Sizzle! Burn! Steam!

Sebastian was glad he had forgone his usual armour today; it was blistering hot, and the trees in Hawke’s garden had been recently trimmed, so they afforded little to no shadow at all. Sure, archery was not as demanding and taxing as sparring with daggers, but still, the glaring sun and the sweat pouring off him in steady rivulets made it difficult to concentrate.

Hawke, damn him, seemed totally unfazed. The man was infuriating like that, always well groomed, always cool and collected even in the heat of battle. Sebastian had marvelled at the easy skill with which the man could appear as if he had just come from a Hightown banquet, even when he had been trudging through the dust of the Wounded Coast, killing bandits.

They were both rogues, but that was where all similarities ended. Hawke was witty and sarcastic, a sneering atheist, irreverent and refusing to stick to norms and rules. Sebastian was a devout brother of the Chantry, stiff and overly formal most times, a lifetime of formal schooling on how a Prince should behave still apparent in his posture and mannerisms, although by his own admission he had behaved nothing like a prince before coming to the Chantry. Despite their differences, or even because of them, the two men had become best buddies, seemingly the moment they had met.  Sebastian had even helped him woo the pirate queen, even though before his vows of celibacy he had been...more interested in members of his own sex. Not that he had been choosy or anything. Those days, if it walked on two feet, it could be nailed by the youngest Vael.

“Getting hot, Sebby?” Hawke teased as the former Prince wiped the sweat off his brow and decided to chuck the heavy doeskin vest he had on over his linen tunic.

“I am actually doing something here, Garrett, rather than sitting on my arse and hoping the arrows will find their mark by an act of divine grace,” he grumbled. “I was supposed to be teaching you.”

Garrett snickered, seated on the bench under the shadow of the only tree lush enough to provide one, stretching his feet in front of him.

“I am learning, Sebby,” he smiled. “I am watching you. Learning heaps, here. Excellent form you have there, your Highness.”

“Sloth is a sin in the eyes of the Maker, Garrett,” Sebastian countered, half expecting the eye-roll the other man gave him. “Get up your fat arse and come here. We had agreed you would help me get better with my twin daggers and I would teach you which end of an arrow goes ‘ouch’.”

“My ass is not fat!” Hawke protested and shot to his feet with a disgruntled huff. He took up the spare bow Sebastian had brought with him and eyed it suspiciously, as if the dew wood would soon sprout teeth and bite him.

Sebastian smiled, even as he pulled the string back across his cheek and released his arrow. It embedded itself right into the bull’s-eye of the target, and Sebastian smiled, proud of himself, before he turned to Hawke with a teasing smile.

“Isabela is helping you burn the excess fat, I hear,” he smirked to his best friend.

Hawke shrugged, seemingly casually, but Sebastian didn’t miss the spark of heated interest that lit up the other rogue’s eyes once the sultry pirate had been mentioned. “She does her best, I guess...” Hawke muttered.

“Lust is also a sin in the eyes of the Maker, Garry.”

“Don’t call me Garry,” Hawke smacked Sebastian at the back of his head. “You know I hate it.”

“You call me Sebby,” Sebastian laughed and smacked him too. “I hardly see the difference.”

“You are too haughty for your own good, Your ex-Highness. I am just trying to bring you down a peg or two, so you can converse with us mere mortals...” Hawke replied, and then went on imitating the brogue and intonation of Sebastian’s voice with unnerving accuracy “Besides, arrogance is a sin in the eyes of the Maker”.

“Andraste help me...” Sebastian sighed. “Do I really sound that bad?”

“Let’s ask Anders, shall we?”

Sebastian blushed. He couldn’t help it. The mere mention of the mage’s name could fluster him too no end these days. And then he groaned. A few days ago, the blond mage had timidly approached him to ask him a favour, but Sebastian had misunderstood and had started giving Anders one of his sermons on the Maker and the proper place of magic; Anders, instead of starting one of his rants about the injustice of the treatment of mages in the hands of the Chantry had just blushed, stammered an apology and backed away as soon as he could. Sebastian had been left there, stunned, and feeling unexpectedly guilty. Hawke had riled him afterwards on how sanctimonious and dogmatic he had sounded and had made him feel worse.

When the following day Sebastian found out that all that Anders had wanted to ask of him was to secretly perform the wedding ceremony for two young apostates that had decided to turn themselves in to the circle, but had wanted to be married first, he had been inconsolable. Anders had avoided him ever since, a hurt and disappointed look on his face.

“I was a fool, no need to remind me,” he admitted with a sigh. “Anders won’t even speak to me anymore.”

Hawke threw his head back and laughed, while his friend went to retrieve his arrows, feeling irritated and flustered. Hawke had managed to discover Sebastian was attracted to the blond mage, and it had been one of the favourite ways he had of teasing him. Sebastian was determined to stick to his vows, trying to prove to Grand Cleric Elthina how serious he was about them; he wasn’t entirely ready to give up on the simple pleasure he could draw from just being around the talented healer, though.

He had tried to approach him, hoping they could overcome their differences and become at least friends, but every time he tried to bridge the gap between them, he started stuttering and blushing and ended up giving him sermons, that invariantly ended up in arguments and in Anders storming away, mumbling about over-pious priests and where they could stuff their prayer books.

Vows of chastity aside, Sebastian would have liked other things stuffed there.

 It was just then, while the ex-prince’s mind had ventured to decidedly sinful thoughts that Hawke decided to test his non-existent archery skills.

With a whoosh, he let an arrow fly. It veered wildly out of course and embedded itself ...right into Sebastian’s buttock.

"I guess that's the end that goes ouch!" Hawke said, rushing to his side, before Sebastian's fist slammed into his face, knocking him out flat.

Anders had just sat down to have lunch in his stuffy, boiling hot clinic, when he heard a voice outside. It sounded vaguely familiar, and he scrunched his face trying to place it, while putting his meagre lunch away. Then he heard a groan and a definitely familiar Starkhaven brogue calling his name and he jumped a foot in the air.

 Sebastian! Damn the man! Wasn’t it enough that he made his everyday hell with the attraction he made him feel, wasn’t it enough that every night was filled with wicked, lustful dreams of the tall archer; did he have to invade his day too?

He was still a bit angry with him, too, and more than frustrated. Sure their views were different, and that was an understatement if he had ever heard one, but Anders had made every effort he could to approach the man. Knowing full well how devoted the ex-prince was to his faith and his vows, he had decided to settle for nothing else than friendship, or at least affability between them; he had been rebuked at every turn.

He strode to the door, fully prepared to give the Prince a piece of his mind, threw the door open and ...Maker, was that blood? He slipped his arms around Sebastian’s torso to support him as the rogue started slipping to the ground, his face pale and clammy.

“Andraste’s dripping cunt, Sebastian! What happened?”

The prince smiled faintly, before opening his cerulean blue eyes. “That’s blaspheme, Anders...” he mumbled.

“And that’s a fucking arrow in your ass, Sebastian.” Anders had managed to drag the tall rogue to an examining table, and had now discovered the source of all the blood. “Worry about that. Andraste will survive.”

“I tried to pull it out, but...”

“...it hurts like a bitch.” Anders ran his hand over the blood-soaked buttock, inwardly cursing himself for enjoying the sensation of the firm flesh under his fingers while the man was suffering. He was jerked out of his lustful thoughts when Sebastian let out a ragged moan and quickly used a spell to alleviate some of the pain.

“Be thankful it wasn’t poisoned, Choir-Boy,” he muttered softly, “because putting my mouth there to suck the poison would have been out of the question.”

Sebastian chuckled, surprising Anders to no end.

“Why would my own arrows be poisoned?” he asked and then closed his eyes again, feeling lightheaded.

Anders’ hand stilled while it was examining the arrow. “Your own arrow?” he started laughing. “Oh, Maker, Sebastian, what is that, some new form of penance? Do you shoot arrows to your own ass for wicked thoughts, now?”

Sebastian turned over more completely on the table, offering a complete view of the said mouth-watering ass to the healer. Anders’ laugh died on his lips; he was suddenly overcome with the sudden desire to pet and squeeze the firm, boyish globes of flesh.

“I was teaching Hawke...” Sebastian mumbled. “He shot me by mistake. I think.”

Anders did another double take. “Eh...Sebastian...where exactly is Hawke now?”

“I punched him,” Sebastian slurred. And he blacked out.

“Oh, MAKER!”

Sebastian came around with the sensation of a cool breeze on his nether regions. He looked back over his shoulder to see Anders, carefully peeling away pieces of his leather breaches away from his wound, his honey-coloured eyes shining with concentration and...something else, something Sebastian could recognise. It was desire. The same desire that was now darkening his own eyes as the healer run a careful, and surprisingly tender hand over his naked flesh, making goose flesh appear.

He bit his lip to stop himself from moaning as Anders run a knife under his smallclothes, cutting them carefully away, and prayed fervently that the blood that was left in him wouldn’t rush south and show the healer how much he was enjoying his touch. Some small sound escaped him though and Anders paused his petting to raise startled eyes to him.

“Anders...” Sebastian left a throaty moan, “would you stop fondling me and remove the damned arrow?”

Anders’ lips quirked upwards in a naughty smile, and suddenly everything was set right among them, both men realising that the tension and animosity between them had all been due to attraction and desire, and that the feelings were mutual; it was a huge discovery as each of them thought the other man had despised him.

“The shaft must be pushed all the way in before is it pulled out,” Anders said, his voice hoarse, and Sebastian’s face flamed at the double meaning, his eyes darkening to a dark, stormy blue.

“Bastard,” he moaned. “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Anders helped him on his side, and pulled the rest of the Prince’s clothes away from his body, revealing his manhood, an impressive sight even flaccid and soaked in blood.

“More every minute,” he replied, his raging lust tempered by the knowledge of how much this was going to hurt. He was loathe to cause the man any more pain; instead he wanted to offer him pleasure, tender touches, soft kisses. For the first time, the idea that this might be more than lust pierced his brain and Anders nearly stumbled under this second revelation.

Unable to resist the impulse he leaned towards the handsome prince and kissed him. Sebastian tensed for just a second, before relaxing and responding, his mouth moulding to Anders’, his lips opening to allow him entry. The mage moaned low and deep in his throat when his tongue first slid along Sebastian’s. Maker, his taste was intoxicating, like the best wine he had ever tried, and he felt his head spinning. Sebastian’s hand shot up and tangled in his hair, cupping the back of his head, demanding a deeper contact with a little sigh and Anders was more than happy to comply. Their tongues tangled together, sliding against each other, their teeth and lips clashing in a devouring kiss.

Anders tried to pull back to breathe, but Sebastian didn’t let him, growling like a beast, jerking his head towards him again with a fistful of his blond hair, until Anders whimpered and cupped his face. Immediately the desperation of the kiss lessened into a kind, tender caress once again. They pulled apart, gazing into each other’s eyes, their breaths sawing in their chests and their eyes darkened, Anders’ to a fine whiskey brown, Sebastian’s to a stormy, midnight blue.

“Once I remove this arrow...” Anders started, “I’m yours...” Sebastian completed. “And you are mine.”

“What about your vows?” Anders’ eyebrows furrowed over his eyes. “I don’t...I don’t agree with many of your views... Maker, Sebastian, you being in the Chantry, with that mouth of yours is criminal, but...”

Sebastian pulled him in for another kiss and moaned into his mouth. “Screw my vows. I want you.”

A growl was all the answer he got.

The process of removing the arrow was gruesome, and Anders had to be very careful not to hurt the archer more; one miscalculation while he pushed the arrow through could mean the tip fracturing against a bone, or piercing a vital archery and causing massive bleeding. It was hard for him to concentrate after the kiss they had just exchanged, by the look of blind trust on Sebastian’s face as he gave him a block of wood to bite down on sobered him up in no time. He was determined not to cause any more pain than was necessary; he knew he would have to, still, his soft healer’s heart was already bleeding at the thought of it.

He needed the man to be conscious, otherwise he would have put him under with a sleeping spell. Even so, he cast a pain numbing spell first, before locking his eyes with Sebastian’s and giving him a nod. The ex-prince fisted a strap of leather with both hands and bit down on the block of wood, before nodding back. Despite the numbing spell, and the block of wood, the scream that echoed  the clinic when Anders pushed the arrow completely though made him cringe.  He shot a look to the Prince and noticed, to his relief, that he had blacked out again. He quickly sawed off the tip of the arrow, making sure no splinters were left, and pulled it back out. From there on it was a matter of seconds for him to close the wound.

He took a few moment to run his hand through the auburn curls at the back of the man’s head, to smooth back some tendrils of hair over his sweaty forehead and lay a tender kiss on his cheek, before fetching a basin of water to clean the blood off him. He couldn’t resist the urge to run his tongue over the newly healed little scar, and now that the danger to the archer’s life had passed he let himself enjoy the sight and the feel of his skin under his fingers. Feeling like a pervert, he ran the wet cloth over Sebastian genitals, washing the gore off him gently, and then down the crack of his ass, and his strong, toned thighs. Some blood had pooled in his bellybutton and he cleaned that too, his erection a fiery brand in his breaches at the sight of that light dusting of auburn curls that trailed down Sebastian’s torso, intersected that perfectly cute bellybutton and continued on to frame his heavy, virile cock.

That bellybutton, a perfect little indentation, set on the rippling abdominals of the royal archer, just begged to be licked and Anders could not resist the temptation anymore and lowered  him mouth to it, giving it a good flick with his tongue before he moved higher and laved one of the flat male disks of the rogue’s nipples. Even unconscious, Sebastian let out a moan and Anders smiled, before sinking his teeth gently in the puckered flesh and pulling on the tiny nubbin.

“Yesss...” Sebastian hissed, his eyes sliding open, and his hands both came up to frame Anders head and pull him to his chest even more firmly. He run his fingers through the mage’s hair, untying the leather band that kept the ponytail in place and arched up to him, silently begging him to lick and bite and nibble some more. Smiling against the archer’s flesh, Anders moved slowly upwards, taking the time to appreciate his wide shoulders, toned to perfection by years of archery practice, unhurriedly running his mouth, hands and tongue up the straining column of his neck, nibbling under his chin and leaving tiny bite marks, before he was pulled into a sizzling kiss.

Without realising it, Anders found himself pulled over the archer, his hips grinding against him, their mouth battling for dominance. Sebastian pushed frantically at the mage’s robes, blindly trying to undo the clasps and buckles and Anders chuckled at his impatience.

“Slowly, Sebby,” he whispered. “Slow down. We have all the time in the world.”

Sebastian growled. “Say it again,” he moaned, thrusting his hips upward, desperate for more contact.

“What? Sebby?” Anders asked. “You like that?”

“I love it...” Sebastian murmured against the mage’s throat, licking a path towards his ear. “Coming from you, I love it.”

 “Ahh! Damn, this is good...” Anders struggled to concentrate with the other man’s tongue licking his ear and wrecking havoc to his ability to form coherent speech, “who else calls you that?”

“Hawke,” Sebastian murmured before yanking on the mage’s robes once again. “Off,” he growled. “Now.”

Anders pulled away and stood on his feet to comply, and Sebastian leaned back on one elbow to watch, unashamed with his now raging hard-on. Anders nearly blushed at the way the rogue’s blue eyes ate up every inch of his skin as it was revealed, knowing full well that he could never compete with the toned perfection that was Sebastian. Still, the other man looked more than pleased at his appearance, if the appreciative way his eyes were trailing over him were any indication. Sebastian trailed a hand down that well muscled torso and fisted it around his cock, slowly pumping up and down as his attention riveted on the pale flesh the mage was revealing, finally biting down on his lip with a barely restrained expression of lust when he tossed his smallclothes away and his rod, thick and long, sprang free.

Anders extended a hand to the rogue and he took it without hesitation, although a slightly puzzled look crossed his face. Anders blushed, and looked around.

“My house is not much, but...not on the table where I examine people. Not on blood and gore,” his head fell. “I am sorry, Sebastian, you deserve better than this...this hovel.”

Sebastian smiled and used his help to pull himself to his feet. He immediately felt lightheaded and Anders stepped closer to support him. Their naked bodies made contact for the first time and both men sighed and moaned at the sensation.

“I am afraid you will have to take over,” Sebastian mumbled, luxuriating at the feel of Anders’ skin against his own, at the way their straining cocks rubbed against each other. “I feel...woozy.”

Anders smiled sweetly and quickly led the other man to the curtained off area at the back, where his modest bed awaited and helped him lie down. He followed him down, covering his body with his own, rubbing his erection against the archer’s, who just threw his head back and moaned in pleasure.

His confidence soaring at the soft sound, at the utter look of surrender in the normally dominant man’s eyes, he flipped the larger man on his stomach, smiling wickedly at the startled gasp that escaped him, and wasted no time in trailing his hands down his lover’s back, until they reached his slim hips and the pert globes of his ass. His separated the firm buttocks and buried his face against his flesh, his tongue finding the small puckered ring of muscles and pushing inside.

Sebastian’s back arched and his eyes rolled back as Anders’ tongue licked and teased, a fine tremble racking his frame. He started moaning and gasping, the feeling of that talented, lithe tongue pushing inside him, fucking him, more than he could take. His erection was trapped beneath him and he started rocking against the hard mattress, trying to offer himself some relief. Anders grasped his hips to hold him still, and used a hand to shove his thighs apart and slightly higher so his wicked tongue could trail lower, licking over his scrotum and suckling one of his balls into his mouth.

Sebastian nearly screamed, growling and panting as he felt his control slipping. Maker, it had been so long, so long, and now this wicked, talented mouth was tormenting him, making him keen and pant like a virgin lass having her clit licked for the first time.

Anders stopped, releasing his testicle with an audible suckling sound and returned to his hole, now pushing one, then two thick fingers inside, preparing him. Sebastian fisted his hands on the blanket covering the bed, and started praying that he wouldn’t blow his load and embarrass himself so soon. Bur when a third finger joined the first two, his hips started bucking and his moans filled the room, along with the most blasphemous curse words that had ever left his mouth. Anders chuckled before turning him to his side and swooping down to lick the thick drop of precum pearling on the tip of his cock.

“Maker. Don’t. Stop. More. More. Deep. Make me cum!” Sebastian panted and keened when the mage complied and sucked his cock deep into his throat. It only took a few seconds before Sebastian fisted his hands in his blond hair and pressed upwards, emptying himself into his eager mouth with a series of agonised, wrenching moans. Anders swallowed down every drop, lapping up eagerly to catch the last beads escaping him as his hips twitched and his body writhed in a powerful, mind-blowing orgasm.

As Sebastian closed his eyes and slumped back on the bed, trying to catch his breath, feeling lightheaded and nearly faint from the overpowering rush of pleasure, Anders slid back up his body and captured his lips in a soothing kiss. Sebastian tasted his own release on the mage’s tongue, salty and a bit bitter, and smiled sweetly, gratefully. Anders’ hand was pinching his nipple and his thigh was edged between his thighs, rubbing against his softened cock.

“Are you alright?” Anders asked, concerned that it might have all been a bit too much for Sebastian; the man had sustained a serious injury earlier, after all, and had lost a lot of blood. His own erection was burning like hot iron, but he would happily settle for what he had already been given if Sebastian wasn’t feeling up to it.    

Sebastian purred like a big cat and wrapped his hand around the mage’s cock, stroking up and down in that special way that only another man knew how to. He kissed Anders again and then, wordlessly, turned on his back and raised his ass in the air, giving Anders a sultry, lust-filled, come-hither look.

No more invitation was needed.

Anders settled on his knees, opening his legs wide to lower himself on the bed, and fingered Sebastian’s hole again, making the other man leave a breathless grunt. The slightly stretched hole was too inviting to resist; he just had to slip his tongue in there again, he just needed to feel the tight muscles clamping down on it.

It made Sebastian hard again so fast, his head started swimming and his vision blurred. Then he felt the wide head of Anders’ erection against his opening and drew a deep breath, trying to relax his muscles for the coming invasion. Maker knew, he much rather take than being taken, but he wasn’t in top form and he was determined to be with Anders any way he could. Still, when the head started penetrating him, he couldn’t resist tensing, and leaving a pained yelp. Anders immediately stopped and wrapped his hands around him, resting his head on his lower back.

“We don’t have to...” he started but Sebastian interrupted him.

“No. I want to. Maker, I want to. I want you to take me...” Sebastian said, his heart missing a beat at the incredible tenderness Anders was showing him. “I love you.” The words slipped out of his mouth like velvet, and by the way Anders’ hands tightened around him he knew the mage was surprised by his admission.

He felt tears wet his eyes as the blond healer turned him around, and spreading his thighs wide slipped inside him, using a spell to better lubricate and prepare him. There was pain, pinching discomfort, but the feeling was right, and he raised his hand to Anders’ face, cupping his cheek and pulling him in for a loving kiss. Anders’ eyes never left him as he seated his burning cock into his depths and then moaned  before whispering the words back to him.

They shared a heated kiss, all wet tongues and blistering passion, before the mage started moving inside the rogue and pleasure soon overrode all other emotions. Lust took over, and Anders slammed into him faster and harder, until their panting breaths and tortured moans were the only sounds in the room, accentuated by the sound of flesh slapping against flesh.  Sebastian wrapped his strong arms around the mage’s body, holding him tight, and they moved fluently, effortlessly together. Anders’ cock was rasping against that tender, perfect spot inside him, and he felt another climax move along every nerve in his body, tingling along his spine, tightening his balls. Anders moaned and then grunted as he build up speed before screaming his name and coming, jets of blistering hot seed shooting inside the ex-prince, filling him with liquid heat. He joined him with a low growl deep in his throat, and then his cock jerked and twitched, spaying his and Anders’ stomach with semen.

They kept rocking together for a few minutes before Anders gently pulled out and got up on wobbly legs to fetch a wet cloth to clean them both. He then lay down beside him, burying his head against Sebastian’s neck with a soft, contented sigh. One arms curled around him, the other under his head, Sebastian was nearly ready to succumb to sleep when the mage’s voice, soft and a bit uncertain spoke up.

“What happens now?”

Sebastian pulled the blond mage closer and let a purring sigh. “We rest. Then we do this some more. I meant what I said Anders.”

“But your vows...” Anders weakly protested. “You will have to leave the Chantry. Maker Sebastian, I meant what I said too. I don’t want you to pay for this.”

“My vows have already been broken. So we rest, stop thinking about it, and take every day as it comes...” Sebastian mumbled, relaxation making his brogue even deeper.

Anders just sighed and burrowed his head more firmly against his neck.

“Next time, though,” Sebastian added, “it is my turn. I will show you how you properly fuck a man, Anders. You are too soft.”

Anders chuckled and closed his eyes.

“I will hold you to that, Sebby.”

Hawke stumbled into Anders’ clinic, holding his head. As if the pinch he had gotten hadn’t been enough, he had banged his head against the stones of the garden’s patio, and now his head was throbbing like a wound. He had come to alone, and had immediately followed the trail of blood Sebastian had left, through the cellar and the secret exit to Darktown and to Anders’ clinic.

Worried about his friend, he didn’t stop to announce himself, although the hour was getting late and the lantern was not lit. He staggered inside, waiting until his blurred eyesight got accustomed to the dim light and made it to the back where Anders slept to ask for his help and learn about Sebastian.

He didn’t realise what he was seeing at first, but when he did he let out a surprised little gasp, that was enough to wake the two lovebirds that were cuddled together, naked, on Anders’ bed. As the two men shot awake and rushed to cover themselves, Hawke’s eyes darted form one to the other, taking in the love bites and scratches on their skins, their hooded eyes, the marks their stubble had left on each other.

He smiled at their embarrassment, some of his devilish humour coming out despite his pounding headache.

“Either I have a concussion, or you two have finally seen the light.” He dryly commented and then slumped to the floor.

“Both.” The two men simultaneously replied and then looked at each other and smiled.

The end.