Forgive me, precious readers! I meant to get back on my regular schedule yesterday and get this published yesterday, but then my warrior play-through beckoned (it's the last class to try) and I got side-tracked. I hope this chapter makes up for it! Thank you all for reading, and my thanks to WellspringCD, my beta-reader.

Alistair woke and tried to get his bearings. It took him a moment to realise that he was in Fearghal's room, in Fearghal's bed and that Fearghal himself was wrapped around Alistair like a large human blanket. The last thing Alistair remembered, he had been curled in Fearghal's arms, head resting on his shoulder. At some point, when he was asleep, he must have turned over and Fearghal had followed him. Alistair had never woken up with someone like this; it wasn't unpleasant, just the opposite, in fact, but he was very warm.

Then Alistair remembered; he had woken up like this before, in Lothering. Except that time, he'd woken curled up against Fearghal. He groaned as he remembered his embarrassment, feeling his face flush at the memory. He felt Fearghal stir against him, the large hand that had been resting against his belly moved across his skin.

"What's the matter?" Fearghal's voice was husky and thick with sleep.

"Oh, nothing... I was just... " Alistair's breath hitched in his chest as Fearghal's lips nuzzled behind his ear.

"Just what?"

Teeth nibbled gently at Alistair's ear lobe, making it impossible to think. Maker! Who knew that ears could be so...

Alistair twisted his head, the movement pulling his ear away from Fearghal's mouth, earning a disappointed grunt. "I-I can't think straight when you do that," he told Fearghal.

"But you have such nice ears," said Fearghal with a sigh. "Go on, what were you going to say?"

"I was just thinking about that morning in Loo-ooo-oothering." Alistair's voice wobbled as Fearghal's mouth moved down his neck, to the point where it joined his shoulder, and sucked hard. Alistair felt the tension flare in the pit of his belly and couldn't help arching back against Fearghal.

"Ah, that morning, where I woke up to find you cuddling me?"

Alistair could hear the hint of laughter in Fearghal's voice, then Fearghal shifted and he felt warm, hard flesh pressed against his buttock.

"Like this?" There was a hoarse note in Fearghal's voice that sent a shiver through Alistair.

"J-just like th-that," he croaked, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Hmmm... a pleasant memory?" Fearghal's lips drifted up the back of Alistair's neck, sending a tingle down his spine.

Alistair chuckled softly. "It was... until you woke up... and woke m-me up."

Fearghal cast his mind back. He'd been hurting so badly at Lothering the only thing he could think to do was try and drown his sorrows. He'd been angry and hungover when he'd woken up to find Alistair wrapped around him. Unfortunately for Alistair, he had been the last person Fearghal wanted to wake up with. Fearghal felt a twinge of guilt; his heart still ached for Rory. He pushed the thought away; it wasn't fair to be thinking of Rory whilst in bed with Alistair.

"Sorry, I wasn't at my best. Maybe I should make it up to you?" murmured Fearghal, his mouth nipping and nuzzling at the back of Alistair's neck, whilst his hand trailed lightly down Alsitair's chest and belly.

"M-make it up to m-me?"

Fearghal felt a shiver ripple through Alistair. Maker, he's so responsive!

"I can't pretend it would be a hardship. Not a penance... more of an apology," murmured Fearghal, his mouth moving forwards, under Alistair's ear, along his jaw.

Alistair twisted his head to try to look at Fearghal, but the moment he did so the mouth that was arousing him to such a frenzy of desire was over his own, kissing him. This time, Fearghal's kiss was slow and languorous. Alistair rolled onto his back, relaxing as Fearghal leaned over him. The kiss was soothing and Alistair felt his sense of desperation ease a little, which was just as well. Fearghal had barely touched him, yet he was already rock hard.

As Fearghal kissed him, Alistair felt his hand moving over him, the touch light and teasing. Alistair marvelled that those hands, so clumsy and rough-looking, could have such a deft touch. Fearghal's fingers brushed over Alistair's chest, grazing against a nipple, and Alistair groaned as a jolt of pleasure ran through him. Unthinkingly, Alistair cupped Fearghal's head, pulling it closer. The gentle kissing, while soothing at first, was turning into torture; he wanted more. He moaned again as Fearghal's tongue plunged into his mouth and the fingers returned to his nipple, firmer this time.

A tiny part of Alistair was embarrassed at the series of gasps and moans Fearghal's mouth elicited from him as he thoroughly explored Alistair's body with mouth and hands, but his brain was flooded with too much ecstasy to care. It was a complete revelation to Alistair that it was possible to feel this much pleasure from somebody just touching him; he thought he might die from it.

Alistair felt his hips jerk of their own volition as warm breath blew over his shaft. His fists twisted into the sheet as he struggled to maintain control of himself. He lifted his head and looked down his body; Fearghal was now kneeling between his thighs, bending over his groin. As if sensing Alistair's gaze, Fearghal lifted his eyes. Holding Alistair's gaze, Fearghal bent lower and ran his tongue up Alistair's shaft, then took Alistair in his mouth, enclosing him in wet heat. Alistair's hips came off the bed as his body followed its instinct and he thrust as hard and deep as he could, groaning loudly.

Alistair's vision blurred as Fearghal's mouth moved up and down over his cock, and his head fell back. "Oh, Maker! That's... " There weren't words to describe it, or at least none that he could think of right now. Alistair concentrated his energy on trying not to thrust too hard, remembering how he'd gagged before, but it didn't seem to bother Fearghal. He could feel the tension building behind his balls, but he really didn't want to finish yet, he wanted to make this last as long as possible.

Then Alistair felt a hand on his balls, cupping then squeezing. Alistair heard the strangled moan erupt from his mouth, but couldn't have kept quiet if his life had depended on it. He felt as if he was going to explode; he was in such bliss, it was almost agonising. Alistair came with a yell, thrusting deep into Fearghal's mouth, then lay gasping on the bed. He felt as if every muscle in his body had turned to mush; his bones had simply ceased to exist. Alistair felt Fearghal's mouth withdraw; the air felt cool against his softening cock, then he felt Fearghal press a swift kiss to his groin.

Alistair looked up and saw Fearghal prowling towards him. Fearghal crawled up the bed, over Alistair's body, until he was close enough to lean forwards and kiss him lightly. Alistair was startled at the slightly bitter taste of Fearghal's mouth, realising that he could taste himself. He would have expected to find that disgusting; instead, he felt a flicker of excitement. Fearghal pushed himself up so that he was kneeling, legs straddling Alistair's waist. Alistair's eyes were drawn to the heavy erection that still jutted out from Fearghal's body.

"What do... you want... me to do?" Alistair's breath was still coming in ragged gasps.

"You don't look in any fit state to do anything!" Fearghal grinned, seemingly delighted to see Alistair in such a state. "I'll take care of it," Fearghal told him, still grinning. "You can just lie there... and watch."

Alistair felt his eyebrows shoot up. Fearghal wanted him to watch, while he... Oh, Maker! His pulse rate had only just slowed down to something approaching normal, but he felt it increase again as Fearghal slowly curled his hand around his shaft and started to stroke it slowly.

Alistair remembered two boys having been caught masturbating together at the monastery; he had being baffled as to why anyone would want to do such a thing, but as he watched Fearghal touching himself, he admitted he could see the attraction. Alistair's eyes were riveted to Fearghal's hand as he stroked and squeezed himself, occasionally running his thumb or even his palm over the glistening tip.

Alistair realised that the way Fearghal touched himself was quite different to the way that Alistair did. For Alistair, it had always been something furtive, a release he allowed himself when the urge became unbearable; a perfunctory task to be completed as quickly as possible. Even though it was now almost a year since Duncan had recruited him, it was a behaviour that had continued beyond the monastery.

Fearghal's hand pumped faster and he felt his heart pounding against his chest. He looked down at Alistair, who was watching him with an expression of wonder on his face. He is so expressive, so open. Fearghal felt the tension building, knew he wouldn't last much longer, then Alistair's eyes flicked up and the sight of Alistair, flushed with desire rather than embarrassment, eyes dark and intent, sent Fearghal over the edge. He watched Alistair start slightly as he came all over his chest, then Alistair ran his fingers through the streaks of milky fluid and licked them clean.

Fearghal groaned again, then leaned forward and kissed Alistair. "Maker's breath, Alistair! Are you sure you spent ten years in a monastery?" he growled, then flopped onto his back.

Alistair flushed. "Y-yes. Why?"

Fearghal chuckled and nuzzled Alistair's neck. "Because when you do things like that, looking like that, well, you make it very hard to be sensible and catch up on some sleep."

He saw Alistair flush. "I wonder what time it is. It's hard to tell down here."

"I don't know, but it feels late." Fearghal sighed and rolled away, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I suppose we really should get some proper sleep."

Regretfully, Alistair agreed with him. Fearghal reached into his pack and drew out a wash cloth and tossed it to Alistair and, as Alistair wiped his chest clean, Fearghal stood and turned out the last rune light, then slipped back into bed.

~o~O~o~

Fearghal was startled out of a deep sleep by a loud knocking at the door, which then opened to admit a white-haired dwarven woman, bearing two large jugs. She beamed at them and marched over to the dresser, where she deposited the jugs.

"Good morning, Wardens. I'm Runa and I've brought you some water to wash with. I took your clothes from the bathrooms; I'll have them laundered by the end of the day. Breakfast will be ready in half an hour." With that, she turned and left the room.

Glancing at Alistair, who was red-faced and open-mouthed, Fearghal chuckled and made to get out of bed, then thought better of it. Instead, he turned and kissed him deeply. Alistair seemed startled at first, then responded with enthusiasm. Fearghal withdrew only when his stomach rumbled loudly.

"I'm tempted to say 'bugger breakfast' but... I'm starving."

"Me too," said Alistair, laughing.

Fearghal got up and went behind the screen to the ingenious device Thamar had called a water closet, and relieved himself. He pulled the lever and marvelled afresh as water swirled round the pot, washing the waste away. Re-emerging, he crossed over to the dresser; one jug had hot water in it, the other cold. He poured some of each into the large basin until he was happy with the temperature and began to wash. He heard Alistair using the magical-seeming closet and turned to reach for a towel as Alistair came back out, looking a little uncertain.

Fearghal hesitated for a moment, then said, "Alistair, why don't you fetch your pack and leave your things in here?"

Alistair stared at him. "Are you sure? I mean... I don't want to... "

Quite apart from the fact that Alistair looked good enough to eat, standing there naked, Fearghal realised that he'd grown used to sharing a tent with him, used to his comforting presence when the nightmares woke him. It was a little odd to think that he'd been held in this man's arms many times in recent weeks.

"Yes, I'm sure... unless you'd rather... "

"No! I mean yes... I want to... er... I'll get my things." Alistair grabbed one of the towels they'd discarded the night before, wrapped it around his waist and hurried from the room.

It didn't take long until they were both washed and dressed. Although Fearghal had got a head start on his ablutions, he'd dallied while getting dressed, preferring to sit on the bed in his breeches watching Alistair wash instead of getting dressed. Alistair was hovering anxiously by the door when Fearghal was pulling his boots on.

"D-do you think I should go first... or maybe you should?" Alistair's face flushed.

"What on earth for?" asked Fearghal, startled by the question.

"Well... they'll know," mumbled Alistair; he looked away, unable to meet Fearghal's eyes.

"So? It's not wrong. Who cares if they know?" Fearghal felt a flash of irritation. Damned Chantry! Damned templars!

He pinned Alistair against the door and kissed him hard, feeling the shiver that ran through him. Fearghal pulled his mouth away, leaving Alistair gasping. "Does that feel wrong?" he asked.

"N-no."

Fearghal dropped his hand, cupping the growing bulge in the front of Alistair's breeches and squeezing. "What about this?" he growled.

"No," gasped Alistair, pressing into his hand.

Fearghal kissed Alistair again, rubbing his groin against him, then reluctantly pulled away. "Breakfast!" he ordered, adding,"Otherwise we'll be here all day."

The small dining room was easy to find, they just had to follow the delicious aroma. He flashed a grin at Alistair and pushed open the door. Four heads swivelled towards them as they entered, faces filled with curiosity.