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Anders moved through the corridors on silent feet. He had lost his staff long ago, and now had to rely on his hands to direct his magic. Fucking Mage Hunters, they were the bane of every apostate in Thedas. The group had been formed a few years ago, and consisted of mercenaries that had been hired by the Chantry to hunt mages down where the templars had failed. There were only two requirements in order to become a Mage Hunter—you had to hate mages, and you had to be prepared to do anything to catch your quarry. The Mage Hunters were a soulless group, made up of zealots and the cruel. Anders had never had a run in with one before, but the Chantry hadn’t wanted him as badly as they did now.
He had gone too far, teaching younger apostate healers what they would need to know in order to save lives. His school had been found, and Ander had only just barely been able to escape with his life. Some of his students hadn’t been so lucky. Now he had a Hunter on his trail. Anders had been chased into this abandoned keep, and he hoped to lose the blighted man in the crumbling halls.
He had actually encountered the man a few times, but had as of yet, seen him. There was something about him that was off, that was certain. He had a magic of his own that Anders had never seen before. Frankly, it didn’t matter what he looked like, as long as Anders was able to evade him. Their last encounter had involved Anders throwing ice spells at the man. The mage had had just enough time to see a bright flash of blue before he turned and ran deeper into the keep. That’s when Anders had lost his staff. It had fallen from his sweaty hands as he had fled from the devastation he had caused.
Anders’ eyes darted around the hall he was in. There were several doors, but he didn’t know where any of them led to. Behind him he could hear the padding of bare feet on stone come closer. Shit, fucking choose, Anders. His heart hammered in his chest, and he selected the last door in a row of three on the right. His trembling hand carefully pulled on the latch, and he opened the door just wide enough for him to slip inside and close it behind him.
The room was swamped in darkness, and Anders blinked as his eyes adjusted. There wasn’t much, and at first he thought he’d chosen poorly. But his eyes landed on a massive bed in the center of a room that was surprisingly in good shape. He swiftly crossed the plush rug, and dropped to his hands and knees. It took a bit of maneuvering, but he was able to squeeze his body in the space between the bedframe and the floor. Maker, was this what the Mage Hunters had reduced him to--hiding under the bed with the dust and neglect? He covered his nose and mouth with his hands and breathed shallowly. The last thing he needed was for that asshole to come into the bedchamber, and hear him sneeze.
How pathetic would that be?
Under the heavy wooden door, Anders could see a shadow moving. He squeezed his eyes shut as fear assailed him, only to pop them open again when the squeal of hinges resounded in the air.
Shit, he thought franticly. Go away. Nothing to see here, you bastard. Maker, help me...
But since when did the Maker listen to the prayers of mages?
His magic had proved next to useless where the Mage Hunter was concerned. Andraste’s tits, what in the Void was he? Anders had been forced to run like a coward. He hadn’t felt this way since he had first come into the Circle.
The door shut behind the Hunter, but the light remained. He had a blighted lantern. There was a dull thud as the lantern was set down on a bedside table. Anders’ eyes tracked the movement of bare feet as the Hunter walked slowly around the room. Once he completed a circuit, he stopped by the door, and Anders heard an ominous click as it was locked.
“I know you’re here,” the Hunter said. “I can still see your boot prints in the rug. You can’t hide from me, mage.”
The cadence of his voice washed over Anders and he suppressed a shiver of delight. He hadn’t heard the Hunter speak before, but now that he had… The man had no right so sound so fucking sinful. No right at all.
While Anders had been lost in thought, he made the mistake of taking his eyes off the Hunter’s feet. By the time he realized it, it was too late. Hands incased in steel, with sharp points at the tips, reached under the bed and grasped both of his ankles. He could feel the strength and pressure through the leather of his boots, and he gave an undignified yelp as he was yanked out from under the bed. His robes slid up his body as he was jerked across the floor, exposing his smalls, much to his embarrassment.
Anders nails scraped along the exposed wooden floor under the bed for purchase. The Hunter laughed—laughed—as if Anders’ pathetic struggles amused him. And it did, Anders knew it did. It enraged him. He kicked out with his feet, wrenching his legs away from the Hunter, and flipped over on his back. He had lifted his hands, his fingers charging up a spell, when he froze.
He was an elf, and his eyes… Maker, his eyes…
They were the most beautiful, and deep green that Anders had ever seen. They stood out under black brows, and the shock of white hair. His olive skin completed the startling effect, complementing the rich green.
Anders sucked in a breath, and his hesitation cost him. The elf ran those intense eyes up and down Anders’ body, and his lips twitched into a mocking smile. “You caused me a lot of trouble, Anders.” He stepped over the mage, and his feet planted on either side of his hips. “You think your spells can hurt me? I think I’ve already proven that you’re helpless.”
He was quick, too quick for Anders to stop him. The elf was on Anders, pressing his hands to the floor, and settling his full weight on top of the mage. He leaned in close and whispered into Anders’ ear. “Where’s your magic now? You can’t stop me, can you? You’re powerless.” He nipped at the mage’s earlobe, and tugged lightly on it with his teeth. “I could do whatever I wanted with you, and there’s nothing you could do to stop me.”
“You’re sick,” Anders whispered. He rocked his hips, trying to buck the elf off of him. “You work for the templars. Kill me and have done with it.”
When the elf pressed down to still Anders’ movements, the mage gasped. “I’m the sick one?” the Hunter mused. “You’re the one with the erection. Maybe you like being in my power…”
The truth hit Anders like an anvil strike in a dwarven forge. The elf was all around him. His scent was in his nostrils--leather and steel. The warmth of his body was on his skin, seeping through his robes and almost scorching his flesh. And through it all, the intense green that glittered dangerously down at him, as if he could see right through Anders and his every little secret desire.
He knew the moment he had revealed as much on his face, when the elf gave him another one of those mocking smiles. “My name is Fenris. I was sent to capture you, or kill you. You gave me quite a chase, and now that I have you…” Fenris ran his tongue over his lips, as if he was about to savor a feast. “I find I’m reluctant to do so. At least, not until I make you pay for running.”
If it was at all possible, Anders’ cock grew harder at Fenris’ words. “Pay?” Was that interest in his voice? Fuck… Fenris was right. But as Fenris leaned down and nipped at Anders’ throat, he found any objections slip away from his mind, overshadowed by the haze of lust.
“Asshole…” Anders muttered.
Fenris chuckled under his breath. “Your asshole, I think. I want my pound of flesh for the trouble you put me through in order to catch you. I mean to take it out on every inch of your body. When I’m done with you, you’ll beg me for more.”
“Never,” Anders hissed, even as he felt pre-cum leak from his cock, and wet the inside of his smalls.
Fenris scraped a claw down Anders’ jaw, pulling slightly at the stubble that shadowed his face. “Never is a word I don’t want to hear from you again. I think I need to teach you some manners. Maybe next time you won’t be so quick to run from me, and come along like a good boy.”
“I’m not a dog,” Anders snapped, even as every nerve in his body was standing at attention.
“You’re whatever I want you to be, apostate,” Fenris replied, his voice silken. “You’re my bitch in heat, howling for any cock to fill you. You’ll bend over and spread that lovely ass I saw running from me.” One of his hands curled around Anders’ throat. He squeezed, just enough to get his point across. The claw tips on the elf’s fingers dug into his vulnerable skin, adding a sharp pain. “Maybe I’ll find a nice collar for you, just to prove to you who’s master here, and who’s the bitch.”
Anders’ heart pounded wildly in his chest, and he was sure the elf could feel it. Maker, he wanted that. He wanted to lose himself into everything the Hunter promised. But it would be the end of him if he did. He couldn’t—
The mage hissed in a breath through his teeth when Fenris’ fingers went to the buckles of his armor. Very slowly and methodically, the elf loosened his armor piece by piece, and drew them off, setting them carefully on the floor. When he was wearing nothing but his leggings and tunic, Anders’ eyes tracked up and down the elf’s arms. The tattoos that were only hinted at on his throat and chin twined around his arms in artful swirls. Anders had the overpowering urge to trace each one with his tongue.
No!
He lifted his hand only to have them slammed back down to the floor again. He heard the joints in his wrists pop as the elf squeezed. “I don’t think so,” Fenris chided. “Not when you’re being such a very bad boy.” He rocked his hips, pressing down on Anders’ cock. The mage arched his back and groaned despite himself. With his arms pinned to the floor, and Fenris’ weight on his hips, he could do nothing but take it.
“I hate you…” Anders muttered.
“No you don’t.” As if to emphasize his point, his hips rolled in a small circle, pressing on all of the right places along the mage’s cock.
Anders cried out before he could bite it back. What he wouldn’t give for his magic to harm the elf. What he wouldn’t give for the ability to get away. It wasn’t just that what was being done to him was degrading--it was more that Anders actually liked it. It was tapping into a never before used portion of his psyche, one that he pretended didn’t exist. He wanted this. He wanted Fenris, this Mage Hunter, to take him, to do all the things he promised in that wonderful voice of his and more.
**
Fenris felt it the moment the mage’s muscles went slack with defeat. He wasn’t fooled, though. Anders would live up to his reputation and fight back. The trick was for Fenris to take the chance he was given, and show the mage that he couldn’t just flaunt Chantry law without any consequences.
Bending down, he ran the tip of his tongue over the seam of Anders’ lips. He tasted elfroot and lyrium on his tongue. “Open…” he muttered against Anders’ mouth. Anders hesitated, but did as he was told. Fenris’ tongue plunged inside, as he took Anders’ lips in a deep kiss. He held nothing back, overpowering the mage with his kiss the way he wanted to overpower him with his body. Anders gave a choked gasp as Fenris’ tongue slid in deeper. In his periphery, he could see the mage’s hands clenching and unclenching where they lay on either side of his head.
Fenris broke the kiss, but not before biting down on Anders’ bottom lip, and pulling back. He released and watched as the skin snapped back into place. Anders’ bottom lip was plump with blood and tinged pink, giving him the look of a man who had been thoroughly kissed.
He ran his fingers over Anders’ lips. “You have a wonderfully talented mouth. I wonder what other uses it has besides inciting other mages to rebellion.” He let go of Anders’ wrists. “Keep them on the floor, or you won’t like the consequences.”
Anders eyes were filled with a mixture of lust and rage. “What more could you do to me?”
“Try me…” Fenris taunted. “Try me and you’ll find out. No one knows where you are. I could spend days teaching you not to cross me again.”
With a glint in his eyes, Anders caught Fenris’ gaze. A mischievous smile crossed his lips, and he lifted his right hand from the floor. Fenris sucked in a breath, and for the first time that night, he broke character. “Anders? Are you—“
Anders laughed. “Sure? Yes, if I wasn’t I wouldn’t be doing this, now would I, love? I missed our games.”
“I just hope no one thinks I’m killing you, and comes running in.” Fenris lifted his own hand, and raised it high.
“With Zevran and Aedan living here for the past three years, I think they’d be used to hearing screaming by now.” Anders gave Fenris a crooked grin that immediately fell from his face. “Do it, I need it.”
Fenris’ eyes hardened as he dropped back into his persona. “You’ll regret that.” His hand came down, and his palm struck Anders across the cheek, snapping his head to the side.
Watery eyes rolled upwards, glancing back at Fenris. “Bastard. Is that all you’ve got? I grew up in the Circle, and experienced worse.”
Fenris grasped Anders by the chin and jerked his face back over. “I bet you never got hard from it, though. Did you? I bet you never wanted one of those templars to ram his cock into that tight ass of yours, the way you want me to.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Or did you? Maybe you wanted those templars to take you, to show you what a little whore you really are.”
Anders panted, “Never…”
Clucking his tongue, Fenris released Anders’ chin. “What did I say about that?” His hands went to the laces in the front of his leggings, and he deftly slipped them free. He wasn’t wearing any small clothes, and his erection peeked out from under the tight cloth.
Grabbing Anders by the hair, he yanked the mage’s head back with one hand, while the other braced on top of the bed next to them. He rose up on his knees, and leaned his body over the mage. His cock fell free from his leggings, the tip rubbing over Anders’ lips.
“Open,” Fenris demanded.
Anders shook his head as much as he could in Fenris’ punishing grip. “Fuck you.”
That only made Fenris smile, and he released Anders’ hair to grasp the base of his cock. He slapped it against Anders’ mouth, rubbing pre-cum along his skin until his lips glistened. “What a mouth you have on you. I need to show you that it has other, more pleasant uses than cursing me.” Without warning, he pinched Anders’ nose shut with his thumb and index finger.
He grinned down at Anders as the mage struggled to breathe without giving Fenris what he wanted. “Things would be so much easier if you just did as you were told. But if you insist on doing things the hard way, then who am I to argue?”
Anders’ lips parted, and he sucked in a lung full of air. Fenris gave him just the barest of moments before he took the opening, and shoved his cock into the mage’s mouth. Anders’ choked, and Fenris let go of his nose. Inch by inch, he slipped his cock further into Anders’ throat. He could feel the rippling of the mage’s tongue along his shaft, and the slight pain of teeth scraping along his skin.
Palms slapping down on the floor above Anders’ head to brace himself, Fenris’ hips slowly undulated, sliding his erection in and out of the mage’s mouth. His head dropped down between his shoulders so he could watch the way Anders’ lips clung lovingly to his shaft as he slowly thrust.
“Fuck, you’re so good at this.” Fenris said it almost every time, and he meant it. Anders knew just how to run his tongue over the sensitive glans just under the head of the elf’s cock, how to relax his throat just right so that Fenris could fuck his face at whatever pace the mage could take.
But tonight wasn’t about Fenris and his lust, it was about Anders.
Fenris pulled his cock free with a lewd pop, and climbed off of Anders. He shucked his leggings and his tunic until he stood nude next to the mage. Licking his lips, he cupped his smooth balls and ran his hand over his saliva slick shaft. “Get undressed.”
**
Something inside Anders clenched as he watched Fenris touch himself. Maker, did he know how hot he looked when he did that? Of course he did… He knew exactly what he was doing to Anders. His cheek that had gone numb when Fenris had slapped him, now stung. His throat was raw from when the elf’s cock had been brutally shoved down it. But, Maker, help him, he was as hard as he’d ever been.
And there was still more…
Anders rolled to his feet and stood in front of Fenris. He steeled himself for what was to come, his body vibrating with anticipation. “No.”
And just like that, Anders found himself on top of the bed, taken down by Fenris’ hands on his throat, and the elf’s deceptively lanky frame. His breath whooshed out of him when Fenris came down on top of him.
“I see you need more lessons in obedience, and self-control.” Fenris let go of Anders’ and grabbed him by the collar of his robes instead. With a growl, he ripped the mage’s robes down the middle. Anders gave a cry of dismay that was ignored. Both of them wrestled with each other as Fenris pushed Anders over to his side, and then on his stomach. Anders kicked and flailed, as he tried to get away.
But not too hard, what was the point of that?
With quick motions, Fenris use the remains of Anders’ robes to tie his hands and arms behind his back. Anders wiggled his fingers to make sure he would still have circulation, and to tell Fenris he was fine.
A few yanks, and Anders’ boots and socks were removed from his feet, and his smallclothes followed shortly after. The bed creaked when Fenris moved back on it, and Anders jumped when he felt hands on his bare ass.
“Mages who don’t know their place get what they deserve,” Fenris said, his voice silk over steel. His nails scratched into the taut muscles of Anders’ backside, and the mage shuddered. Fenris’ nails dug deeper and deeper into Anders’ ass in increments. Just when Anders got use to the sharp pain, it would grow more intense. Soon Anders was writhing on the bed, thrusting his trapped cock against the sheets.
Fenris didn’t just confine it to his backside. Soon the elf’s nails were clawing up his back, and along his spine, wherever he could reach around Anders’ bound arms. Anders could feel each sting of torn flesh, and he rutted harder into the mattress, his cries muffled in the sheets. He had never known how much he would crave the pain that Fenris gave him. Logically, Anders knew it was his body’s natural pain blockers that he really loved. It made him feel like he was floating. But emotionally, he knew it was more than that.
For the past three years, Fenris and Anders had gone further and further in their lovemaking than Anders had ever thought possible. Little was forbidden. He never knew if he had always been this way, or if it was just Fenris that brought it out in him, the way he said the mage brought it out in Fenris.
But when it came down to it, who cared?
Certainly not Anders.
The mage began to laugh into the sheet as the pain took on a mind of its own. He gasped when his head was yanked back painfully by his hair.
“Are you laughing?” Fenris asked, his voice a deadly whisper. “You aren’t supposed to be enjoying your punishment, mage. Maybe I need to do more.”
Please! Anders thought. But he couldn’t appear too eager. Anders was having a hard time staying in character. “Do your worst, Hunter.” He was glad that Fenris had let go of his hair, so that the elf couldn’t see the grin on his face. Maker, but Anders was bad at this. But he couldn’t help it, not when Fenris was—
Anders yelped as a hand came down on his ass with no warning. He had thought his skin was already numb from the myriad of scratches on his flesh, but he was horribly wrong. Fenris didn’t go lightly. There was no build up for Anders, other than the stinging of his scratches, nothing to prepare him for the rain of blows.
At first he tried to get away--it was too much. His mind was swimming in pain, and even his erection had flagged. But when Fenris moved from the bed to jerk Anders legs off the edge of the bed, that quickly changed. Fenris pried Anders’ thigh apart, and the mage felt him nuzzling the crack of his ass. Fenris pressed the flat of his tongue against Anders’ entrance, and licked a long line first up to one ass cheek, and then the other.
Anders’ eyes slid shut, and he moaned in pleasure. They snapped open when Fenris smacked both of Anders’ ass cheeks in quick secession, followed by the elf’s tongue probing at his asshole. They were such contradictory sensations, that anders’ body and mind didn’t know what to do. Fenris spun him higher and higher, until Anders didn’t know what he wanted more, the tongue in his ass, or the hands that delivered such delicious pain.
Eventually, Anders began screaming, his words a mindless babble that came tumbling out of his mouth. “Maker, no… stop… more—guh-- yes… “
**
Turning his head, Fenris nipped at Anders’ inner thigh. “You take your punishment so well, mage.” Fenris climbed back on the bed. He ran his fingers over the dark red lines, and the few welts his nails had made, tracing the pattern he had made on Anders’ back and ass. He hoped they would last long enough for Anders to look in a mirror and see them. Fenris had copied his brands onto Anders’ skin.
The thought crossed his mind, that maybe next time he could use a dagger, a sharp and clean one. Not enough to cause any real bleeding, but with a blade he could be more precise and only slice through the first few layers of skin.
But he dismissed the thought for later when he rubbed his index finger over Anders’ asshole. He partially draped himself over Anders back. He could feel the rapid beating of Anders’ heart through his ribcage, and the way the mage gasped for breath.
He whispered in Anders’ ear, rustling the mage’s hair with his breath. “Such a good boy. Did you know you spread your legs for me? Did you know that your asshole quivered when I touched it? It wants to be filled, doesn’t it? It wants a cock in it.”
Anders shuddered, and mumbled something into the sheets.
“What was that?” Fenris asked. He smiled against Anders’ hair.
The mage turned his head so that he could face Fenris. “Fuck me… Please…”
Sucking on his middle finger to thoroughly wet it, Fenris pressed it once more against Anders’ entrance. “Fuck me, please… What?” On the last word, he pushed it inside.
Anders cried out, his body shaking. “Maker… please… Fuck me, just fuck me.”
Ruthlessly, Fenris twisted his finger as far as he could, corkscrewing it inside the mage. Anders moaned, but he still wouldn’t give Fenris what he wanted. Of course he wouldn’t… Where would the fun be if he did?
**
Anders’ whole body wouldn’t stop shaking. Maker, he needed to come. He was close… so fucking close. But he perversely wanted to see what else Fenris would do. He knew what the elf wanted from him, and he kept his lips sealed. Anders had never held out this long before, but he wanted—no, needed—more.
Fenris left the bed, and Anders could hear him opening a drawer. The mattress dipped when he came back, the movement shaking the whole bed.
“Love you,” Anders muttered. He felt a light kiss on the back of his neck.
“Love you too.”
There was the pop of a cork, and Anders felt the slick wetness of elfroot extract dribble on his ass. It dripped down his crack to coat his asshole, and saturate his balls. Without being told to, Anders got on his knees, raising his ass into the air. “Please…” he said again.
Fenris pushed on Anders’ hip, nudging him over so he was more in the center of the large bed. With his hands tied behind his back, it was hard to maneuver, but when he was in place, Fenris move in behind him.
With his cheek pressed into the sheets, Anders knew the picture he made. His hands and arms were tied behind his back, his ass raised an on display, and his erection bobbed between his legs. Anders dipped his back, spreading his thighs and raising his ass higher.
“You want it, don’t you, Mage Hunter? For all your talk, you want this as much as I do. Give it to me, fuck me.” Anders’ voice came out guttural in his need.
He heard Fenris growl behind him, and felt the prodding of the elf’s cock against his ass. “Yes…” Anders hissed out. “Do it. Finish it.”
His asshole stretched as Fenris pushed the head of his cock against it. Compared to what he had endured earlier, the pain was nothing but a delicious after note. But when Fenris was barely inside, he pulled back out again.
Anders cried out in frustration. “Come on, you bastard. Too scared to fuck a mage?” Fenris said nothing, but Anders could feel the elf’s hands on his hips, steadying him as he entered him again. Once more, he thrust in only so far, before pulling back out completely.
It happened over and over again. It was just enough to tease Anders with what he wanted, but not enough to really do anything more than that. When Anders tried to thrust back to impale himself on Fenris’ elusive cock, the elf held onto his hips tightly, arresting his actions.
Anders thought he was going insane. His cock throbbed with the incessant need to come, and it was becoming painful. He began cursing Fenris in all the languages he knew. Fenris didn’t say a word, but Anders could just picture his self-satisfied smirk.
When Anders’ tirade had run its course, Fenris finally spoke. “Fuck me, please… What?” In one swift movement he thrust all the way in, burying himself to the hilt, and hitting that sweet spot deep inside the mage.
Anders’ head snapped up, and he cried out. “Fuck me, please, Master!”
Letting go of his hips, Fenris gripped Anders by the remnants of his robes that bound him. “Good boy.” He pulled out, and using Anders’ bindings like a horse’s reins, he thrust forward again, yanking Anders back at the same time.
All Anders could do was close his eyes and take it. If it wasn’t for Fenris’ grip on his bindings, Anders would have toppled over each time the elf thrust back into him. Fenris’ pelvis slapped into his abused ass, and each impact brought a jolt of pain with it.
It was perfect.
The bed creaked in protest under them, and Anders’ cries grew increasingly louder, drowning everything else out. It was rare that Anders could climax without being touched--this was going to be one of those times.
**
Fenris was so close. Anders did something to him, he always had. His cries of pleasure filled the room, and Fenris snapped his hips to their rhythm, urging the mage on.
It still wasn’t enough.
He could feel the way Anders’ body tensed in anticipation, his body shaking as it stood on the precipice of orgasm. Fenris slowed down, and then pulled free. Anders’ cry of dismay made a small smile appear on Fenris’ lips.
He wasn’t calm, not by a long shot, so his hands trembled as he rolled Anders over on his back. Gripping the startled mage by his legs, Fenris sat back on his haunches and yanked Anders towards him, settling his legs on his shoulders. Turning his head, Fenris bit down gently on his calf, sinking his teeth into the thick muscle.
Locking eyes with Anders, Fenris entered him once more. The mage arched his back, and moaned. He gave Anders a few shallow thrusts as he smoothed his hands over the mage’s cock. His fingers traced the scar marring Anders’ belly and moved higher. Anders’ head thrashed from side to side, and his body undulated as he worked himself on Fenris’ cock.
When Fenris plucked at Anders’ nipples, the mage sucked in a breath through his nose. Because his hands were behind his back, his spine was bowed, exposing the pale column of his throat. Fenris caressed up to Anders’ neck, and the mage looked at him through half lidded eyes.
“Do it…”
“Do what?” Fenris didn’t stop his slow thrusts as he rubbed his thumbs over Anders’ throat.
The words left Anders in a rush. “Please, Master. Please. Make me yours, Master. Give me that collar… Give it to me.”
Fenris wrapped both hands around Anders’ throat. His thumbs met in the center, while his palms pressed over the jumping pulse points on either side of Anders’ neck, and squeezed. He thrust harder in Anders’ clenching ass, as he watched the mage’s eyes flutter shut.
**
Spots danced behind Anders’ eyes as Fenris squeezed, choking him. Already mindless, the lack of blood to his brain made him lightheaded. The pleasure that roared through him was another beast entirely. Anders knew what they were doing was dangerous, but he trusted Fenris, the elf would never take him too far.
His balls drew up tight, and he felt his cock become almost impossibly hard. The muscles in his body locked tightly, and he squeezed the cock in his ass the way Fenris was squeezing his neck. Both men moaned, but Anders’ came out harsher.
Just when Anders thought he could take no more, his world exploded. His cock jumped, emptying his balls, and splattering cum over his abdomen. The hands that had been around his throat were abruptly lifted away, and Anders was dimly aware of Fenris grabbing his hips and pounding into him, chasing his own climax. Anders screamed, louder than he ever had before, his voice raw. His orgasm just kept coming. It wasn’t just his cock, it was like whole body had become some sort of pleasure organ, as every nerve ending fired.
Fenris fell over on top of him, and gave a few more shallow thrusts. He growled in Anders’ ear, as his cock twitched inside him. They lay like that for some time, until Fenris’ softening cock slipped free, and Anders stopped trembling.
Gently rolling Anders over to his side, Fenris swiftly untied him. Maker, that hurt. He hurt all over. The mage flopped onto his back, and winced. “You’re lucky I’m a healer.” He croaked. He winced again and touched his fingers to his throat. Healing magic slipped through his skin, taking away the pain and any chance of bruising. His hand dropped to his chest. He didn’t have the energy to do the rest right now.
Fenris gently kissed Anders on the lips. “I know I’m lucky. I’m lucky about a lot of things when it comes to you.”
Anders’ grinned. “Who am I to argue that? Why I—“
There was a pounding on the door, and they both froze, their eyes shooting towards it.
“Will you please shut up!” Carver shouted. “I have to hear it from Merrill and Christopher on one side of my room, and now I get to hear it from you guys on the other side. Some of us are trying to fucking sleep! I’d ask to switch rooms, but I think moving on the other side of Weisshaupt where Aedan and Zev are would be just as bad.”
Fenris narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, but Anders slapped a hand over it. “Sorry,” he called back. “We’re going to sleep now.” They heard Carver muttering to himself, and then the slam of a door as he went back to his room next to theirs.
Anders removed his hand and laughed. “Poor guy. I’d be pissed too.” He absently pointed towards the pillows on the other end of the bed. “Grab one for me, please. I can’t move, and I’m too tired to heal myself right now.”
Fenris did more than that. He slipped from the bed and went to the washbasin, wetting a cloth. He came back and wiped down Anders’ stomach, before tossing it back to the washbasin. He moved the pillows to the foot of the bed, and pulled the blanket over them as he settled next to Anders.
In the time it had taken him to clean up, Anders had already fallen to sleep. Fenris brushed the hair out of Anders’ eyes, and tucked the strands behind his ears. Eschewing the pillow, he rested his head on Anders’ chest, and curled his arm around his waist.
He fell asleep listening to the beat of Anders’ heart.