In that peculiar sort of way that didn't ever seem like luck at the time but had pulled his fat from the fire more than once before. With his tunic caught on his staff, Fenris had checked his swing--there was no desire to actually cleave the Ferelden in half. Sure, Rowen had ducked aside and not Needed the handicap but then he'd popped right back up sweaty and shirtless. Baring all of that skin to the afternoon sun and Fenris, Maker help him, had hesitated.
The traitorous part of his body that knew Exactly what it wanted to do with the man opposite him heard that bellow and went 'yes, please'. Before he could so much as find something clever to quip he was slammed back against the brick wall. Rather unhelpfully, his smalls only got tighter for that. Fenris is left hissing for the loss and the discomfort both. Staring up at Hawke with a hungry gaze.
"W...what kind of move was that?" The elf's voice was already deep. Now? It was throaty. Grit and warmed honey drizzled over a treat to be snapped up.
Hawke shrugged, still panting softly, eyes still bright. "Dunno. Just made it up." Which was true; he'd never in his life studied actual battle tactics - he and Carver had learned by flailing away at each other with sticks back on the Lothering farm when they'd been just bratty little kids. As Hawke and Bethany grew in their magic, the three Hawke scions learned to mix sorcery and steel together, proving to be quite formidable for their Templar neighbors residing at the local Chantry.
But perhaps Fenris had been on to something when he'd suggested more than a drop of barbarian blood ran strong in Hawke's veins; he'd always had the uncanny knack of getting out of a brawl without it devolving into fists, but if it did, he was typically the first to take a swing. Instinct, perhaps. Or, more of that luck that cheerfully toddled after the Ferelden mage, happy in his footsteps.
Either way, Hawke still kept Fenris pinned between his large frame and the unyielding garden wall, though the longer they remained thus, the thicker the tension became. The elf's voice curled over the human's ears like treacle, sweet, thick, and altogether delicious, making an involuntary shiver course down Hawke's spine. He couldn't have stopped his eyes from falling to Fenris's parted and so delectably-kissable lips if his life depended on it; he licked his own mouth, tasting sweat, sunlight, and...something else, the elf's breath, perhaps.
The staff's pressure eased as Hawke relented a fraction, the shaft slowly lowering between their bodies and Hawke's knuckles inadvertently drug down Fenris's chest, the unintentional touch making the mage inhale a shaky breath and stifle a telling shiver. For two eternal heartbeats, intent burned blue and bright in Hawke's wide gaze, but then he forced himself away, taking a slow, agonizing step back and lowering his staff altogether.
Offered a lopsided, slightly sheepish, altogether longing smile.
That's all. Rowen stared down at him with a hunger in him that Fenris matched in kind. This wild, reckless man took the elf's breath away even when he wasn't slamming Fenris into walls. Pinning him down with his bulkier frame. It was electric, that pull between them. Hawke would toss the staff away and then--
He didn't. Rowen Hawke pulled away as though he'd been wounded. Fenris blinked. The moment between them was broken. He didn't have to look down to know he was still achingly aroused for the sparring they'd just finished, but it looked like Hawke was just going to...what? Leave him like this?
"Are you joking?" Rowen was only doing what Fenris had asked of him. It clearly wasn't easy for Hawke to get ahold of himself enough to let Fenris go. But in the moment? The elf's blood boiled with frustration. The scent of ozone filled the air for just a half second before Fenris was gone--already pushing Hawke's staff away with one hand. The other was reaching up to grab Rowen by the back of the neck as he had no shirt collar to yank as he hauled the Ferelden mage down and into a fierce kiss.
Hawke's sheepish expression morphed into puzzlement at Fenris's response, and he opened his mouth to speak, but before the first word left his tongue, he suddenly found himself mouth to mouth with his beloved elf, abruptly swallowing the surprised squawk of being so abruptly snared and hauled downward. But that surprise didn't last long; sheer instinct had him enfolding the elf's lean body in both arms, molding hard frames together as if it'd been but hours since they'd last parted, and Hawke fell so very willingly into Fenris's kiss, his heart leaping like a wild salmon before it then began to race like a Marcher stallion, thudding sharply against his ribs.
Shaded light flooded his closed eyes, but Hawke didn't need to see, not with Fenris in his arms, Fenris's lips glued to his, and Fenris's tongue invading his mouth as if it belonged nowhere else. Unable to stop the soft, eager little moans that made their way out of his throat, Hawke gave just as good as he got, licking his way into the elf's open mouth and all but drowning in the remembered flavor of those beautiful lips.
A few unthinking, staggered steps put Hawke's back against the white oak tree that towered over the courtyard, but he didn't even feel the rough bark scrape skin. He merely gathered Fenris even closer, deftly pulling the elf astride one muscled thigh, groaning all over again when he felt the very prominent evidence of his beloved's arousal. He'd been determined to keep his own under wraps, but a pointed thrust of hips revealed he was just as needy, just as desperate as Fenris.
Even if Hawke wanted to complain, his squawk was met with a deep rumble almost nearing on a growl coming from Fenris' throat. He was waiting still somehow for the rejection. For Hawke to pull away and condemn him for his actions. But it never came. Rowen parted his lips for Fenris and suckled at his tongue as though it were something else he wanted in his mouth before devouring Fenris' mouth in kind. Stealing the very air from his lungs.
Electric lust crackled through the elf that had nothing to do with the Fade he had just stepped through. It had been so long since he'd been enveloped in Rowen's arms. So long since he'd been held so protectively and taken apart. Until he scarcely knew his own name. Until all there was was them. It had terrified him and so he'd ran. But Rowen hadn't given up on him, it seemed. Not when he was being plucked up as easily as he'd pick up the Ferelden in turn and settled against a firm thigh as thick around as both his own legs.
"Hhhhhaa--!" The rock of Rowen's hips sent Fenris' blood simmering in his veins. He craned his head upward to bite at the shell of Rowen's ear. Aching to hear something more primal from Rowen than those little moans muffled by his own mouth. "Want you--" Fenris breathed into that ear as he drug one hand down Rowen's chest possessively.
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Date: 2025-10-18 06:36 pm (UTC)In that peculiar sort of way that didn't ever seem like luck at the time but had pulled his fat from the fire more than once before. With his tunic caught on his staff, Fenris had checked his swing--there was no desire to actually cleave the Ferelden in half. Sure, Rowen had ducked aside and not Needed the handicap but then he'd popped right back up sweaty and shirtless. Baring all of that skin to the afternoon sun and Fenris, Maker help him, had hesitated.
The traitorous part of his body that knew Exactly what it wanted to do with the man opposite him heard that bellow and went 'yes, please'. Before he could so much as find something clever to quip he was slammed back against the brick wall. Rather unhelpfully, his smalls only got tighter for that. Fenris is left hissing for the loss and the discomfort both. Staring up at Hawke with a hungry gaze.
"W...what kind of move was that?" The elf's voice was already deep. Now? It was throaty. Grit and warmed honey drizzled over a treat to be snapped up.
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Date: 2025-10-21 11:06 pm (UTC)But perhaps Fenris had been on to something when he'd suggested more than a drop of barbarian blood ran strong in Hawke's veins; he'd always had the uncanny knack of getting out of a brawl without it devolving into fists, but if it did, he was typically the first to take a swing. Instinct, perhaps. Or, more of that luck that cheerfully toddled after the Ferelden mage, happy in his footsteps.
Either way, Hawke still kept Fenris pinned between his large frame and the unyielding garden wall, though the longer they remained thus, the thicker the tension became. The elf's voice curled over the human's ears like treacle, sweet, thick, and altogether delicious, making an involuntary shiver course down Hawke's spine. He couldn't have stopped his eyes from falling to Fenris's parted and so delectably-kissable lips if his life depended on it; he licked his own mouth, tasting sweat, sunlight, and...something else, the elf's breath, perhaps.
The staff's pressure eased as Hawke relented a fraction, the shaft slowly lowering between their bodies and Hawke's knuckles inadvertently drug down Fenris's chest, the unintentional touch making the mage inhale a shaky breath and stifle a telling shiver. For two eternal heartbeats, intent burned blue and bright in Hawke's wide gaze, but then he forced himself away, taking a slow, agonizing step back and lowering his staff altogether.
Offered a lopsided, slightly sheepish, altogether longing smile.
"...eh...sorry, Fen."
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Date: 2025-10-25 07:16 pm (UTC)That's all. Rowen stared down at him with a hunger in him that Fenris matched in kind. This wild, reckless man took the elf's breath away even when he wasn't slamming Fenris into walls. Pinning him down with his bulkier frame. It was electric, that pull between them. Hawke would toss the staff away and then--
He didn't. Rowen Hawke pulled away as though he'd been wounded. Fenris blinked. The moment between them was broken. He didn't have to look down to know he was still achingly aroused for the sparring they'd just finished, but it looked like Hawke was just going to...what? Leave him like this?
"Are you joking?" Rowen was only doing what Fenris had asked of him. It clearly wasn't easy for Hawke to get ahold of himself enough to let Fenris go. But in the moment? The elf's blood boiled with frustration. The scent of ozone filled the air for just a half second before Fenris was gone--already pushing Hawke's staff away with one hand. The other was reaching up to grab Rowen by the back of the neck as he had no shirt collar to yank as he hauled the Ferelden mage down and into a fierce kiss.
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Date: 2025-10-30 11:41 pm (UTC)Shaded light flooded his closed eyes, but Hawke didn't need to see, not with Fenris in his arms, Fenris's lips glued to his, and Fenris's tongue invading his mouth as if it belonged nowhere else. Unable to stop the soft, eager little moans that made their way out of his throat, Hawke gave just as good as he got, licking his way into the elf's open mouth and all but drowning in the remembered flavor of those beautiful lips.
A few unthinking, staggered steps put Hawke's back against the white oak tree that towered over the courtyard, but he didn't even feel the rough bark scrape skin. He merely gathered Fenris even closer, deftly pulling the elf astride one muscled thigh, groaning all over again when he felt the very prominent evidence of his beloved's arousal. He'd been determined to keep his own under wraps, but a pointed thrust of hips revealed he was just as needy, just as desperate as Fenris.
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Date: 2025-11-03 11:09 pm (UTC)Electric lust crackled through the elf that had nothing to do with the Fade he had just stepped through. It had been so long since he'd been enveloped in Rowen's arms. So long since he'd been held so protectively and taken apart. Until he scarcely knew his own name. Until all there was was them. It had terrified him and so he'd ran. But Rowen hadn't given up on him, it seemed. Not when he was being plucked up as easily as he'd pick up the Ferelden in turn and settled against a firm thigh as thick around as both his own legs.
"Hhhhhaa--!" The rock of Rowen's hips sent Fenris' blood simmering in his veins. He craned his head upward to bite at the shell of Rowen's ear. Aching to hear something more primal from Rowen than those little moans muffled by his own mouth. "Want you--" Fenris breathed into that ear as he drug one hand down Rowen's chest possessively.