Andersson wakes slowly, the soft warmth of the suns spilling through the window opposite, casting a golden hue across the room. The familiar hum of the ship's systems is distant, almost comforting, blending into the stillness of the moment. He stretches, blinking away the remnants of sleep, and for the first time in what feels like years, he doesn't feel exhausted. There's no pressing weight on his chest, no immediate crisis demanding his attention. Just warmth. Just peace.
He doesn't move. Doesn't want to. The moment feels too fragile—like if he shifts, it might dissolve. So he just lies there, breathing it in. The smell of Kyle's hair—something earthy with a citrus edge. Andersson commits it to memory. Along with the rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers twitch slightly in sleep, like he's chasing something even in dreams.
It's absurd, really—how quickly this has become familiar. Comforting. Dangerous.
Andersson lets his head fall back against the pillow and stares up at the skylight. The sun's angle must have shifted during the early morning—light spills in at a different slant now, warmer, sharper. Through the tinted glass, he can just make out one of Thedas's moons—Elun, he thinks—hanging pale and silent in the morning sky, caught in that liminal space between day and night.
He wonders what time it is. Then decides he doesn't care.
His body finally feels like it's caught up.
The last few days have felt like sprinting through a dream, one revelation after another, each more impossible than the last. The moment they stepped onto Thedas, everything shifted. And now here he is, in the captain's quarters, tangled in a blanket with a man who was supposed to be just another officer.
Reece stirs slightly, pressing closer with a soft sigh. His breath skims across Andersson's chest, warm and steady. It makes something inside him ache in the best possible way.
Andersson's hand moves instinctively, fingers trailing lightly down Kyle's back, tracing the curve of his spine beneath the blanket. The skin there is warm, smooth, real. Not a fantasy. Not some fleeting shore-leave affair.
Reece stirs with a quiet murmur, blinking sleepily as he shifts against him. "Hey."
Andersson smirks, his voice still heavy with sleep. "Good morning. Getting kind of used to waking up like this."
Reece smiles, stretching slightly before slumping back against Andersson's chest. "My body hurts." A lazy grin tugs at his lips. "In a good way."
Andersson chuckles, absently running his fingers through Kyle's hair. "Same."
Reece hums contentedly, burrowing closer, his face pressing into Andersson's chest. "Just gonna snooze here for a bit." His voice is a drowsy mumble, utterly at ease.
He shifts slightly, lips brushing lightly against Andersson's skin before murmuring, "Mine."
Andersson exhales, something deep in his chest tightening. His hand rests against the small of Reece's back, holding him there, absorbing the quiet weight of that single word.
Yeah. He thinks. Yours.
For a minute, he didn't think about the mission. Didn't think about the ship. Didn't think about anything beyond the way Reece fit against him like he belonged there.
And that realization tightens something in Andersson's chest.
This wasn't just about attraction. Not anymore.
Something had shifted in the quiet of the night, something unspoken settling between them—solid, real, unshaken. There's no regret, no second-guessing, no guilt gnawing at him.
For the first time in a long time, Andersson feels like he's exactly where he's supposed to be.
Maybe us being flung into another galaxy was a good thing, he thinks, his fingers absentmindedly brushing through Kyle's hair. I haven't felt this content in years.
It's a terrifying thought in its own way. Because it means something. Kyle means something.
He lets out a quiet sigh, still not fully ready to face the chaos waiting outside this room—the politics, the missions, the looming dangers—but right now? Right now, none of it matters.
Because this moment is theirs.
The peaceful moment is interrupted by EDI's voice crackling through the comms, sharp and clear despite the early morning.
"Captain, Inquisitor Karass has arrived at the airlock, he is requesting access to the ship."
Andersson's eyes fly open. The warmth in his chest vanishes like mist. He stiffens beneath Kyle, who stirs slightly but doesn't wake.
"What?" he mutters, heart lurching. "He's here? Shit."
He sits up slowly, careful not to jostle Reece too much, even as the calm of the morning disintegrates around him. Thedas must run on an entirely different clock. Karass showing up without notice wasn't just unexpected—it was a power move.
Not like this. Not now.
He wasn't ready.
He taps the comm by the bedside, voice low but clipped. "EDI, show him to the briefing room. Tell him I'll be there in five. And get Hale up."
"Understood, Captain."
The line goes dead. So does the moment.
He glances down at Kyle, who is still half-dazed, his head resting against Andersson's chest. The peaceful moment from before now seems worlds away. Andersson quickly shakes him gently, tapping his shoulder.
"Get up," he says, voice laced with urgency.
Reece stirs, groggily blinking up at him. His eyes are still heavy from sleep, his mind clearly struggling to catch up with the situation. "What? What's going on?" he asks, his voice thick with confusion.
Andersson moves quickly, pulling himself up to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "Karass is here. We've got about five minutes, so get moving," he says, already standing up and grabbing his uniform.
Reece rubs his face, still half-caught between waking up and jumping into action. "Okay, okay," he mutters, starting to sit up. He stretches, clearly not used to being pulled out of a restful sleep this way, but the urgency in Andersson's tone pushes him into motion. Damn, he's early. What, did he sprint here from Skyhold?" Reece grumbles as he pulls on his underwear, still moving like his brain hasn't caught up with his body. "Can't we tell him to come back after breakfast?"
Reece stretches lazily, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips as he leans against the counter. "Just don't show him to the bar—it's still kind of a mess from last night."
Andersson shoots him a look, lips twitching in amusement. "Noted."
Andersson exhales a deep breath as he starts to move toward his quarters' entrance, his thoughts racing. Time to get back to business.
As Reece finishes pulling on his jumpsuit and joins Andersson by the door, the air between them feels heavy with unspoken words. They both know they have to push past whatever happened earlier and focus on the task ahead.
Before they leave, Reece leans in, surprising Andersson with a soft, brief kiss. He pulls back, eyes steady and confident, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"You've got this," he says, his voice low and reassuring.
Andersson, taken off guard, can't help but smile back. A brief moment of comfort before the storm ahead.
Andersson exhales, composing himself. He smiles. "Thanks."
With that, they step into the hallway, ready for whatever comes next with Karass.