Fenris tried not to count the days since that fated night. It was times like these, laying in his own bed in his borrowed mansion, that he found himself dwelling on the memory. Hawke had been so willing to give him everything, he thought he could handle that. Evidently, things hadn’t gone to plan. He rolled onto his back and stared up through the hole in the ceiling. The moonlight was peeking through the gap, illuminating parts of his bare chest and making the bed sheets glimmer. He could imagine Hawke saying something cheesy about the view.
Just thinking of Hawke made the butterflies in his stomach rouse from slumber. They tickled his insides with their wings, spread a warmth through his body that pooled in his cheeks. Hawke and his beautiful smile, his amber eyes like honey pots, and a light splattering of freckles across his cheeks. He would tell him a cheesy pun and laugh boisterously at his own joke, the stars twinkling in his eyes. Then, his whole expression would soften. Eyes lidded now, a soft smile tugging at his lips, a face that was reserved for him.
Now that made the heat pool elsewhere. Fenris shifted his legs on the sheets. All the heated kisses and fumbling of clothes that night had nothing on the arousal that flickered in Hawke’s gaze. The way he looked at him had him trembling. It wasn’t anything like Danarius, there was no feelings of possession there, just a thinly disguised lust melded with a blistering affection. Yet, he trusted his fingers to never scald him.
Hawke had gently pushed him on his bed, crowded his view with his strong body. He stripped them both and pressed feverish kisses on his chest before prying his thighs apart. Fenris licked his lips at the memory and found himself reaching down to palm between his legs.
The simple memory of Hawke’s mouth around his cock was almost overwhelming. He had sunk down on him with practiced ease, his skilled fingers skimming over his balls. Fenris had moaned and bucked his hips, daring to tangle his fingers in Hawke’s dark hair.
“You can pull,” Hawke had told him, once he had pulled off Fenris’s shaft with a wet pop.
Fenris could only nod as he resumed business.
In the present day, he shucked off his leggings. It was late and unlikely that anyone would come bother him at this time. Besides, he wasn’t sure he could stop now that he’d started anyway. He wrapped his hand around his cock and sighed at the bare touch. He closed his eyes and immersed himself in the memory.
He had begged Hawke to stop, unwilling to cum before they could get to the main act. Hawke assured him that they didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to, that he’d be happy to get him off like this, but Fenris had shook his head. There was nothing more that he wanted. He wanted to give himself to Hawke, to replace scabbing wounds with pleasant memories, to find trust in someone he knew wouldn’t hurt him. Plus, it was worth it just to hear Hawke’s breath hitch at the plea.
The mild jealousy concerning other lovers briefly washed over Fenris when Hawke reached into his nightstand and pulled out a bottle of oil. It had been open, some missing. He quickly forgot about that when Hawke’s fingers, slick and wet, rubbed down his perineum and found the pucker between his cheeks.
Fenris’s eyes flickered open. It was a bleak reminder that he was alone here, not in Hawke’s arms, but the heavy arousal lingering inside him was enough for him to recall that he had some oil too. He fumbled for it and coated his fingers. Was this a bad idea? No, he didn’t care, this was the best way to fully appreciate the memory. He reached between his legs and gasped when he pushed in a single finger, much like he had when Hawke did it to him.
Hawke’s fingers were much wider than his own though. His were a poor imitation of the stretch he’d felt when Hawke reached inside of him. Raw, intimate, but wonderful. He fingered him until he was writhing, until his legs were quaking. Three fingers deep and pulling him out from the inside, unravelling him like no one else had ever done before. He wanted this, he wanted this so bad.
He kept a steady pace on his cock as he worked his fingers in. Hawke was better at this, but this would have to do. He groaned as he pushed his fingers in as deep as he could at this angle. He toyed with the idea of taking a trip to that seedy little store near the Blooming Rose that sold all sorts of aids for this kind of adventure, just in case he ever wanted to do this again. He wondered if he could get one of a similar size to Hawke’s cock. It would have to be big, likely the biggest they owned, and thick. Anything smaller could not do him justice.
Was it shameful for him to think this way? Was he souring Hawke’s image by thinking of this? The doubt nibbled at the pleasure, but he tried to not let himself dwell on it. There were better things to focus on.
Like the way Hawke made him cry out when he finally pushed his cock inside, the way he’d gasped as the head finally fit into place past his rim. Hawke whispered sinful things in his ear, praised him, made him feel like the luckiest man in the world. He was, simply just for the reason that he was having sex with Garrett Hawke. He should have been counting his blessings, not walking out his door. What a fool he had been, but there was nothing he could do about it now.
Fenris let the buds of precum spill onto his stomach. He was close. His fingers rubbed up against that sweet, special little spot inside him. The one that it had been impossible for Hawke not to hit with every thrust inside him. He moved with such precision, carefulness, like in everything he did. Hawke held his hips, leaned in to press kisses against his lips. When he was doing that, it was like all was right in the world.
Hawke made sure that he came before he did. He wrapped his large hand around his cock, egged him on until he cried out his name. It was after he did, after he tightened around him, that Hawke finally followed suit with a breathless moan that sounded something like Fenris’s name.
However, when Fenris finally reached his peak now, he bit his lip. He didn’t want anyone else in Hightown to know what he was getting up to, to hear his shame. His eyes flew open and he stared up at the hole in the ceiling. He pulled his fingers out from within himself as the cum dried on his abdomen. It was hard to enjoy his post-orgasmic bliss when a sour feeling inside was spreading.
He missed Hawke dearly. It had been a good few days since he’d seen him. Things were a little awkward between them still but they tried their best to act like everything was normal. He saw the way Hawke’s eyes flickered down to the red favour wrapped around his wrist. He could almost taste the pang of melancholy that washed over him.
Fenris pushed himself up. It was probably best that he cleaned up before bed, lest he had to suffer the shame of scrubbing the evidence in the morning.
Maybe one day he could conquer the barrier between them.