undwarfy | Open post

He had gotten moans and groans and whimpers and begs. When he bit at Fenris' ear, Varric finally got a cry, the elf's control, all that will he spent to keep quiet, falling apart in the face of that sensation. Not even Isabela had paid much attention to his ears, but Varric's bite had him thrusting against his hand and whining in Tevene. "F-fasta-- Close, fucking-- please," he bit out at last, panting between words, the words disjointed as his distracted brain flailed at Trade grammar.

That reaction surprised the hell out of him. He'd expected something - I mean, ears like that, you expect elves to have a Thing about them - but that noise made him gasp and shudder into Fenris's hand.

Then he had to go and beg, and Varric smirked wickedly, slowing his movements even more. He dragged his tongue along the long, pointed rim of the elf's ear and nibbled at the tip gently, still keeping his hand moving at a glacial pace.

He whimpered. He even whined a soft, "Varric, amasio-- cruel--" as his hips strained for more, trying to take what Varric was so stubbornly slowly giving. It made his hand lose its rhythm on Varric's length, the smooth stroking becoming a series of fits and starts as he strained for what he'd lost.

Varric was learning to play him like a harp, finding every place on his body that elicited a reaction and using it against him. He should be angry, he thought, or at least impatient, but there was something sweet about this particular kind of frustration.

The loss of rhythm was disappointing but a victory: it meant Fenris was starting to lose it, sliding into desperation, into real need. Varric worked him over like that for a few minutes longer, with painfully slow strokes that ended in his palm sliding over the head, and gentle nips at the elf's delicate ear.

Finally, when Fenris was well and truly desperate, he nipped at Fenris's ear hard, tightened his grip, and sped up his strokes, pumping his cock relentlessly.

"That's right," he growled, dragging Fenris's earlobe in his teeth and stroking him hard. "Come on, gorgeous."

His heart did a funny thing when Varric called him gorgeous, but thinking about that was pushed aside in favour of following exactly the sort of order that he liked. His mouth sought Varric's and, almost as soon as lips touched lips, his climax hit, leaving him panting. The attempt at a kiss was aborted as he thrust, fucking Varric's hand as strand after strand of white spattered hand and skin and bedcovers.

Fenris was left shivering, smiling dreamily against Varric's mouth, and starting to sag onto the mattress like a ragdoll. It was the strongest climax he'd had in... ever, he was sure, and whatever deity was listening preserve him, but he hoped it was the first of many.

Varric kissed his forehead and was content to cradle him there, but... he looked down at his hand. And the bedcovers. And...

"Dang, Broody, you know how to make a mess," he said mildly. Varric was forced to extricate his other hand from underneath Fenris to grab the nearest thing- which, regrettably, turned out to be his tunic. Whatever, he had others, and he was paying through the nose for laundry service here.

Once they were cleaned up, he returned to wrapping himself around Fenris protectively. He felt obligated to get as much of his skin on Fenris's skin as possible, just in case of... something. Knowing that his touch could soothe the pain made the already wonderful skin-to-skin contact even more precious.

His arms wound around Varric and he gave a contented sigh. He still owed Varric - fully intended to do what he'd promised, too - but it would have to wait until he was a little more physically able. "You teased me forever," he groaned, voice gone low and warm and happy, "and you're surprised at the amount after? I'm going to enjoy teaching you about this."

Because with that kiss, surely it wouldn't stop here. That kiss, the way he was being held - there would be more chances, and he wanted every single one. He even took the opportunity to kiss him again, soft and almost chaste with one hand sliding up to toy with the ends of his hair. "But," Fenris purred, lips against Varric's, "you do seem to be a fast learner."

"O-Oh, really~?" Varric simpered, doing an admirably bad impression of a blushing young maiden. "I- I don't know, serah, they didn't teach us about this in Chantry school~!"

He snorted and nuzzled his whiskery face into Fenris's neck, making sure to rub his stubble all up on the elf before pulling away. "I'm not that fuckin' new, I know how sex works."

The scrub of whiskers on skin made him squirm and laugh, halfheartedly trying to get away when he didn't really want away at all.

His stomach gave a little flip. That was... new. Very new. A little frightening. It was one thing to want sex with the same partner again and again. Good sex was something to come back for. But now, with the rush of arousal slowly easing, he was surprised at himself. Pleased and surprised. The attachment - the feeling behind the kiss. It lingered. And it made him nestle in close.

"Not sex with men, I'd imagine. And that, I can teach you about." But after a pause and a nuzzle of his own, he added, "When you want."

"Men? Ehhhhg, I don't know," Varric said with a somewhat absurd cringe-face. "Can I just stick with you? I don't know if Kirkwall's ready for me to start eating at the flesh buffet."

Yes, Fenris. Sex with Varric means stupid, corny jokes, whiskers on skin, and kisses. One of which Varric started up immediately.

The joke made him smirk. The whiskers made him laugh. The kiss made him sigh and smile against Varric's mouth. But his words had reminded Fenris of a certain heated statement that he needed to make come true. With his mouth occupied, he drew his hands down along Varric's shoulders, over his chest where he skimmed all of his fingers through the chest hair he had swiftly come to appreciate and over nipples he hoped were as sensitive as his - all with the intent of going ever further. Varric's cock needed his attention.

Varric hummed appreciatively into the kiss at those fingers on his chest, and gathered Fenris closer to kiss him a little deeper. Then hands wandered more, and Varric groaned softly, encouraging. As Fenris kept touching, his hands going further south, he made soft noises of appreciation and kept Fenris close, seemingly unwilling to part with any skin-to-skin contact at all. His own hands wandered at one point, cupping Fenris's ass and giving it a good squeeze. It was one of the only remaining spots on his body that hadn't been relieved of the markings' pain yet, and it seemed as good a reason as any to grope him.

And that grope was a reason to nip his lower lip. "I told you," he murmured, "that I would use my mouth on you. Do you still want it, or do you want my hands?"

Or his ass, he would've offered, but that seemed to be occupied. He pushed his rear against Varric's squeezing fingers, moaning against his lips, shameless in his enjoyment.

Varric moaned back, catching Fenris's mouth for another lingering kiss before murmuring, "You think I'd pass up those lips, Broody? Have you even seen yourself? I've been thinking about your mouth for weeks."

He squeezed Fenris's ass in emphasis.

"You'll have to let go of my ass for that, you know," he purred, amusement and maybe even mischief in his eyes for all he was having issues of his own. Now that he had the option to kiss, it wasn't something he wanted to stop. It was the trust as much as the attraction that made him want to stay close. Despite his gentle chiding, he was the one to lean in this time, giving kiss after soft kiss as his fingers worked the tie from Varric's hair.

Varric kissed him back gently, hands kneading at Fenris's ass. He sighed at the hands in his hair, and once the tie was gone he shook his head gently to let his hair shake out. It was a good look for him, though he never thought so: hair falling around his face, looking for all the world like one of the heroes on the covers of his romance novels.

"I guess I can manage that," he answered between kisses, letting his hands move up to the elf's waist.

He licked at Varric's lip before kissing again, and began kissing his way down. The line of Varric's jaw needed attention, so he mouthed at it, then gave his neck a sucking kiss. He nibbled at one collarbone, nuzzled over his chest, and then fastened his lips over Varric's nipple to lick and suck and graze with his teeth. He'd wanted to do this for far too long.

Varric gasped and threw his head back, letting out a somewhat startled moan. He'd never had any lovers pay that particular spot any mind - after all, when there's a woman in the picture, who's really spending a lot of time on male nipples? - but was surprised at how good it felt.

"Damn," he groaned, hands roaming over Fenris's back. "That's new."

"I knew I would teach you something." His smugness was tempered with a smile, then interrupted by a light bite to the nipple he'd neglected. "Just wait until I show you more."

And there was so much to show him. Later. Now, he let his hands slide down along Varric's legs, over his thighs, then back to his hips as his mouth continued down. A kiss above his navel, and then below, and his hairless, filigreed chin brushed the hardness his hand had curled around before.

That bite made Varric gasp, but it quickly gave way to shivering in anticipation at Fenris's slow descent. At some point his hands found their way into the elf's white hair, carding through the silken strands, stroking pointed ears gently. He couldn't help staring at Fenris, at the grace of even his smallest movements, at those gorgeous full lips kissing a line down his body. It seemed strange, somehow, to have something so smooth and beautiful nuzzling at him, full lips pressed to coarse hair.

"Mm," he sighed, brushing hair from Fenris's eyes with a thumb. "Speaking of showing me more- I've always heard that men give the best blowjobs."

His eyes gleamed with amusement. It almost looked like he was about to keep talking. Shut him up, Fenris.

The gleam in his eyes said clearly that the challenge was accepted. So his eyes closed, lips parted, hand bracing the base, and then he drew a line from base to tip before closing his mouth over the head. It had been some time since he'd last done this, but there were some skills a person didn't forget. For Fenris, this was one. Damn but he'd forgotten how much he liked the feeling of someone's hard cock in his mouth when it was something he wanted to do - and he wanted this like air.

His tongue swirled around the head, tracing the crest before he started to move down with skill borne of practice. Lips hiding his teeth, he took Varric further into his mouth - and he wasn't shy in the least about letting his free hand come between Varric's legs to fondle his sensitive sac, taking pleasure just from giving pleasure.

Varric did not keep talking.

The instant that tongue touched his cock, Varric's mouth fell open, watching the elf as if hypnotized. His mouth closing over the head made him moan, one hand moving to fist in the bedcovers tightly.

Maker, Fenris had barely started to move- was just barely taking his cock into his mouth - and already Varric was white-knuckling in his hair, the bedcovers, hips quivering slightly from the effort of not thrusting into Fenris's mouth.

"Maker's breath," he groaned, head falling back against the pillows.

When he opened his eyes to look up in Varric's direction, seeing his head tipped back like that, he knew he needed to get Varric's attention for the next bit. He moved his hand from the base of Varric's cock to stroke up his stomach, to tease one nipple, and to beckon just under his chin. A cheeky little 'watch me' gesture.

He waited until he saw Varric's eyes on him. And then, shifting just a bit, he relaxed a specific few muscles and went further, until his nose was pressed against Varric's belly, and his tongue was undulating along Varric's entire length. Best not to think about how that skill was acquired, and just enjoy the results.

Listen, Varric doesn't know jack or shit about the sex lives of gay men. For all he knows, this is a basic skill required of the manflesh buffet, or a natural talent of elves. Anyway, he definitely wasn't going to think about it while Fenris was deep-throating him: his only reaction was to let out a shockingly plaintive moan, fist Fenris's hair, and gasp a jumbled, half-intelligible garble of curses and praise.

It was all he could do to try and hold still: as it was, his hips rocked involuntarily into Fenris's mouth. Varric caught himself and tried to hold still, succeeding only in stilling his hips to little twitches. Maker, he could see himself in Fenris's throat, a bulge going impossibly far down that moved when he did.

"Shit," he cursed, hands carding through silky white hair. "F-Fenris- god damn it."

He answered with a low, purring moan that ended in a cocky chuckle. He liked that reaction. More than a little. He pulled off, but only to tell him, "If you want to fuck my mouth like that, we'll have to change positions."

But it didn't stop him from sliding his mouth over him again, hand meeting lips, his saliva making it slick for his hand to move. He'd do what Varric wanted - and eagerly. There was something so satisfying about those sounds--

Probably, he thought, the same reason why Varric kept touching him before. Before both of them knew that this was possible.

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