[He covered the hand on his chest with his own, almost hesitantly, not wanting to step farther than Fenris was willing to go, keenly aware that sometimes, someone, likely pushed him too far.
And there was the mention of pain. He was unsure if he could actually hurt him with a mere touch, so he resolved to be cautious until he was given words otherwise. He reached out, almost reverent, and gently brushed an errant strand of hair out of Fenris's face.]
[The sad truth was, there was always pain. Every waking second. But he would push past it, when he could. If he didn't...well, his life would be exponentially more lonely than it already is. HIs smile softens at the touch. He's not used to it. Isabela and Vanadi both had been desperate, hungry tumbles. This felt...different, and he was afraid to think on too long why it was so. No. It was easier not to think at all. ]
I am not certain you are capable of such a thing.
[He doesn't allow himself the hesitation, the chance to assess the swirling pool of emotion in his chest. Instead, he leans up, almost on his tip toes to press a kiss against Dorian's lips. ]
[The truth of it was that Dorian was fighting against a gnawing loneliness- he had not felt someone else's touch since he left Tevinter- the last man had been Rilienus. Dorian could almost still taste him, the memory of the first man he loved haunting him like a ghost.
It would have been simple enough to charm his way into someone's bed, to get a night off the streets in exchange for letting someone use his body for a few hours. But in the end, it boiled down to that he had too much pride.
And so he had been alone.
He makes a sound when Fenris kisses him, he can smell the lyrium etched into his skin, and that mixes with the taste of alcohol on his lips into something almost intoxicating. Dorian puts a hand at the back of Fenris's head, parting his lips a bit as he pressed against him, kissing him with only half of the passion he felt, and only a quarter of what he could manage if he tried.
Fenris wasn't delicate, no, but nor was he a toy to be used up and cast aside.]
[Fenris certainly isn't delicate, and like a true warrior, he treats everything as a battle, even sex. But this is different, Dorian's restraint is something new. It's certainly nothing he would expect from a Tevinter mage, no. There he truly was used up and cast aside.
He's not entirely sure how to deal with this. To deal with being treated with such respect. He deepens the kiss, pressing closer, his hands moving up to tangle in Dorian's hair. He will play this by ear, as best as he can. ]
[Dorian knows that Fenris has likely never known anything but cruelness from Tevinter mages. He's not a delicate posession, not a piece of prized glasswork to be kept safe.
But Dorian was never a rough, cruel man. Even among other Altus, they were often surprised at how attentive he was, how delicate he could be. Dorian had his own odd quirks in bed, but he was far from one to be cruel to someone. If anything, he was the opposite, and when his lovers left a mark it was a keen reminder of where lips had been, and bruises were almost keepsakes.
Part of him enjoyed it, part of him told himself that people hurt him because they cared for him.
He pulls back just a moment, to catch his breath, and then kisses him again, stepping from the door and pulling Fenris with him toward the bed. He knows that- sex was safer than any deeper emotions. He wants love, desperately, but this is what he knows, this is what is safe.]
Fenris has never allowed himself to even consider the possibility of love for himself. He is too broken, too fragmented for anyone to love. Besides, the only love he ever knew was a lie, to keep him complacent. He will not be fooled into it again so easily.
He stumbles back onto the bed, pulling Dorian with him; his kiss becoming more heady, more hungry. He welcomes the wave of lust washing over him, dulling out the rest of his problems, if only for a while. ]
[He keeps to his feet until they reach the bed, and then he manages a scoff, hoping that Fenris has enough fight in him to keep up the initiative he's showing. It's not that Dorian is a lazy lover, nothing like that, he just has preferences. He can always take the lead, and had to, in the past- other boys in his Circle that weren't anything noteworthy that wanted him to do all the work. Dorian prefered the push and pull, almost like a dance.
He untangled his hands from Fenris, pulling back when they reached the bed, and gave him a shove back onto the bed.
This was easy, it was what he knew. This, here, two men, meant nothing.
And with that simple gesture, he held himself back from looming over him, and knelt in from of him, between his legs, chuckling softly and setting to undoing his pants as deftly as he could.]
[For that, at least, Dorian will have no fear. Fenris has sex the same way he fights, fierce and without retreat. Some would say it is just his warrior nature coming through, but those people would be wrong. After so many years of being forced into submission, he wouldn't allow anyone to control him again. Not ever.
He uses the moment apart to catch his breath, heart thudding in his chest. His fingers curl up into Dorian's hair, neither harsh nor gentle, urging him on. If the mage wondered where those tattoos went, he was soon about to learn. ]
[Dorian bit his own lip, making a small, pleased sound when Fenris reached for him, and he got his pants open, slipping a hand inside and pulling him free, letting his fingers run along his length for just a moment more than he should have. He looked up at him, a smirk on his lips that was what would have passed for an honest smile in Tevinter.
He could have said something, but really, any words would have been lacking. He looked away from him and tugged his pants down further, and then settled into place, taking him in one hand and leaning closer to run his tongue and lips across him, managing a sound that was half a chuckle, half something else.]
[Fenris' fingers tighten in Dorian's hair, a low groan coming from his lips. His hips arch a little, responding to Dorian's touch. This is new ground for him, but he accepts it, simply allowing himself to live in the moment, for a change. ]
[The response is enough to encourage him to take him in his mouth, working his tongue and lips over his length and sucking, resting a hand against hims stomach and feeling the taught mucles under his fingers.
Fenris was an impressive man, he could tell that much already, in a small way that he would admire any beautiful man he could charm into his bed.]
[Along with the ever present lyrium (cooler, than the rets of his skin) and the taught muscles of a warrior, there are scars, faint ones. He's spent his whole life fighting, and his body is certainly proof of that.
He almost growls, like the wolf he was named after, torn between the desire to turn this into yet another battle, and actually letting himself enjoy this sort of treatment. ]
[Fenris seems a bit tense- the hands in his hair are demanding, and Dorian is certain he's not bad at this. No, this must be new, unfamiliar to him, and he pulls back, looking up at him, a slightly raised eyebrow accompanything a bit of a smirk.]
Are you alright? I can stop, if you wish.
[Some people just didn't care for this sort of thing.]
[Fenris huffs out a laugh, when he speaks, his already deep voice his hoarse and heady with desire. ]
Don't you dare.
[The quest for his own comfort is somewhat disarming. Dorian really is something else. And that, in of itself, made him dangerous in an entirely different way. ]
[His reply brought an honest smirk to his lips, and Dorian chuckled, a bit lower than his normal nearly derisive chuckle. He leaned closer to him again, running his tonuge across his lips and looking up at him, murmuring.]
Very well, then.
[He ran his tongue around the tip of his length, and then took as much of him into his mouth as he could, his fingers restless against Fenris's toned stomach. Somewhere, distantly, he knew that Fenris smelled distinctly of lyrium, something dangerous and enticing all the same.]
[Fenris gasps out a harsh breath, fingers curling again in Dorian's hair. Faintly, reacting to his arousal, the lyrium begins to glow. His hips rise again, teetering on the edge of the abyss. ]
[It's an odd feeling, something that nearly makes his hair stand on end. Dorian can sense the lyrium, and it feels almost like the Fade as it stirs against his fingers when he weaves magic.
His eyes were closed, but he glances up, watching and pausing for a moment as he saw the glow of the brand against Fenris's skin.
For a moment, he hesitates, because he realizes that Fenris is, again, someone who could likely leave him defenseless and kill him without a thought.
But in some odd way, he trusted him.
He slipped that hand around under him, enough to grab at his backside, and he kept going where he had paused, working his tongue and lips along and around him as much as he could.]
[Fenris gasps fingers pawing at Dorian but certainly never hurting him, indeed, how easy it would be to do so. But he doesn't. His hips jerk in rhythm, before stopping shuddering as he cries out his release. He clings to Dorian like a man drowning gasping for air as he comes back down to earth. ]
[Dorian only grimmaced slightly as he swallowed down the cum, and then wiped at his mouth, a chuckle low in his throat as he rose to his feet and then slipped onto the bed, bracing himself against the bed on either side of Fenris and smirking as he ran his tongue along the lyrium brand marks on his chest.
He shuddered softly, tasting is as much as sensing it below the skin, the smell of it mixing with the head of Fenris's sticky skin, and he smirked softly at him.]
I did tell you I knew a thing or two.
[Ah, the things you learn in all-boy dormatories in Tevinter.]
I hope you're not entirely exhausted. I would expect you'd still have a bit of fight in you.
[Fenris takes a few moments to catch his breath, chest heaving, his skin tingling in the path of Dorian's tongue. When he can breathe enough to speak again, he offers a smirk of his own. ]
That you did. And I assure you, I still have plenty of fight left in me.
[He slid further up the bed, with an almost practiced effortlessness that he put into everything, like this, too, was a performance. Hands moving to brace himself on either side of Fenris's head, he relaxed a bit and let himself press against him, pressing a kiss to his lips.
Propriety would say that he didn't kiss him, not after what just happened, but somehow he didn't think Fenris would entirely mind too much.]
I'd like to see it, then. Show me your worst, Fenris, take from me what you want.
[Fenris doesn't mind the kiss, not at all. He's never been one for propriety, after all. He returns it, before chuckling low. ]
If you insist.
[He catches Dorian's leg with his own, pulling him down and flipping them over. It's easy to forget, with his lithe frame, but Fenris is ridiculously strong, and he has no problem with using that, from time to time. He straddles Dorian's hips, leaning in to kiss and nip at the other man's jaw and throat, his fingers moving to rid him of that damn robe. ]
[Dorian makes a surprised sound, and then a low chuckle starts in his chest as Fenris kisses him, and he relaxes back into the bed. This was easy, it was familiar, it meant nothing.
It never meant anything.
Dorian helped move out of the robe where he could, his skin unmarred and almost delicate, almost marked by vanity, in a way that his skin was supple and soft. Undernearth was muscle that was more than just breeding and reading books, Dorian was a terribly vain man, but he was also practical, in a way. He didn't have the musculature of a warror, but for a mage, it was clear he knew more than just how to conjure fire.
He brought his hands to Fenris, holding him and letting his fingers explore over his upper back, smiling to himself and he gently rocked his hips against him.]
[It's so much easier to pretend it means nothing, to play the part, than admit anything playing on his mind. Fenris can't allow himself to feel that, to think that. Those treacherous thoughts need to be kept away, that tell him anything other than this is just a tumble. Nothing more.
His fingers follow the traces of Dorian's musculature appreciatively. It's rare to see, and it certainly suits the man very well. He drops his kisses and nips do Dorian's chest, following the skin down, pushing away robes as he does so. They dip below his navel, before he nips and licks at Dorian's inner thighs, for now purposefully leaving his cock alone. ]
[He makes a sound, half a moan and half a whine, but he enjoys this, letting someone explore him, and Fenris is certainly already proving himself attentive.
Dorian almost regrets that this will be over after tonight. It always is, isn't it? After one night, you part ways, and you certainly don't get attached.
He smirked, though, at the feeling of Fenris's mouth, his teeth. He bit his own lip softly, almost squirming at being teased.]
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And there was the mention of pain. He was unsure if he could actually hurt him with a mere touch, so he resolved to be cautious until he was given words otherwise. He reached out, almost reverent, and gently brushed an errant strand of hair out of Fenris's face.]
I make an effort not to disappoint.
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I am not certain you are capable of such a thing.
[He doesn't allow himself the hesitation, the chance to assess the swirling pool of emotion in his chest. Instead, he leans up, almost on his tip toes to press a kiss against Dorian's lips. ]
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It would have been simple enough to charm his way into someone's bed, to get a night off the streets in exchange for letting someone use his body for a few hours. But in the end, it boiled down to that he had too much pride.
And so he had been alone.
He makes a sound when Fenris kisses him, he can smell the lyrium etched into his skin, and that mixes with the taste of alcohol on his lips into something almost intoxicating. Dorian puts a hand at the back of Fenris's head, parting his lips a bit as he pressed against him, kissing him with only half of the passion he felt, and only a quarter of what he could manage if he tried.
Fenris wasn't delicate, no, but nor was he a toy to be used up and cast aside.]
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He's not entirely sure how to deal with this. To deal with being treated with such respect. He deepens the kiss, pressing closer, his hands moving up to tangle in Dorian's hair. He will play this by ear, as best as he can. ]
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But Dorian was never a rough, cruel man. Even among other Altus, they were often surprised at how attentive he was, how delicate he could be. Dorian had his own odd quirks in bed, but he was far from one to be cruel to someone. If anything, he was the opposite, and when his lovers left a mark it was a keen reminder of where lips had been, and bruises were almost keepsakes.
Part of him enjoyed it, part of him told himself that people hurt him because they cared for him.
He pulls back just a moment, to catch his breath, and then kisses him again, stepping from the door and pulling Fenris with him toward the bed. He knows that- sex was safer than any deeper emotions. He wants love, desperately, but this is what he knows, this is what is safe.]
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Fenris has never allowed himself to even consider the possibility of love for himself. He is too broken, too fragmented for anyone to love. Besides, the only love he ever knew was a lie, to keep him complacent. He will not be fooled into it again so easily.
He stumbles back onto the bed, pulling Dorian with him; his kiss becoming more heady, more hungry. He welcomes the wave of lust washing over him, dulling out the rest of his problems, if only for a while. ]
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He untangled his hands from Fenris, pulling back when they reached the bed, and gave him a shove back onto the bed.
This was easy, it was what he knew. This, here, two men, meant nothing.
And with that simple gesture, he held himself back from looming over him, and knelt in from of him, between his legs, chuckling softly and setting to undoing his pants as deftly as he could.]
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He uses the moment apart to catch his breath, heart thudding in his chest. His fingers curl up into Dorian's hair, neither harsh nor gentle, urging him on. If the mage wondered where those tattoos went, he was soon about to learn. ]
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He could have said something, but really, any words would have been lacking. He looked away from him and tugged his pants down further, and then settled into place, taking him in one hand and leaning closer to run his tongue and lips across him, managing a sound that was half a chuckle, half something else.]
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Fenris was an impressive man, he could tell that much already, in a small way that he would admire any beautiful man he could charm into his bed.]
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He almost growls, like the wolf he was named after, torn between the desire to turn this into yet another battle, and actually letting himself enjoy this sort of treatment. ]
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Are you alright? I can stop, if you wish.
[Some people just didn't care for this sort of thing.]
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Don't you dare.
[The quest for his own comfort is somewhat disarming. Dorian really is something else. And that, in of itself, made him dangerous in an entirely different way. ]
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Very well, then.
[He ran his tongue around the tip of his length, and then took as much of him into his mouth as he could, his fingers restless against Fenris's toned stomach. Somewhere, distantly, he knew that Fenris smelled distinctly of lyrium, something dangerous and enticing all the same.]
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His eyes were closed, but he glances up, watching and pausing for a moment as he saw the glow of the brand against Fenris's skin.
For a moment, he hesitates, because he realizes that Fenris is, again, someone who could likely leave him defenseless and kill him without a thought.
But in some odd way, he trusted him.
He slipped that hand around under him, enough to grab at his backside, and he kept going where he had paused, working his tongue and lips along and around him as much as he could.]
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He shuddered softly, tasting is as much as sensing it below the skin, the smell of it mixing with the head of Fenris's sticky skin, and he smirked softly at him.]
I did tell you I knew a thing or two.
[Ah, the things you learn in all-boy dormatories in Tevinter.]
I hope you're not entirely exhausted. I would expect you'd still have a bit of fight in you.
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That you did. And I assure you, I still have plenty of fight left in me.
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[He slid further up the bed, with an almost practiced effortlessness that he put into everything, like this, too, was a performance. Hands moving to brace himself on either side of Fenris's head, he relaxed a bit and let himself press against him, pressing a kiss to his lips.
Propriety would say that he didn't kiss him, not after what just happened, but somehow he didn't think Fenris would entirely mind too much.]
I'd like to see it, then. Show me your worst, Fenris, take from me what you want.
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If you insist.
[He catches Dorian's leg with his own, pulling him down and flipping them over. It's easy to forget, with his lithe frame, but Fenris is ridiculously strong, and he has no problem with using that, from time to time. He straddles Dorian's hips, leaning in to kiss and nip at the other man's jaw and throat, his fingers moving to rid him of that damn robe. ]
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It never meant anything.
Dorian helped move out of the robe where he could, his skin unmarred and almost delicate, almost marked by vanity, in a way that his skin was supple and soft. Undernearth was muscle that was more than just breeding and reading books, Dorian was a terribly vain man, but he was also practical, in a way. He didn't have the musculature of a warror, but for a mage, it was clear he knew more than just how to conjure fire.
He brought his hands to Fenris, holding him and letting his fingers explore over his upper back, smiling to himself and he gently rocked his hips against him.]
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His fingers follow the traces of Dorian's musculature appreciatively. It's rare to see, and it certainly suits the man very well. He drops his kisses and nips do Dorian's chest, following the skin down, pushing away robes as he does so. They dip below his navel, before he nips and licks at Dorian's inner thighs, for now purposefully leaving his cock alone. ]
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Dorian almost regrets that this will be over after tonight. It always is, isn't it? After one night, you part ways, and you certainly don't get attached.
He smirked, though, at the feeling of Fenris's mouth, his teeth. He bit his own lip softly, almost squirming at being teased.]
That is nearly cruel, Fenris.
[His voice is warm, though, but almost strained.]
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