Magic's Slave

Things managed to quiet down at Vigil after Alistair took Rylock and left for the Tower. Anders was very strict in his new duties, however. Determined to not let a day go by without reassuring Nate of his sincerity and honesty, he cuddled up to the man every night.

One of these nights, however, Nate seemed to be struggling with something, so he settled himself in his master’s lap and peered upwards through his bangs. “What’s wrong with you tonight? You seem so… on edge.” Then he grinned wickedly. “I could help with that tension, if you’d let me.”

Of that, Nate had no doubt. He leaned his head back, thumping it against the wall. “Anders," he sighed. “By the Maker, please don’t tempt me.”

“Why not?” He pouted and shimmied backwards a little to nuzzle Nate’s stomach. “You’d feel much better and so would I, I suspect. You’d not leave me wanting.”

Nate settled his hand on Anders’ head, stilling the others’ motions. “I’m sure I would,” he murmured, carding his fingers through Anders’ loose hair. “And you're right, I wouldn't be so cruel. But what I don’t understand is why you’re offering.”

Anders snorted and nuzzled a little more. “I’m offering for completely selfish reasons, of course. You’ve given me permission to do so. Am I not allowed to seek your attention anymore then?”

Nate sighed, but didn’t stop petting. “I didn’t say that, Anders. But- gah!”

Anders decided to stop the affectionate nuzzling and turned to even more affectionate nibbling. “Stop holding back. I thought we’d gotten over the misunderstandings.”

Nate tightened his grip long enough to make Anders stop. “I was trying to explain, and then you let your mouth loose on me," he grumbled, staring downwards. “Look, Anders, it’s just that I can never be too sure of your willingness, especially with the… collar… oh Maker’s breath!”

Anders had grown tired of listening to Nate ramble on about things that didn’t matter and took the situation into his own hands.

Literally.

Nate took in a deep breath. Anders was grinning at him impishly and had one hand cupping his balls and the other lightly gripping his erection, both actions performed through his breeches. It had been so long, too long, since he’d been touched and his hips shifted, almost unconsciously. He took in a deep trembling breath and then asked, “Are you sure?”

Anders laughed and answered with a gentle squeeze of his hands.

Nate took a strangled breath and loosened the fingers in Anders’ hair, gently petting the mage again. “If this is really what you want...”

Anders returned to his nuzzling, letting that answer the question. He unlaced the front of Nate's breeches and wrapped his fingers around the noble's heated length, earning him a groan and causing those fingers in his hair to clench again. “Nathaniel, how long has it been since you've had some kind of release?”

Nate flushed. “Er… Since I came home from the Free Marches, nearly half a year ago now…” he mumbled.

Anders let out a low whine and started peppering kisses all over Nate's hips. “You poor man. You definitely need this. Just relax.”

Nate started squirming away and little giggles escaped him. “Maker’s breath, Anders. Stop that! That tickles!”

Anders stopped with a mischievous look and dragged his tongue along Nate’s erection while his fingers danced over where he’d been bestowing kisses.

This was going too far. Nate's fingers twisted into Anders' hair, his other hand coming down to still those spidery touches. He could feel the mage pulling against his hold; feel the heat of his breath against his skin. “Anders,” he growled cautiously, “stop.”

Anders stared up at him and with a pout asked, “Why? You already told me I could…” A smirk. “Master.”

Maker’s breath, that word again! Nate felt his manhood twitch, and by the widening smirk on Anders’ face, the mage noticed it too.

“It's nice to know I please you.” Anders’ lips, a hair's breadth from Nate's skin, twisted into an even more wicked grin, leaving the last word unspoken, teasing him with it. He wrapped his lips around Nate's tip, easing down the rogue as best he could without breaking from the rogue's grip.

Nate’s eyes closed and he took in a deep, ragged breath. His hips shifted again and his grip loosened slightly, giving his silent permission for Anders to continue. But the mage pulled away and with a vaguely superior grin stated, “You know, on second thought, I don’t think I want to anymore.”

Nate’s eyes snapped open and he stared for a moment before tightening his fingers again and pulling Anders back to him. “You don’t just start something like this,” he rocked his hips upward into the mage’s face, “and then decide you ‘don’t want to.’ Finish what you started,” he growled.

Anders cheered silently at his manipulation and opened his mouth to accept Nate’s length. He slid his mouth all the way down, perversely proud at his lack of a gag reflex; the tip of his nose brushed the curly black hair at the Noble’s groin.

Nate’s toes curled into the bed as he felt the tip nudging the back of Anders’ throat. His mouth dropped open and he let out a low moan. “Oh Maker, Anders…” He fought the urge to roll his hips upwards again.

Anders grinned and pulled back, resting his hands on Nate’s hips. “Lose yourself, Nathaniel.” His hot breath puffed over the noble’s erection. “You need this.”

Nate stared down at the mage, eyes half lidded and arched his hips upward, fingers tightening almost painfully into the others’ hair. “Then stop lecturing,” he growled, “and get back to it.”

That damn smirk. “Yes Master.” And he descended on Nate once more, swallowing the other man to the hilt. Nate let out a strangled moan and his toes clenched up into the sheets again. His hips writhed, meeting Anders halfway, and he couldn’t stop staring into those deep brown eyes, which never stopped peering out from the fringe of blond hair.

Anders’ fingers skimmed over his hips again and Nate writhed even harder, trying to keep away from them, at the same time driving into that warm, wet mouth even faster. It had been so long, too long since anyone had touched him like this, and he lost it. Pulling the pillow over his face to muffle his yells, he shot his seed down Anders’ throat.

The mage swallowed everything eagerly, pulling away with a wet pop to nuzzle his cheek against Nate’s thigh. “I did well, then?” The little smile he wore meant he already knew the answer.

Nate pulled the pillow away from his face and took a ragged breath. “Come here,” he ordered.

Anders shimmied upwards and draped himself all over Nate. “Yes?”

Nate pulled him in for a deep probing kiss, before he pulled away and said, “You do know I’m going to repay you for that?”

Anders made a happy little noise and leaned forward to kiss the rogue again, when the fanfare sounded from the courtyard, announcing the return of King Alistair. He pulled back and groaned, burying his head in Nate’s chest. “Maybe if we ignore them, they won’t bother us?”

Nate chuckled and lazily petted Anders. “I doubt that.”

Not long after he spoke, there came a knock at the door. “Ser, the Commander is specifically requesting that the mage, Anders, be brought to the courtyard for a special healing project.” The unfamiliar voice at the door continued, puzzled. “He also told me to apologise for interrupting.”

Nate banged his head against the wall again. “Is nothing in this Keep secret?” He sighed. “Come on, Anders. Let’s go.”

Anders reluctantly climbed off of Nate, adjusting himself as he pouted mournfully. “Next time we’ll close the window.” He pointed to the offending piece of architecture. “That’s probably how the Commander heard you, Ser.”

Nate buried his face in a hand, even as he tucked himself away and slipped a shirt on. “Maker’s breath. Please don’t let me forget that again.” Then he strode out the door, ushering Anders in front of him.