"Oh, Anders..." Adalwolfe whispers into his love's neck, feeling the blond tremble around him, panting and clenching as he reaches his peak and the feeling of knowing he made Anders spill over them both and the sensation of tight heat is more than enough to send him tumbling over himself, filling Anders with his spend and clutching tightly, dizzily, so he remains grounded despite the heady sensation. It feels a bit like vertigo, letting himself go so completely into his love that he can feel Anders expand as he twitches and pulses, drained dry. He shivers himself once he's spent, every sensation in stark relief to his nerves all standing at attention. Anders' hand on his side, the sweat that crawls slowly from his hair down his back from their exertion. The soft rabbit thumps of Anders' heart against his chest, his own beating in tandem as they gently slow.
"Anders..." He whispers again, full of love, full of promise that this is where they'll stay, tangled in one another and satisfied, always. Adalwolfe kisses Anders' face. His cheeks, his nose, his mouth. "You're so perfect, Anders. So good for me."
One hand slips through his hair, cupping the healer's cheek as Wolfe looks at him with such fondness that if it were a scene in a play it would be embarrassing in the stark and open portrayal of affection. But Wolfe doesn't care. He's never cared about that, only that Anders knows just how much he means to him. How much of everything in Hawke's world is tied up in him.
Anders' breath stutters and a small sound of pleasure escapes him as he feels Hawke's final push into him and his release, his breathing wonderfully ragged to try and keep up with the pace of his heart. But now they're both a mess and so perfectly satisfied in each other and nothing else existed but them and the sanctuary of Hawke's presence.
His name is whispered between them and the sheer emotion in that rich voice of his lover sends a tremble down Anders' spine. He can't move fast enough to meet those kisses, so he merely enjoys the feeling of them with his eyes closed in rapture, but then Hawke speaks again and the words bring a familiar twisting to his insides that he easily pushes away. He could hardly disagree more with that sentiment, but he had plenty of practice at pushing it away again. The only sign it was even there was in the way his expression shifted as his eyes met Hawke's.
There were near desperate amounts of adoration in Anders' eyes, mixed with love and happiness and that slight edge that said 'I don't know how you can think these things, but I'm blessed to hear them.' It was all he could do these days when Hawke made such deep proclamations of his devotion and all Anders could do was think of all the pain and trouble he'd brought to Wolfe's life. And yet they were both still here, years later and far too late to change a thing about it now, so all he could do was acknowledge Adalwolfe Hawke was far more than Anders could ever even dream of deserving and offer every ounce of reverence and devotion the healer had in him.
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apurrstate) wrote2016-05-03 09:35 pm
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"Anders..." He whispers again, full of love, full of promise that this is where they'll stay, tangled in one another and satisfied, always. Adalwolfe kisses Anders' face. His cheeks, his nose, his mouth. "You're so perfect, Anders. So good for me."
One hand slips through his hair, cupping the healer's cheek as Wolfe looks at him with such fondness that if it were a scene in a play it would be embarrassing in the stark and open portrayal of affection. But Wolfe doesn't care. He's never cared about that, only that Anders knows just how much he means to him. How much of everything in Hawke's world is tied up in him.
"I love you," again whispered, just for them.
no subject
His name is whispered between them and the sheer emotion in that rich voice of his lover sends a tremble down Anders' spine. He can't move fast enough to meet those kisses, so he merely enjoys the feeling of them with his eyes closed in rapture, but then Hawke speaks again and the words bring a familiar twisting to his insides that he easily pushes away. He could hardly disagree more with that sentiment, but he had plenty of practice at pushing it away again. The only sign it was even there was in the way his expression shifted as his eyes met Hawke's.
There were near desperate amounts of adoration in Anders' eyes, mixed with love and happiness and that slight edge that said 'I don't know how you can think these things, but I'm blessed to hear them.' It was all he could do these days when Hawke made such deep proclamations of his devotion and all Anders could do was think of all the pain and trouble he'd brought to Wolfe's life. And yet they were both still here, years later and far too late to change a thing about it now, so all he could do was acknowledge Adalwolfe Hawke was far more than Anders could ever even dream of deserving and offer every ounce of reverence and devotion the healer had in him.