and while Hawke blindly tugged on the lacing by his hip, Fenris squirmed under him and made a go at forcing the leggings down.

Between them, they succeeded in pushing both the leather and his smalls far enough down to give Hawke access. The smell and taste of lyrium was much stronger here, but Hawke welcomed it. Fenris no longer tasted of lyrium to him, but lyrium had come to taste like Fenris.

He took Fenris' cock lightly in hand and lapped at him with a wide, flat tongue. He followed the whole length from the scant, dark hairs at the base all the way up to the rounded head, again and again, until he was slick and — Isabela would be proud — glistening in the firelight.

This gentle and careful treatment was clearly not what Fenris had in mind. He muttered a barely audible curse and grabbed a fistful of sheets, and one of his feet tried in vain to find purchase against the mattress. It kept slipping. Hawke took pity on it, wrapped his arm around Fenris' thigh, and guided his knee over one broad shoulder. After a final, teasing lick he peered up. Fenris laid propped up on one elbow, his tunic rucked up above his navel, face flushed and eyes pleading.

Some things did not need to be said.

Hawke smiled to himself, relaxed his jaw, and took as much of Fenris' cock as he could comfortably manage. The fingers in his hair scratched against his scalp, begging for more, and he pushed himself a little further before he began to move. He paid attention to Fenris' ragged breathing, the stifled gasps he felt more than heard, and the way the muscles of his stomach grew taut and sometimes trembled. They instructed him where Fenris could not, and he adapted his pace to match.

The underside was particularly sensitive due to the thick, white line that marred the skin, but Hawke knew and avoided putting any direct pressure on it. There would be no pain tonight, only pleasure. The head had no markings, which meant he could do whatever he pleased. Each time he rose up until only the tip of Fenris' cock was left in his mouth he swallowed hard around it while his tongue swirled over the slit and lapped up any fresh offerings.

When Fenris was no longer able to hold back soft, strangled moans, Hawke sped up. It wasn't long before he fell back on the bed with a muted groan and his hands dropped from Hawke's head to grab his shoulder and claw uselessly at the bed with blunt nails. He didn't warn Hawke, but he didn't need to: as he lost control the markings on his body pulsed with blue light. Scattered flickers at first, then all of them lit up at once. Seconds later he shuddered and went still. Hawke stayed on him and swallowed until there was nothing more.

The thought occurred to him that it was little different than downing a lyrium potion. Merely seeing one would likely turn Hawke's face red from now on, as his mind took him back to this moment and the taste of Fenris on his tongue. But that was a fact best kept to himself.

He took the time to ease Fenris' smalls up so they wouldn't become uncomfortable, but left his tights a half-undone mess. They'd have to come off sooner or later anyway. Fenris reached out a shaking hand, either in invitation or demand, and Hawke crawled up to lie beside him.

"You like that, huh?"

Fenris hadn't quite gotten his breathing back to normal, but he managed a hoarse laugh. His face glowed with heat and he wore the kind of smile he otherwise never did. He was happy. That happiness, and the aftermath of pleasure, lead him to speak candidly.

"No one ever did that for me." He stretched beside Hawke and hummed with contentment. "Until you."

"You're joking. You never had someone suck you?"

But even as he said it, he realised his own naiveté. Of course no one would give pleasure like that to a slave. The most they could hope for were stolen moments among each other, hidden from their master and at the risk of punishment. Fenris hadn't been like the other slaves; Danarius kept him close, always. He'd never had the chance.

Not until that fateful night when Hawke had slid down the wall and taken him in his mouth, heedless of the significance. Unaware of the monumental shift in Fenris' worldview. With the blood of a hated mage barely washed off his hands and the shadow of one even worse looming over him, another mage had dropped to his knees and sucked him off.

No wonder he'd been so stunned.

No wonder he was silent, now.

Before the silence could get any more awkward, Hawke rallied. "Hey, does that mean I got to be your first?"

Fenris groaned and ran a hand over his face. "Unless biting counts, yes."

If he hadn't covered his eyes, he'd have seen Hawke's goofy smile turn into a look of disbelief, before it transformed into horror.

"If it matters, you are the first and only one I have lain with willingly, Hawke." Fenris sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "Can we talk about something else?"

"An excellent suggestion." Hawke cleared his throat and tried to quell the urge for revenge on Fenris' behalf. When the time came, vengeance belonged to Fenris and Fenris alone. Hawke would be there, but he would not steal that from him, no matter how badly he wanted to tear Danarius to shreds with his own hands.

A far more pleasant thought came to mind, and he jumped on it. "You know, if you moved in with me, I could wake you up with my mouth every morning."

Fenris turned his head and frowned at him, unimpressed. "Bribery, Hawke?"

"Did you think I was above it?"

"I know you are not. And you know I will not give up my independence."

They've had this argument before. It's comfortable territory with well-rehearsed lines, even if they've never had the conversation in bed before. Hawke no longer remembered when it first took place, but he was reasonably sure it predated their previous night together.

Hawke hated that Fenris insisted on living in squalor and filth in a mansion permeated with his former master's cruelty and mummified corpses littering the floor. Not to mention the isolation meant precious time lost if any of the slavers were successful in overpowering him. He suspected it came down to Fenris not believing he deserved better, and perhaps deeper down, his inability to cut the last chain that bound him to his past. To the only life he'd known.

The situation frustrated Hawke to no end, but he understood he couldn't simply kidnap Fenris and install him in his own house. He had to come willingly. Had to want it for himself.

Hawke would keep asking until he did, so he knew the option was there.

"If Danarius shows up, we'll find out about it even if you live with me."

"No."

"We wouldn't have to share a bed."

"No."

"You'd have your own space—"

"No."

"-And could come and go as you wanted."

"No."

Fenris' lines are much easier to memorize than Hawke's. Sometimes he changes his for fun and tries to trip Fenris up. It hasn't worked so far.

"Just think about it."

"No."

"The bed in the guestroom is much softer than this one."

"No."

"It is, though."

"I will concede that may be true, but it's irrelevant. I will not sleep in it."

"This place is falling apart."

"Let it."

"You could have an entire floor of the house if you wanted."

Fenris deviated from his blanket refusal and raised an eyebrow. "And you would sneak up to my room every morning to suck me?"

Hawke shrugged, smiling. "Not like it'd be a hardship."

"You realize the offer does not have the same effect when you literally just made me come."

"Good point. I'll tempt you tomorrow."

Fenris rolled his eyes and shifted onto his side, but there was a small smile curling his mouth.

Hawke huffed, like he always did at the end of their scripted argument. "Will you at least consider it? The roof will cave in on you one of these days."

"I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask."

"No, it is not. But it's all you will get for now."

Fenris nudged his shoulder and Hawke let himself be pushed over on his side as well, facing away. Fenris curled up behind him, his knees tucking into the back of Hawke's, and his arm slid around Hawke's waist.

"I'm much bigger than you; wouldn't it be better if we turned around the other way?"

Fenris tensed and went still. "No."

The way he said it, so markedly different from all his other refusals and with an undertone of fear, made Hawke tense, too. Biting his lip, he found Fenris' hand where it lay against his own belly, and squeezed it.

"Does it bother you to… have someone against your backside?"

Fenris voice was small, almost apologetic, even though he spoke the word firmly. "Yes."

"That's fine. We can lie like this."

But Fenris was troubled and tightened his hold on Hawke. "I wish I could, but—"

"Hey, there are people with far worse hang-ups than that, for reasons not nearly as good as yours. Making me be the little spoon isn't a big deal. I like it."

The room was quiet for a while.

"Hawke?"

"Yes?"

"I am not sure if—" Fenris swallowed and started again. "I may never let you fuck me."

Hawke pushed up on an elbow and peered over his shoulder. Fenris averted his eyes downward so all Hawke could see were tufts of white hair over a tight-lipped mouth. He looked so small and fragile, tucked up against Hawke's larger body.

"Fen, that's not why I'm with you."

"You need to know it's a possibility."

"Alright. Noted. But I'm not going anywhere." He turned and laid back down on the pillow. "It doesn't matter to me."

After a few moments had passed, Fenris spoke again.

"Do you not want to?"

"Of course I do." He hesitated, and cleared his throat to give himself a chance to think. "Perhaps it's wrong to say it doesn't matter. I've… thought about it. Sometimes. But when I've imagined it, when I've dreamed about it, you always want it, too. You enjoy it. And if reality is that you won't, that you're not comfortable, or that it'll bring back bad memories, I'd rather it stayed a dream."

Hawke smiled slightly, and even though Fenris didn't see, it could be heard in his tone. "Every dream doesn't have to come true. As long as I get to be with you, that's all I want. That's what matters."

"Hmm." Their hands were still linked, and now it was Fenris' turn to squeeze Hawke's. "Sometimes I struggle to believe you are real. That someone like you exists."

"I'm a rare breed."

"You are."

There was an edge to Fenris' voice, and his hand tightened around Hawke's again. He might not have said the words, but Hawke felt them all the same.

I love you.

Hawke closed his eyes, his chest warm and somehow too tight. Fenris twined their fingers.

"And you're not as difficult as you think yourself to be. I could do without all the waiting, but when we get to it, the rest… the rest is just details. Everyone has preferences and things they don't like. I do, too." He hesitated and turned his head slightly, aware he was about to dip his toe into dangerous territory. "Would you walk out if there was something I wasn't comfortable doing?"

"No."

"I won't do that to you, either."

"It's not a preference." Fenris shifted behind him and pressed his nose against the nape of Hawke's neck. "And it is not some small detail. It's a significant imbalance."

It was clear he argued for the sake of arguing, now, without any vehemence involved. Hawke was happy to provide all the reassurance he needed. Especially when he touched his lips to Hawke's skin.

"An imbalance I am perfectly okay with." He was momentarily distracted by Fenris trailing a series of light, little kisses along his hairline, up toward his ear, and struggled to continue his train of thought. "But if you really want to, you can make it up to me in other ways. That'd offset it just fine."

"Hmm. How?"

Fenris had reached the back of his ear and licked along the curve of the lobe. Then he nipped at it, hard, and made Hawke yelp. Fenris wasn't good at being gentle, but Hawke didn't mind one bit. They'd work on gentle. In the meantime, he welcomed rough and hard with open arms.

"Fuck me." He wasn't surprised to hear the words come out sounding more like a plea than a demand. "Often. Every day. No, twice a day. Until I can't walk straight and everyone side-eyes us with disgust."

"That is a tall order."

"I have faith in you."

Behind him, Fenris reached down and adjusted himself. Hawke drew in a sharp breath when he settled back against Hawke's ass. He was half-hard again, and even through the clothes Hawke could feel him getting harder.

"Oh." He smiled. "Is it later?"

"Do you want it to be?"

As much as he wanted to moan — or possibly shout — his encouragement, he forced himself to hold back.

"Do you?"

Fenris wiggled his hips. "I thought it was clear."

"No, I mean..." Hawke swallowed and wondered how to phrase this in a delicate manner. He didn't think Fenris was ready to have the talk yet, but for Hawke's own peace of mind they had to at least touch on the topic. "Last time, you weren't alright, after. I don't want that to happen again."

Fenris was quiet for what felt like an eternity, but his hand remained linked with Hawke's to let him know he was still there. Finally, he spoke:

"I cannot guarantee it won't. But if my memories return again, I am prepared for it. They will not affect me as badly as they did." He pressed another kiss to Hawke's neck. "And I will not leave."

Hawke let out a pent-up, relieved breath.

"Can I see you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I want to be face to face. Skin on skin. I want to feel you against me. I want to see you."

"I suppose." Fenris spoke in an indulgent tone, a benevolent ruler granting a minor request, but dropped the charade to bite Hawke's ear again. "I intended to undress you anyway."

That first night, so long ago, they hadn't managed to remove any of their clothes. As soon as they'd made it to the bedroom, Fenris had bent Hawke over his own desk, sending papers and quills flying, and yanked his breeches and smalls down only as far as was necessary. For a few seconds Hawke had expected to be taken roughly, a thought that held both uncertainty and more excitement than he was willing to admit. But then he'd felt silken hair against his tailbone and Fenris had plunged his tongue inside him instead. He'd fucked Hawke like that, hot and wet, while his arm had wrapped around and allowed for Hawke to thrust into Fenris' hand in return. Once he began to leak, Fenris had pulled back and used Hawke's own slick to spread him open with his long, slender fingers until he was a whimpering, pleading mess on the verge of release.

They'd stumbled into bed, Hawke on his back and Fenris over him. In a bid to stave off the inevitable Hawke had reached up to undo the hooks of Fenris' tunic. He'd wanted to slow down and touch bare skin, but Fenris had caught Hawke's wrists and pinned them down on the mattress.

"No," he'd growled, and his eyes had been wild and hungry. Desperate. "I need to— I need you."

How was Hawke meant to resist? He should have known better, but he was only human. He'd kicked the leathers down to his ankles and brought his knees up to cradle Fenris between them. And when Fenris had invaded him with a muffled groan and began to move, Hawke hadn't lasted long.

Neither had Fenris.

Still in the aftermath of his own release, Hawke had held him as he shook and the blue lights painted abstract shadows on the walls. He'd felt Fenris' body go limp and boneless atop him, and had murmured soft words into his ear.

Only afterward had they undressed, and Hawke had gone to sleep sated and full in a way no other lover had made him.

If he had known, then, what he was about to lose, he'd have done everything differently. He'd have taken his time, made it last, and done more to make sure Fenris was alright. It likely wouldn't have mattered, but he would have done it regardless.

Fenris meant the world to him.

Now they were here again, had found their way back into bed by some miracle of the Maker, and Hawke's throat tightened with emotion.

Fenris sat up, swung his legs off the bed, and made quick work of his underclothes while Hawke pulled off his shirt. When he began to undo his tunic, Hawke caught his hands.

"Let me? Please."

Fenris lifted a brow, but lowered his hands.

Hawke flashed him a smile of gratitude. "I've never truly seen you naked."

"I know."

"Do you not want me to?"

"No, it's fine. I am just not—" Fenris shook his head. "I would have preferred if my body was clean for you. Free of these accursed markings."

It went deeper than the marks, Hawke knew. Fenris wished his past undone, wished no other hands had defiled him, so he could come to Hawke unburdened and pure. Untouched and whole. He couldn't see how it only gave more meaning to his wanting to be with Hawke.

"I know you hate them. I know they symbolize everything he did to you, and the indignities you had to suffer." Gently, he put a hand on Fenris' shoulder and applied pressure. Fenris resisted for a split second, then allowed himself to be pushed back. "But you've taken them and made them yours. They don't serve him anymore, they serve you. And one day, soon, you'll use them to kill him."

He started at the top and undid the first clasp at Fenris' throat. "They're beautiful. You are beautiful."

Each move was slow, he took his time and carefully unhooked each loop before moving on to the next. "I understand that wasn't a good thing. It was a curse. People want what's beautiful. They wanted you, and you had no choice. No freedom."

The last one hid under Fenris' cock. Hawke lifted it aside, and dipped down to press a quick, tender kiss to the tip before he undid the final clasp. "But you've left them behind. There's no one here but you and me."

And I love you.

The tunic fell open, but Hawke avoided lifting up to look. Instead he stayed close to Fenris' stomach and kissed the pristine area below his navel. His skin tasted of fresh, slightly salty sweat and the ever-present lyrium. His cock, hot and fully hard now, prodded Hawke's cheek and brought with it the musky scent of arousal. He smiled and turned to flick his tongue at it.

"Venhedis, Hawke. If you do not stop that I'll—" He cut himself off to swallow down a moan when Hawke did it again.

"Ask me to suck you off one more time?" Hawke purred. "That offer of doing so daily still stands."

Amidst the string of rapid, Tevene curse-words there were some Hawke had never heard before. He considered that a badge of honor.

Fenris hauled him up along his torso by the hair, and not kindly so either, sabotaging Hawke's plan to kiss and lick his way upward. Once they were face to face, he pulled Hawke in for a brief, bruising kiss, and practically snarled. "Get those pants off. Now."