elfhame | Feeling like P. Diddy

Feeling like P. Diddy

He's comfortable.

That's the first thought to cross his mind as he slowly wakes up. He's comfy, it's quiet and still, and there's someone sleeping next to him which is a luxury he'd not dared dream of until now. Anders burrows closer to Nate, smiling, and kisses his blunt chin, his pointy noise, and his broad forehead, one after the other. It's not that he wants to wake Nate. It's just that Anders needs some way to express how he's feeling right now, heart full of warmth and arms full of his lover.

And scalp full of tiny claws that are owned by a being slightly jealous of the attention Nate is getting, but Purrelden gets her fair share already. It's Nate's turn, and Anders has had worse from a cat.

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Nathaniel feels those lips and stirs, and smiles because he knows he's waking up next to Anders. In the haze before he's fully awake, he knows that if he goes back to sleep, he can do it again. So he snuggles closer to Anders, legs tangling, and begins to doze back off to the scent of his lover's golden hair.

This is entirely new... but he's not sure that it can ever get old. Anders' breath catches as their legs tangle together, at the added contact, and he tugs Nate a little closer while shifting to nuzzle his neck.

"Good morning," he murmurs, savoring the words. He kisses the hollow of the man's throat next before pressing his lips to Nate's pulsepoint and taking the moment to feel the way Nate's heart beats, strong and steady.

Entangled like this, it's impossible to hide when he's aroused. And it takes him a moment to remember he doesn't have to anymore, he can use it as a reason to entangle even further, and tip back his head to invite Anders' attentions to his throat.

I haven't shaved yet. It must be scratchy. Maybe I should stop him and kiss him instead. No. No more thoughts like that. Anders will stop if he's bothered. For once, it's lovely not to have to think, to be taken care of a little. Which isn't to say he's going to be idle.

The fingers of one hand slide into that golden hair, lightly scritching the scalp. The other hand glides over beautiful skin, over thigh and hip, before settling on Anders' side, thumb grazing over a nipple.

"Good morning."

He makes a pleased sound as Nate's erection is pressed against his stomach. So Nate is up, if not fully awake yet. The morning is looking very lovely indeed as he trails a line of kisses down Nate's throat to his collarbone.

Nate's hands getting involved have Anders smiling against the archer's skin and rubbing his own cock against a strong thigh.

"It's getting even better, by the looks of it." Touch is powerful. Anders almost always craves it, and now it's Nate doing the touching which makes him all the more pleased. He nips Nate's shoulder lightly before sucking on the spot, starting to get an idea of where he might want to take this.

Nathaniel's thigh slides against Anders' cock, giving him a little friction--not too much, since he'd like this to last. Keep it lazy. They can take their time now that the frantic, passioned rush is done. A hand moves up and down his lover's spine, coaxing gently. He took charge last night. It's fair to let Anders do so now.

"Better than waking up next to you?" he rumbles. "I'm willing to let you try."

Oh. He could certainly stand to hear those words again, especially rumbling through Nate's chest. Nate likes waking up with him. The smile on Anders' face gets a little silly as he pushes back upward a little to kiss Nate's mouth one more time.

"Then I think you should roll onto your back," he says against Nate's lips. It's nice to have time, something languid and relaxing, and have it with this man especially. He reaches up, brushing Nate's hair back and indulging in a moment where he can simply study his lover's face like this.

"Oh?" A kiss on that golden brow, another on the apple of his cheek. Ordinarily, he likes doing the lavishing. Maybe he simply doesn't trust that the other person actually wants to touch him or please him. But this is hard to argue with.

"As you please," he says with a flex of his shoulders. He holds Anders close and rolls with him, till he is on his back and Anders is on top, and releases the other man somewhat reluctantly, keeps his hands on his skin.

He could simply lay here and kiss for a long time. Being touched by Nate is not a new thing, but the kisses, and the shine of emotion in Nate's eyes, are. He loves this man and is loved by him in return, and the terror that normally accompanies that thought is put off for later because he can't be afraid when he's lying here with Nate.

"It pleases me very much," he says once the roll is done, once his weight has him stretched against the man. He's tempted to stay like this now, but he wants to work with the weight of something else even more. "But I'd like to please you even more."

Anders kisses Nate's chin again before resuming the slow trail of kisses downward, taking his time and enjoying himself.

A low chuckle vibrates in his chest.

"Is this where you prove what you said about being louder with something in your mouth?" But each kiss is like fire against his skin, a blessing on each inch Anders passes. It isn't mere sensation; everyone feels more or less the same from the inside, and different pairs of lips might be warmer, cooler, dryer, wetter than others, but no more magical. The magic comes from love, intimacy, the person attached to those lips. Sex with Anders is the best he's ever had because it's Anders. And now that it's been Anders, he doesn't want it to be anyone else.

He pauses to look up and grin, surprised and touched. "You remembered that?" Nate had held onto his teasing? Even before they'd had anything going?

"For that, I'll have to be extra loud." And he might need to reflect back on all the offers and promises he's made Nate while flirting, because clearly Nate's kept track of at least one. "I don't want to disappoint."

He rests a hand on Nate's hip as he kisses down to the very start of the thin line of hair, resting his cheek there for a moment. It's not just to tease. It's because he wants to prolong this time, this morning, with Nathaniel.

"And how loud will you be, I wonder, when my lips are wrapped around you shortly here?" But it is a little to tease.

"It stuck a bit. The imagery." He brushes damp strands of gold away from Anders' lovely face before both hands cradle his head, holding him gently where he rests. "Thinking of you. I often thought of you. The sight of hair falling over your face. How your brow creases when you concentrate. How careful you are with your hands. How expressive your eyes are. Your voice is so...clear, and thinking of it being rough with passion...stuck."

He touches Anders' chin, tipping his head up to look at him. A gleam has come to his eye.

"I will be exactly as loud as you make me. I shan't be faking anything here--you'll have to work for it."

It's rare that he's without words, but it's even more rare that anyone describes him with that much care. That much love. Anders has a little trouble meeting Nate's eyes because he's still dealing with how much thought his lover, his love had put into this, into him.

The silence stretches and he tilts his head back down to kiss Nate's palm. He doesn't deserve this man and his affection, but he has it. He has it, and he will do everything he can to keep it because Nate loves him as much as he loves Nate and Anders feels whole. The hollow left by Justice is covered over, here, distant and even healing, and Anders never wants to leave Nate's side.

"Oh, I'll work," he manages finally, voice edging toward as rough as Nate had mentioned. Nate's cock, flushed and thick, gets taken in hand before Anders kisses the tip of it, just lips at first until tongue plays over the tiny hole.

Nathaniel's inhale is audible as his head tilts back, chest rising, the warmth of those lips and that slick tongue drawing from him a breath that, from anyone else, would have been a soft moan. Fingers curl in Anders' hair, careful not to tear or tangle or pull. This time isn't to be rough, after all. This time is to be soft and slick and warm, all silk and sweetness.

The salt of Nate's skin is almost as delicious as the breath he pulls from the archer. Anders hums lightly before drawing back with a lick along the head. Nate's fingers feel like they belong there; Anders feels like he belongs here.

"We may have a problem." He kisses down the vein on the underside of Nate's cock, taking his time, clearly teasing because there's nothing in his voice that says there's a problem at all. "I may be getting addicted to the taste of you."

Let him please never hurt this man; let this never actually be a problem. It's a prayer he's whispered to ears that may never hear him multiple times, and it's something he'll continue to pray. It's also something he's working to keep off his face. He flashes a grin upward instead before sliding his tongue back up the vein and taking the man into his mouth, hand holding Nate's cock steady.

A breathless chuckle. "That's pretty silly. Nobody actually likes the taste of annnngh."

And now he's in that hot mouth, hips rolling involuntarily, trying to slide in deeper before he makes himself stop. Not going to choke Anders without his permission.

If it was possible to smirk like this, with the weight of Nate's cock resting on his tongue, Anders would. As it is, he makes a very pleased (and loud) noise at the hip roll. That had been good, though he could certainly use warning.

Reluctantly he pulls off, giving Nate a smile that's filled with longing. "You can use my mouth as you'd like. I'll tap your hip if I need air, or need you to slow down. I want," so much, "you to have me." And then he's wrapping his lips around the solid weight again, taking the man in as far as he easily can.

Hands comb tenderly through that lovely hair, and this time, when Anders goes back down, he rolls his hips slowly, gasping softly as slick heat envelops him. Then again, and again. He takes that beautiful face gently but insistently, with increasing urgency, unable to take his eyes off the sight.

"When I've finished," he growls lowly, "I'm going to flip you over and lick you open till you scream."

He hollows his cheeks, meeting each thrust eagerly. There's nothing silly about this; he does enjoy the taste of Nate because it's Nate and he loves this man. That's all it requires.

Anders kneads Nate's thighs, wanting, and the promise is enough to have him closing his eyes and groaning. Honestly, at this point all Nate has to do is keep playing with his hair and talking, but the last thing Anders would do is complain about more. In this he is very greedy and he doesn't care. Anything Nate wants to give him he'll take. He'll also make sure to hold true to his word, alternately humming and moaning around Nate's cock, being exceedingly noisy indeed.

That Anders lets him use him like this is a gift of trust Nathaniel can't fathom, especially not while his brains are being sucked out like this. He is afraid of hurting him, afraid to pull his hair too tight or bruise those perfect lips, but it is exhilarating to know Anders believes he is worth it even if he does. Faint, husky moans escape Nathaniel as he gets closer.

"You are so beautiful," he purrs, chest heaving. "I want to test you. I want to see how close I can bring you to the edge, and how long I can keep you there. I want to see you writhe and tremble and beg, and then watch how beautifully you fall apart for me. Would you like that?"

The noises are perfect, signs of how good Nate finds his mouth, but the words are even better. He's never had anything of the sort and it sounds phenomenal. Between bobs of his head Anders nods. He absolutely wants Nate to hold him at the edge, hold him there, all of it.

He can taste the bitter salt of Nate getting close and Anders takes a breath and leans forward, relaxing his throat, seeing how much he can take. One of his hands leaves Nate's thigh to cup the archer's balls and rub gently, encouragingly.

Nathaniel's toes curl and he lets out a long groan that arcs from his head into his chest as he spurts into Anders' mouth. Maker, it goes on and on, flashes behind his eyelids, waves of heat and electricity, until he at last sinks bonelessly into the mattress.

"Maker have mercy," he gasps, one hand releasing Anders' hair to tug at his upper arm, beckoning him upward for a kiss.

He has to back off a little, just to get more air, but then he's swallowing around Nate's cock, taking his release in and savoring every second of absolutely undoing his lover. At the tug he slides off with a loud, wet noise and actually does smirk at Nate before leaning up to claim Nate's lips. This kiss he takes control of, tongue slipping in and tangling with Nate's, sharing the flavor of the man he loves.

"To think I've not even used any of my tricks yet," he whispers against Nate's mouth when he breaks the kiss. "Have you ever had a mage for a lover before?"

"Never," he murmurs against Anders' lips, then kisses him again. He's never had any lover he was in love with. That's all the magic he really needs.

After a moment of thinking about it, he pulls away, squinting. "Whatever you're thinking of...is it safe?"

Usually when he's had non-healing magic flung at his body, it's been a bad thing.

Anders smirks again and holds a hand up, waggling the fingers and letting little sparks snap between them.

"Very, very well-tested. My own invention, Isabela and Zevran approved. You've no idea how upset they're going to be to never have it used on them again." Sex with them had been fun, but it pales in comparison to sex with someone he loves.

The sparks stop and he drops his hand to Nate's chest, sliding it down... and leaving a tingling trail all the way down to the archer's hip.

Edited 2016-04-11 03:37 (UTC)

That earns a gasp and a squirm. Maker, those fingers could go anywhere. When he stops, Nathaniel looks down at himself to see and...yes, his nipples are hard. His head drops back with a surprised, breathless chuckle.

"That's going to make for some interesting nights. And mornings. And every other time of day you decide to spring that on me."

He looks so proud of himself when Nate's head drops back, and Anders presses a kiss to the archer's chin.

"Yes, I suspect it will. As will other things. I've altered a few spells for fun." The smile he's wearing is a little vulnerable despite how pleased he is with Nate's reaction. Anders is a mage. Magic is a part of him, and having that be accepted as well as everything else is huge.

"I know what I'm doing with it, and I'll not hurt you." Not with magic, at least. One day maybe he'll be free of his fear of hurting Nate some other way, but at least he knows what he's doing with his spells.

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Feeling like P. Diddy

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