Anders' hand skates along each plane and dip in the muscles of Wolfe's abdomen gently, but when that hand moves down to his neck, his hands come up to take it in both of his. One hand makes small soft movements, a slow and subtle massage of the muscles in Hawke's arm while the other holds the back of his lover's hand near to his face. His actions hold as much reverance as Wolfe's words do, his lips placing adoring kisses to each finger tip in turn along with the palm and the soft inside of Hawke's wrist.

There's a wriggle in the back of his mind, a negativity that always swells up under this level of appreciation and care from Hawke, it was uncomfortable and parroted Anders' anxieties and fears and questions on how Hawke saw anything pleasing in his skinny physique, but Anders had years now of practice at keeping it where it was. He didn't want that interference. He just wanted Hawke and everything he offered Anders. He pressed the hand he'd lavished attention to his left breast, putting his heart in Hawke's hand where it belonged.

"And I you, love. I've missed how your voice catches my breath and the sight of you stutters my heart. I've missed how a mere brush of your fingers thrills my body and soul. I've been incomplete without you and my life was duller for not remembering how much you mean to me."