Little Interludes

(I can't seem to stop myself. again -words- = thoughts.

Zevran thoughtfully eyed the Warden polishing his dagger. It had been many days since they’d had a chance to rest, and it had been decided that they would take the chance on the way to Denerim to see about Brother Genitivi.

Thomais had ordered them to stop, mostly because the sniping was getting on his nerves, Zevran assumed.

From the corner of his vision Zevran noticed Alistair watching him and gave a saucy wink, just to put the man off guard. He saw the ex templar sputter and turn away, back to the fire.

Zevran returned to his vigil and made up his mind. Rising from his perch, he strode purposefully over to Thomais and said, “My dear Warden, I need to speak with you. Away from prying ears.” He smirked.

Thomais blushed an attractive shade of red before standing and setting his weapons aside. He tucked his side braids behind his ears and said, “Lead the way.”

Zevran nearly purred, “Alright, this way.” He turned to his left and nearly dragged Thomais off into the bushes.

--

Alistair couldn’t believe the nerve of that Elven Assassin, and he nearly panicked when Zevran drug Thomais out into the woods. Shouldering on his shield and longsword he started after them.

“Wait!” Leliana called after him.

“What? Can’t you see what he’s up to? Thomais is in danger.” Alistair was most unhappy at the delay. He knew it was a mistake to trust that Antivan.

Leliana laughed, “Oh no, our Thomais is not in trouble of any kind. Can’t you see how they feel about each other?”

Alistair flushed, “It’s… It’s just a ruse. To lure everyone into feeling safe. I have to go after them.”

Leliana shrugged, “If you insist. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though.”

Alistair sighed in relief and then began crashing through the brush trying to find where the sneaky Antivan had taken his friend.

--

Zevran looked up from his position at Thomais’s waist and smirked, “Why, my dear Thomais it seems we always find ourselves in this position. Tell me, how do you manage it?” A glare and a shift in the hips he was holding was the only answer he got. “Say no more! I know what you need.” He laughed and then took the younger elf’s erection in his mouth. He chuckled around the length in his mouth when he heard the crashing, and fell to his task with gusto. He slithered his tongue around his young lover in unusual ways, hummed, and pulled back with as much suction as he could manage. -Ah, you taste magnificent my love…- he thought to himself.

--

Alistair heard the moans before long before he stumbled upon them. He had thought they were moans of pain. And terrified he’d sped up, trying to reach his friend before the Antivan killed him.

What he found however was something completely different. His friend, his brother, was tied to a tree while the Antivan was on his knees and was… Alistair’s eyes nearly bugged out of his skull and he stumbled away from the sight. The Antivan had his mouth wrapped to the root around… Alistair buried his face in his hands. -Why won’t the image go away!- He flailed in his own mind -Naked Wynne, naked Wynne!-

The noises however… hadn’t stopped. Breathy whimpers of, “Oh Maker Zev.” “Please, more.” And just plain whimpers assaulted his ears. He couldn’t leave though, couldn’t. They’d hear him. They’d see him. He was doomed until they finished.

--

Zevran knew Alistair had seen them, and finally pulled himself off of his knees and kissed Thomais. “We have an audience my dear.” He whispered very very quietly. “Let’s give him a show, yes?”

Thomais only nodded, but that was enough for Zevran. The Antivan undid the ropes holding his Warden to the tree, only to be bent at the waist and pressed against the tree himself a second later, with the Warden growling in his ear.

“Well now, this is unusual. Not that I’m complaining however.” Zevran grinned and wiggled his hips a bit, “What are you waiting for?”

Thomais just growled again and coated his fingers with saliva before using them to stretch the Antivan.

Zevran was rather surprised. Thomais was never this forward, never this aggressive, and it seemed like he was trying to recall some of the techniques Zevran used on him before. Three fingers, and then he crooked them.

White slashed through Zevran’s vision and he groaned. “Thomais, hurry.” He said a little louder than he normally would have, but the audience demanded it.

--

Alistair heard the growling, heard Zevran, and just could not resist a look… just to make sure they, Thomais, was alright. He sat up straighter and peered back over his shoulder, only to yank himself back down as quickly as possible.

Thomais was surely not being taken advantage of. Thomais thrusting in and out of the assassin with a regularity that means they’ve done that before.

Zevran clutching at the tree, a sheen of sweat covering them both.

-I am not getting aroused by this. Wynne naked. I like women. I do.- He started chanting in his head. -Pretty curves, soft breasts… oh Maker.- He let out a groan of his own when a voice niggled at him in the back of his head, ‘How would you know? You’re still a virgin. Maybe you’re like Zevran.’

Alistair’s face flamed and he tore off back to the campsite. He didn’t rightfully care at this point if they saw him or heard him or anything else. He just wanted to be back to the safety of his tent and away from sights he could not unsee.

When he reached the camp, he dove into his tent and refused to come out, with the laughter of his companions ringing in his ears. Oghren’s especially.

--

Zevran grinned at the noise the ex-templar was making in an effort to get away, and then groaned when Thomais grabbed his hair. “That’s delightful, my dear Warden, but you can stop with the over acting now, he’s gone…”

Thomais seemed to pay no heed. However, if Zevran had anything to say about it, he would see this side of Thomais more often.

The younger elf’s fingers were digging into his hip, and he made that higher pitched keening noise that signaled to Zevran the pale one was close.

Zevran loosed one arm from the tree and, since he was so wound up, within seconds of touching himself his own orgasm rolled through him, spattering the tree in front of him. He felt his muscles clench around Thomais and then the younger elf made one more cry, and slumped against him, utterly spent.

When they made it back to camp, slightly worse for wear, and Zevran still sporting a huge grin on his face, the camp let out another round of laughter.

“What?” he asked “Is there something on my face?”

The only response he got was more sniggers, so he pretended to count the faces, “Ah!” here was his moment of triumph, he’d never let Alistair live this down. “Where is our wayward Chantry boy hm? Got too tired of spying on our glorious leader’s boring discussions with me?” Thomais punched him in the shoulder with a muttered, “Behave.” Before sitting at the fire and helping himself to some lunch.

Zevran flashed his trademark smirk before heading over to Alistair’s tent, “Oh Alistair. Why won’t you come out for some lunch? Or is the poor not so innocent chantry boy embarrassed?”

Alistair surged from the tent to more laughter and retreated just as quickly, “Not hungry.” Came the plaintive grumble.

Zevran smirked, “Suit yourself. I hope your foodless afternoon will be… pleasurable.” Quiet, and then… There! A muffled curse from the tent and Zevran laughed again, before rejoining the group around the fire.