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Response to the various reading lesson/voice!kink prompts on the kmeme. Fenris/M(age)Hawke, set sometime during Act III after things have been mended.


It was embarrassing to read the words aloud the first time, so Hawke was allowing him to read this passage through silently first, quietly mouthing the words and asking when something didn't work. The book about Shartan was “dense” according to Hawke, and perhaps not the best choice, but Fenris was determined to get through the thing—since Hawke had given it to him and they'd begun their lessons it had been sitting as a challenge, and now Hawke had finally decided he was ready for it.

Those early lessons had been spent sitting in front of the fireplace in the old mansion, a comfortable distance between them, then later on the balcony off the second floor landing in Hawke's mansion, among a little hanging garden planted by Hawke's mother, one Hawke quietly admitted to tending for his mother, his Fereldan accent growing a little thicker when he embarrassedly admitted his mother would kill the hardiest plant, but Hawke had more than his share of experience with growing things. Then back to the space in front of the fireplace at Fenris' home after their budding relationship became strained again.

And now that things were mended between them they did the lessons where it pleased them. Hawke had kept up the little garden even after Leandra's death, and after three years the balcony looked very out of place in the city, more green than stone and full of delicious, wet earthy smells. They had started there, reclining on a bed of soft pillows among the greenery, and moved in when they chill of night drew on. Now they were sitting in Hawke's bed, Hawke leaning against the headboard and Fenris sitting between his legs, using Hawke as something of a pillow to lean against. Supposedly Hawke was reading over his shoulder, keeping ahead of Fenris in case he had any questions, but he was doing far more distracting than helping, nibbling his way down those sensitive ears, nuzzling just behind them and drawing his hands through Fenris' hair. Fenris swatted him away from time to time, growled a warning, “Aodhan.” and the mage would stop for a while before seeming to forget himself and starting all over again.

When he finished Aodhan was kissing his way down Fenris' spine from the nape of his neck, lips soft and gentle, and Fenris warred for a moment between anger at the distraction or giving in to Aodhan's attentions. “I'm done.”

“I'm just getting started,” Aodhan murmured against the nape of his neck.

Fenris growled a warning, “Aodhan,” and jerked away, brushing the back of his neck as if to get rid of the sensation.

Grumbling, Hawke settled his hands on Fenris' hips and his chin on Fenris' shoulder, and said, “Go on, then. Let's hear it.”

When he began reading aloud Aodhan stilled, quietly whispering corrections to him when he stumbled too hard, and otherwise doing nothing to disrupt. Eventually it seemed the whole room was filled with Fenris' voice, stutters and all, and it became something of a point of embarrassment for him. Even if it was only Hawke to hear it pained him, made him feel weak, and he eventually broke off, turning away from the book spread across his lap. “I can't--”

“You were doing fine,” Aodhan murmured, reaching up with a hand to caress Fenris' chin and nudge his head back toward the book. “Its not something you learn in a week or learn to do well in a year.”

“Its been three and I still sound like a fool.” Fenris sneered, turning his head to look down at Aodhan as best he could, catching only a glimpse of messy hair and another caress for his troubles. “I can read well enough to get by, anyway.”

Getting by is not well enough, Fenris. And it takes most children much longer to get where you are already; I've always heard its harder for adults to learn, so you're actually doing quite well.” Another gentle touch, and Fenris wasn't sure if he found them reassuring or annoying at this point. “Keep going.”

“Its pointless. I do well enough for my own needs. I don't see why we continue these lessons.”

“Well, firstly, I want you to rely on me for nothing. You're a free man, you should be able to sever all ties and make it on your own.” Fenris looked away, grimacing, grip on the edges of the book tightening. “”Secondly, it was an excuse to spend time with you when things were... tenuous. It still is an excuse. Thirdly,” Aodhan nuzzled at the back of Fenris' ear, and by that the elf knew he was about to say something he was afraid would upset Fenris, “I am enamored of your voice. You never speak much, and when you do I find myself enraptured. I enjoy having you read to me, stumbles and all.”

He couldn't help but laugh a little, leaning back into Aodhan's embrace, settling his head against the larger man's shoulder for a moment. The admission made some light of the situation, and Fenris paused to clear his mind with a deep breath, to savor the feeling of Hawke's broad chest pressed against him, wondering idly at how muscular Aodhan was despite being a mage... the Magisters had often been weak or unfit in form, but it seemed outside the Imperium these apostates led hard lives, and Hawke's lean, sleek body characterized it well. Aodhan was not as tall or as built as his brother, not in any way abnormal, but he was broadly built and Fenris found it one more mark of his difference from other mages. “Next you'll be telling me that after I've left for the night you pleasure yourself to the memory of me stuttering through whatever you've had me reading that evening.”

Aodhan shifted uncomfortably against him, running a nervous caress down one arm. “And what if I do?”

Fenris opened his mouth to speak and found he had no words for a moment, uncertain how to react to this idea. If his voice had that much power over Hawke.... He deliberately lowered his timbre, making his voice huskier in subtle ways. “So you get off on our reading lessons, then?” More uncomfortable shifting, and Fenris leaned back a little harder, properly pressing himself into Aodhan's body, felt a growing hardness between the man's legs, little more than a throbbing heat at the moment. “You're better at holding back than I realized,” Fenris murmured, rolling his head back as far as he could and nipping at the underside of Aodhan's jaw before leaning in to whisper, little more than a breath from Aodhan's ear, “Let go for me.”

With a full-body jerk that was almost a convulsion, Aodhan let his hands wander around to lay a palm against Fenris' chest, the other against his taut stomach, well-developed muscles easy to feel through the tunic the elf wore. “You're trying to distract me from the lesson.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” was a dark, sultry purr into the human's ear, and Aodhan's hand on his chest twitched, he turned his head away from Fenris and it was suddenly an awkward angle, but Fenris nipped at the helix of Aodhan's ear and continued. “I'm simply taking advantage of your little revelation.” Those hands twitched again, and Aodhan stifled a little moan somewhere in his throat. By how rapidly the man's hardness had grown and those little reactions his voice had a truly profound effect on Aodhan, and Fenris couldn't help but laugh, a surprisingly bright sound, not trying to inject anything sultry into his voice. “If you get off so readily on me reading about Shartan, what would happen if I read one of Isabela's books to you?”

“I'm glad one of us is enjoying himself,” Aodhan muttered darkly, and Fenris nipped his ear again, this time harder, in protest to his tone.

“You're not? Your reactions seem to indicate otherwise.” Fenris ground against him, enjoying the press and heat and insistence of Aodhan's hardness, and the larger man stifled another moan.

Hands moved up to grip his shoulders, to urge him to move forward a little, losing contact with the straining hardness in Aodhan's pants. “You're making fun of me for something I can't help. Its humiliating enough, my lack of control.... Of course I'm not enjoying myself.”

Closing the book and setting it carefully aside, Fenris turned, reached out to tangle a hand in Aodhan's messy hair and pressing him back into the headboard with the other, pinning him there. Hawke took in a sharp, short breath, almost surprised. “And if I told you I found it... arousing?” the way the word rolled off his tongue was organic and lusty, the sound of it rising heat. “The prospect that I could bring you to release without so much as touching you,” he drew in close to murmur in Aodhan's ear, breath playing hot against the other man's skin, “make you come on my voice as hard as you'd come on my cock...”

Fenris began kissing his way down the soft flesh of Aodhan's neck, just beneath his ear, chasing the man's quickening pulse with his lips. With another jerk Aodhan's hands came up to clutch at Fenris' shoulders, as if to draw him close, but simply hung in the air halfway through the motion. “Fuck. Please, Fenris.”

“Stop holding back,” words rolled against his skin like a caress. “Because I'm not stopping until you've come for me.” The hand still tangled in Aodhan's hair began stroking through, a soothing repetitive motion. “Where's the shame, if its something we both desire?”

That one word, desire, spoken against the hollow of his collarbone in a hot breath and a slow drag of lips, drove straight to Hawke's core, and there was no more strength in him for restraint, finally reaching for Fenris's shoulders to push him close, looking for some contact other than that wicked mouth, but Fenris resisted, insistent on teasing him, so Aodhan's fingers dug into the elf's shoulder blades. He could feel Fenris smile against his skin.

It was a point of shame, a point of fear he couldn't approach, losing control over so small a thing—because much as Hawke seemed like a carefree sort, there was little about him that was not about self-control. A lack of self-control meant there were cracks in his defense, weaknesses a demon could take advantage of—and if he went ass up for the first desire demon who simply used Fenris' voice on him, then what good was he? It was surely just as bad as the shame Fenris felt over his reading.

The hand tangled in his hair feathered down to cup his hardness, and Fenris still smiled against his skin. “Good. You're as hard as I am at the thought of getting you off like this.” Every single note and roll of Fenris' voice made his cock twitch, and he ground against the hand—or tried to, it was gone immediately, and Fenris was pushing away from him, shifting to straddle his thighs and setting hands against his shoulders, effectively pinning Aodhan in place. “You'll do nothing that I do not tell you to do. Understand?” The growl and command and promise all wrapped up in that dark voice made him ache.

“Fenris, please--” Stop never made it out, and after a moment Fenris kissed him, sucking at his bottom lip until it sensitized and then running his tongue over it. Much as he feared it Aodhan wanted this, and he tried to relax, to let Fenris have his way. Calming a little, he found there was more than just a wicked gleam and a need for dominance in Fenris' moss-colored eyes, but that deep affection they shared that was more than the scars left on the elf's body and soul from his servitude and more than the scars left on Aodhan's heart from their time apart and all his losses over the years. “May I speak?”

“Only to moan my name.” When Fenris let go of his shoulders Aodhan remained as he was, obediently, and the elf started working at his trousers, tugging them down roughly, and in the moment Aodhan's aching hardness came free he did just that, moaning Fenris' name, pleadingly. Fenris made a little satisfied sound deep in his throat, clearly pleased with himself, and Aodhan's cock twitched once more at the rumble of his voice, that wordless expression of approval goading him on to react more strongly.

“If I'd known you'd react like this, I would've done it sooner. I confess it has a certain... appeal to me. I'm not used to having this sort of control over others save in fear. So what is it, Aodhan?” Fenris drew close, sharp face no more than a few blinks from him, eyes making perfect contact and Aodhan couldn't look away, drawn into the depths of desire he found there. “Is it that I'm an elf and you a human? That I'm stronger, I could take this from you if I really wanted to?” Fenris' hand was against his chest then, the pressure of his touch a subtle threat to back up his words, the faintest hint of light playing across his tattoos. “Or is it that you're a mage and I am... what I am? Tell me.”

After a hard-won breath Aodhan managed, “Its you,” suddenly husky voice breaking on the tightness of his throat, his fear and his want. “Just you. Everything about you. You have every reason to hate me but--” The glow faded, Fenris drawing back a little, the inclination of his head and the set of his lips suddenly speaking confusion rather than desire and control. “I trust you with—everything that I am. I want--”

Fenris silenced him with a kiss, and Aodhan moaned into it, the heartfelt confession putting him even more in Fenris' power. The elf could ruin him, unmake him in a hundred different ways—but he wouldn't. Because they agreed more often than either of them would like to admit; because they worked well together, each having become good at reading the other's body language and guessing their next action; because no one else would be allowed to see Fenris in his more vulnerable moments, in admitting his illiteracy and that killing Danarius had brought him no peace; because Fenris had offered what Aodhan needed after Leandra's death, his quiet presence, a gentle touch, a chaste kiss. They were friends first, above all else, and lovers second, because of the lust between them and the bond that couldn't be explained to others without falling on romantic concepts. There was none of the hard desire of moments before, none of the control and submission, only affection.

And when Fenris drew away there was an instant of tenderness before the wicked gleam returned to his eyes and the coldly pleased smile graced his lips. The elf began unbuttoning his own tunic, slowly. “I think that honesty deserves a reward. What would you have me do? You know my hands are deft and strong, and I know how you ache for a touch—I could trace all the hard lines of you then tease with just feather-touches to your cock until you beg for release.” Beg--the intonation of that word struck him, and Aodhan's hardness twitched. “Or I could tease you otherwise, work my fingers into you.... But you'd prefer my cock, wouldn't you?” With the tunic finally unbuttoned Fenris shrugged out of it, tossing the thing aside casually, left sitting there in only the leggings that left absolutely nothing to the imagination when the elf was hard. Aodhan wanted to touch him, to feel the hard muscle under his hands, to worship it with touch, but kept his hands to himself as he had been instructed, nothing without permission.

“Yes, I think you'd rather I speared you my with cock, split you open, flipped you over and fucked you through the bed.” Fenris whispered these words directly into his ear, bracing himself against Aodhan's shoulders and keeping their bodies carefully apart.

With a little gasp Aodhan managed, “Fenris--” Bit his lip to keep from saying more, remembering the rules of this little game. He could do nothing that Fenris did not permit, and that included--

“I'd let you suck me off, first, so I could spend myself in the wet heat of your mouth, give your ever-wagging tongue something to occupy it. And you'd love it; I know you do, much as you're loathe to admit it, servicing me on your knees. You know what you look like from that angle, that your hair almost hides your half-lidded eyes, that in those moments you are utterly devoted to my pleasure.”

--saying anything but the elf's name. Not, please, let me do it--

“That way it would last,” a promise in those words, one that made him twitch again, painfully hard. “I would tease you for a while, with my mouth, perhaps....” Lips hovered just above the corner of his jaw, breath hot against his skin, the air heavy with the promise of a kiss. But it never came, and Aodhan gave a little cry of frustration. “...until I was hard again.”

--not, just fucking touch me already, because he was so close he was gnawing at his lip again, tasted copper as the heat began tightening in his belly--

“I would take you face down, pressed against the bed, take my time preparing you, never quite giving you enough, until you begged for it. It would be slow, but a punishing pace, hard.” Breath still hot on his skin, Fenris's voice reached a new depth, each word as good as a stroke on his aching cock. Aodhan tried to buck up, looking for some friction, but Fenris gripped one hip, held him down. “Come for me, Aodhan.”

And he did, blinding hard and violent, moaning Fenris' name as loudly as possible, almost a harsh cry. When he surfaced from it Aodhan found himself curled up against Fenris' shoulders, hips and legs still pinned, the elf's free hand clasped at the nape of Aodhan's neck. Everything ached after that tension and release, and he felt spent in far more than lust, emotionally drained by the experience. When he made to draw away Fenris' hand left his hip to snake around his back,a gentle touch to mirror the repetitive stroking against the back of his neck. The grasp held him in place, so Aodhan simply leaned his head against Fenris' shoulder.

They drew closer in the embrace after a moment, Fenris' body pressed against him, Fenris' own hardness against his stomach, still bound by the leggings, almost a shock. Aodhan finally stirred against him, moving to satisfy Fenris' need, but the elf's grip stilled him again. “Not yet.” Aodhan drew away enough to look up at him, some feeling finally creeping back in after the numbing experience, and the look in Fenris' eyes struck him as deeply as those vivid descriptions. “Thank you.”

Aodhan couldn't stifle a little laugh, surprised at Fenris' words, the sincerity of his tone, and the sound itself. Emotional warmth returned with it, like the blooming heat of a new fire. “Thank me? Why?”

“For your trust.” Fenris brought his hand up from Aodhan's back, still keeping one curled around the back of his neck, to brush a lock of hair behind one of the man's ears. “For letting me do that. It helps... to know. To see it.”

Aodhan gave him a bright smile before laying his head against Fenris' bare shoulder again, as he knew what the elf couldn't directly say and was trying to: the doubt was so deep-seated he struggled with it, probably always would, and seeing the effect his voice alone had on Aodhan and Aodhan's willingness to submit wholly gave him some measure of power, security, let him know that his emotions were quite perfectly reciprocated in such a demonstration. “Let's not get to reading Isabela's books aloud just yet. I don't think I'd make it through a single chapter with your voice.”

Fenris chuckled at him, a dark, rolling sound, and Aodhan nuzzled against the nearest patch of skin, delighted in this new find. “I think our lessons will be much more interesting from now on.”

oh my

Date: 2011-03-24 09:35 am (UTC)
ext_599324: (Default)
From: [identity profile] i-am-elenilote.livejournal.com
So good..

(I will now go and pretend to work for the next 9 hours and not think about this story.)

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dalishstorm

January 2013

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