If he didn't know it was due to happiness, he'd almost feel bad for overwhelming Hawke like this. There is no pride in managing the feat of leaving Adalwolfe Hawke speechless, not for this, not when the guilt that did remain was for lost time not saying what clearly should have been said sooner.
He'd waited and hesitated because of the thought that Hawke should have an easier life, a normal life without strife and heartbreak...but they were mages. Apostates. Apostates don't see happy endings. Mages don't get lives. Maybe in the future, but not in their time. The fact they could even entertain this, the luxury of saying no for so long when everything was uncertain, was not one he should have taken advantage of. He was so busy claiming he didn't deserve this that he made it true and put off Hawke's happiness as well.
He brought a hand up to close Wolfe's fingers around the band and he pressed in for a slow kiss in favor of the words lost between them.
Fingers close around the ring and Hawke holds it so tightly he can feel the shape of it in his palm as he kisses Anders. It's slow and affectionate, made up of the things that he can't find the words for and he finds he's still a bit shaky. When they pull apart, he feels a warm drop against his hand and immediately brings the one not desperately curled around the ring up to wipe his face.
He doesn't apologize, can't because of both the lump in his throat and the welling of pure love for this hesitant, careful, yet so utterly passionate man that is somehow still here even when all logic says that they shouldn't have found each other again. Mages don't get happy endings. Rebels don't get happy endings.
But maybe they do get happy continuance.
A hard swallow and Hawke uncurls the fingers around the ring, taking it to slide into its rightful place on the ring finger of his left hand. He's already decided that's where it will stay permanently. He may as well have it grafted on.
"I love you." He still sounds throaty and hoarse but still so full of affection it's almost fit to choke. "We'll find you one to match. I don't want to be the only one wearing it. This is for us. Together."
He watches Hawke's face, his reactions, that small slip of a tear and look in his face when he slides the ring on like it's the most precious thing in the world to him, he watches all of it and tries to hold it in his memory. If ever he needed to see that Hawke loved him, it was there in his face in this moment.
His own emotions gathered close, warm and gentle and almost too much, but the focus on Hawke made it bearable and kept that tightening in his chest from choking him. He shifted so he was sitting in a way where he could pull Hawke to his chest and hold him there. "Together." He echoed back and kissed Wolfe's cheek. There was sure to be someone in this city who could make something similar, at least. "I'm glad you like your present, my love." He pressed another kiss to Hawke's face, then let that gentle smile that hadn't fallen tick up into something more playful. "Now then...I believe I still have a present to unwrap, do I not?"
He'd dead forgotten the state he's in, so when Anders says that, Hawke looks at him blankly for a moment before realization dawns and he has the strangest urge to cover himself entirely. It's gone in less than a moment, banished by the sudden and overpowering desire to cover his love in all manner of adoration. Not just to have sex or be intimate, but to make love.
The blanket across his lap is moved aside, the big red bow a little less full than it once was, but still intact. It can wait, though. He'd much rather take Anders' lips against his and pour every ounce of affection and love he has for this darling, passionate mage he'd fallen for on sight and had gleefully never been able to get up. He is going to prove to Anders tonight, without a shadow of a doubt, that there is no one whose love has changed him as profoundly as the healer's.
When oxygen becomes an imperative is when Hawke finally pulls back, leaving one hand against the back of Anders' neck and pressing his forehead to Anders' in the way that he does sometimes when he needs grounding. "You do, and I am very much looking forward to it."
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He'd waited and hesitated because of the thought that Hawke should have an easier life, a normal life without strife and heartbreak...but they were mages. Apostates. Apostates don't see happy endings. Mages don't get lives. Maybe in the future, but not in their time. The fact they could even entertain this, the luxury of saying no for so long when everything was uncertain, was not one he should have taken advantage of. He was so busy claiming he didn't deserve this that he made it true and put off Hawke's happiness as well.
He brought a hand up to close Wolfe's fingers around the band and he pressed in for a slow kiss in favor of the words lost between them.
no subject
He doesn't apologize, can't because of both the lump in his throat and the welling of pure love for this hesitant, careful, yet so utterly passionate man that is somehow still here even when all logic says that they shouldn't have found each other again. Mages don't get happy endings. Rebels don't get happy endings.
But maybe they do get happy continuance.
A hard swallow and Hawke uncurls the fingers around the ring, taking it to slide into its rightful place on the ring finger of his left hand. He's already decided that's where it will stay permanently. He may as well have it grafted on.
"I love you." He still sounds throaty and hoarse but still so full of affection it's almost fit to choke. "We'll find you one to match. I don't want to be the only one wearing it. This is for us. Together."
no subject
His own emotions gathered close, warm and gentle and almost too much, but the focus on Hawke made it bearable and kept that tightening in his chest from choking him. He shifted so he was sitting in a way where he could pull Hawke to his chest and hold him there. "Together." He echoed back and kissed Wolfe's cheek. There was sure to be someone in this city who could make something similar, at least. "I'm glad you like your present, my love." He pressed another kiss to Hawke's face, then let that gentle smile that hadn't fallen tick up into something more playful. "Now then...I believe I still have a present to unwrap, do I not?"
no subject
The blanket across his lap is moved aside, the big red bow a little less full than it once was, but still intact. It can wait, though. He'd much rather take Anders' lips against his and pour every ounce of affection and love he has for this darling, passionate mage he'd fallen for on sight and had gleefully never been able to get up. He is going to prove to Anders tonight, without a shadow of a doubt, that there is no one whose love has changed him as profoundly as the healer's.
When oxygen becomes an imperative is when Hawke finally pulls back, leaving one hand against the back of Anders' neck and pressing his forehead to Anders' in the way that he does sometimes when he needs grounding. "You do, and I am very much looking forward to it."