who_is_she (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
who_is_she) wrote2014-12-27 07:52 am
who_is_she) wrote2014-12-27 07:52 am
there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin
Sebastian felt like his world was coming apart at the seams.
Never before had he so deeply questioned himself, his vows, his beliefs. Even in his wild youth he had still believed in the Maker, had believed in purpose and in love, and his brief rebellion after joining the Chantry had been more about feeling abandoned and shamed by his family than any true disruption of beliefs.
If it was just temptation, if it was just resisting something his vows forbid, Sebastian was sure he wouldn't have been having such a hard time. The part he kept returning to, the part he couldn't shrug off, was that somewhere, deep inside him... It felt right. It felt good. He'd felt Hawke's eyes on him, heard the gentle affection in his voice, and inside him something fluttered and strained to be free.
Loving Hawke had started to feel... Natural.
And that was the whole problem, wasn't it? His feelings for Hawke felt like the kind of love he had spent his life revering and reading about in the Chant, but that wasn't all. Those feelings were wrapped intricately around with the lust and the desire, the secret, shameful desires he had been fighting against his whole life. There was no way for Sebastian to feel one without the other; in the same thought he was full of love for Hawke's strength of character and desired to feel his strong arms wrapped around Sebastian.
His inner turmoil had led him to a night at The Hanged Man, playing Wicked Grace with a Isabela and Varric and a few other regulars. Sebastian had taken a glass of wine with the game, allowing himself that small indulgence, and after the game Varric had taken him aside and asked if he was all right. He hadn't spilled the honest truth, but something close to it; he'd said he was doubting his vows and considering disobedience.
Part of him had expected Varric to laugh, but he didn't, he just looked at Sebastian for a moment and then said if the rules aren't working for you anymore, maybe you need new rules. He'd also reminded Sebastian that he'd been officially released from his vows, so the only person he was wrestling against was himself. Varric had also added that maybe he deserved to let himself have something nice.
The words had a profound effect on Sebastian, and for the first time he considered allowing himself to love Hawke, sin and all. It still seemed wrong and shameful but there was a growing part of him that ached for Hawke, for all of him. He'd still been mulling over Varric's words while he was laying in bed, and then... he'd broken.
He'd been wondering how it might happen, if he allowed it, wondering if he could be open and honest with Hawke or if he'd simply grab him and pull him down into a kiss. He'd been thinking about that, kissing Hawke, imagining it, when he'd thought of the tent. It had come back to him often in the weeks since it had happened, but mostly it was pushed away without being dealt with. Now, though, he thought about it. He remembered how badly he'd wanted to touch Hawke and feel him, and had imagined that he had rolled over and made sure Hawke knew he was awake.
He imagined knocking Hawke's hand away and replacing it with his own, and kneeling between Hawke's legs and using his mouth on him. He imagined the stunned look on Hawke's face, the way he might try to speak but inevitably give into the pleasure, burying both hands in Sebastian's hair and fucking his mouth until he shoves his cock into Sebastian's mouth and comes down his throat. Suddenly Sebastian had realized he was cupping himself through his clothes, and even as he froze, horrified, his hips still moved against his hand and he felt the threads of his self control pulling taut and breaking.
He'd given up, given in, closed his eyes and reached into his pants and taken himself in hand. He'd lost himself in the fantasy, in his mind Hawke rolled over him in the tent, pushed him down onto his front and torn at his clothes. He imagined Hawke entering him roughly, one hand buried in his hair and the other making finger-shaped bruises on his hip.
Sebastian had come with Hawke's name on his lips, and fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep almost immediately afterwards.
The next morning reality had crashed over him and he'd spent the day in the Chantry, frantically praying and repenting for how he'd sinned. But even after hours of praying Sebastian felt no better, felt no closer to resisting this temptation, so he went back to an old standby; drinking. He walked into The Hanged Man, ordered himself a bottle of expensive red wine and downed the whole thing while playing Wicked Grace and cheating a handful of people out of a handful of sovereigns.
Sebastian felt like he was coming apart at the seams; like he was going to give into this thing he had been resisting desperately and there was no saving him. He was Damned, he knew it now, there was no way of climbing out of this hole.
It was several hours later when Sebastian was sitting at Varric's table, his head down on the table while his thoughts spun dizzily and repeated words like sinful and temptation and irredeemable.
"Someone should go get Hawke," said a voice, and Sebastian picked his head up at that name, seeing Varric and Isabela sitting across from him, looking worried.
"I'm fine," Sebastian said, or tried to say; guessing by the looks on Isabela's and Varric's faces, he hadn't really communicated anything.
"He can't get home like this. I'll do it," Isabela agreed, standing and moving away. Sebastian tried to follow her with his eyes but he couldn't manage it and just dropped his head back down onto the table.
"It'll be all right, Sebastian," Varric says gently, patting Sebastian's shoulder.
Never before had he so deeply questioned himself, his vows, his beliefs. Even in his wild youth he had still believed in the Maker, had believed in purpose and in love, and his brief rebellion after joining the Chantry had been more about feeling abandoned and shamed by his family than any true disruption of beliefs.
If it was just temptation, if it was just resisting something his vows forbid, Sebastian was sure he wouldn't have been having such a hard time. The part he kept returning to, the part he couldn't shrug off, was that somewhere, deep inside him... It felt right. It felt good. He'd felt Hawke's eyes on him, heard the gentle affection in his voice, and inside him something fluttered and strained to be free.
Loving Hawke had started to feel... Natural.
And that was the whole problem, wasn't it? His feelings for Hawke felt like the kind of love he had spent his life revering and reading about in the Chant, but that wasn't all. Those feelings were wrapped intricately around with the lust and the desire, the secret, shameful desires he had been fighting against his whole life. There was no way for Sebastian to feel one without the other; in the same thought he was full of love for Hawke's strength of character and desired to feel his strong arms wrapped around Sebastian.
His inner turmoil had led him to a night at The Hanged Man, playing Wicked Grace with a Isabela and Varric and a few other regulars. Sebastian had taken a glass of wine with the game, allowing himself that small indulgence, and after the game Varric had taken him aside and asked if he was all right. He hadn't spilled the honest truth, but something close to it; he'd said he was doubting his vows and considering disobedience.
Part of him had expected Varric to laugh, but he didn't, he just looked at Sebastian for a moment and then said if the rules aren't working for you anymore, maybe you need new rules. He'd also reminded Sebastian that he'd been officially released from his vows, so the only person he was wrestling against was himself. Varric had also added that maybe he deserved to let himself have something nice.
The words had a profound effect on Sebastian, and for the first time he considered allowing himself to love Hawke, sin and all. It still seemed wrong and shameful but there was a growing part of him that ached for Hawke, for all of him. He'd still been mulling over Varric's words while he was laying in bed, and then... he'd broken.
He'd been wondering how it might happen, if he allowed it, wondering if he could be open and honest with Hawke or if he'd simply grab him and pull him down into a kiss. He'd been thinking about that, kissing Hawke, imagining it, when he'd thought of the tent. It had come back to him often in the weeks since it had happened, but mostly it was pushed away without being dealt with. Now, though, he thought about it. He remembered how badly he'd wanted to touch Hawke and feel him, and had imagined that he had rolled over and made sure Hawke knew he was awake.
He imagined knocking Hawke's hand away and replacing it with his own, and kneeling between Hawke's legs and using his mouth on him. He imagined the stunned look on Hawke's face, the way he might try to speak but inevitably give into the pleasure, burying both hands in Sebastian's hair and fucking his mouth until he shoves his cock into Sebastian's mouth and comes down his throat. Suddenly Sebastian had realized he was cupping himself through his clothes, and even as he froze, horrified, his hips still moved against his hand and he felt the threads of his self control pulling taut and breaking.
He'd given up, given in, closed his eyes and reached into his pants and taken himself in hand. He'd lost himself in the fantasy, in his mind Hawke rolled over him in the tent, pushed him down onto his front and torn at his clothes. He imagined Hawke entering him roughly, one hand buried in his hair and the other making finger-shaped bruises on his hip.
Sebastian had come with Hawke's name on his lips, and fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep almost immediately afterwards.
The next morning reality had crashed over him and he'd spent the day in the Chantry, frantically praying and repenting for how he'd sinned. But even after hours of praying Sebastian felt no better, felt no closer to resisting this temptation, so he went back to an old standby; drinking. He walked into The Hanged Man, ordered himself a bottle of expensive red wine and downed the whole thing while playing Wicked Grace and cheating a handful of people out of a handful of sovereigns.
Sebastian felt like he was coming apart at the seams; like he was going to give into this thing he had been resisting desperately and there was no saving him. He was Damned, he knew it now, there was no way of climbing out of this hole.
It was several hours later when Sebastian was sitting at Varric's table, his head down on the table while his thoughts spun dizzily and repeated words like sinful and temptation and irredeemable.
"Someone should go get Hawke," said a voice, and Sebastian picked his head up at that name, seeing Varric and Isabela sitting across from him, looking worried.
"I'm fine," Sebastian said, or tried to say; guessing by the looks on Isabela's and Varric's faces, he hadn't really communicated anything.
"He can't get home like this. I'll do it," Isabela agreed, standing and moving away. Sebastian tried to follow her with his eyes but he couldn't manage it and just dropped his head back down onto the table.
"It'll be all right, Sebastian," Varric says gently, patting Sebastian's shoulder.
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This was the main source as to why he shied away from initiating anything. He banned himself from showing any kind of interest. This was a first for him, normally, Hawke would’ve been throwing all his flirtatious jokes and making an effort of building that bond. However his actions with Sebastian went a different way. He was limited with conversation, keeping things brief. He tried at compliments that would stay friendly and never construed as anything more. He had to play it safe, for Sebastian’s sake…for Hawke’s sake.
There was always that looming worry that haunted Hawke. He’s psyched himself up for rejection. There is that big chance that the feelings cannot be returned, especially in this case. He knew the possibilities, or lack of, when it came to this. At some point he realized that this presumably one-sided relationship will end as soon as it starts. He’s been recycling this thought for so long and mentally preparing the inevitable. The could only end in disaster and yet Hawke stubbornly wants to let him know. Hawke’s unchanged in that, always has to let someone know what he’s thinking.
Hawke was pacing himself back and forth in his estate, wondering how exactly to tackle all this. It was long until he’d gotten a visit from Isabela and an invitation. She gave smirk before revealing that Hawke should join at The Hanged Man for a drink and night to remember. He didn’t seem the harm in that. A drink could help ease some tension. He agreed to join and walked back with her. Just as they arrive Hawke immediately spots Varric and Sebastian sitting at a table.
His heart stops in that moment.
Sebastian? What’s he doing here?
He’s right there. Right in front of him. Head down. It’s not too late to escape. Hawke panics a little but he won’t leave. It’s just an ordinary night here, what’s a few drinks with friends? He was just caught off guard. A place like this didn’t seem like it was up Sebastian’s alley but Hawke’s been wrong before.
He grabbed a seat at the table, quietly nodding at Varric. Isabela stayed by the counter, ordering a drink but keeping her eye’s on her companions. Hawke could always feel her staring, he doesn’t need to look to know she’s there, this time it felt comforting. He welcomes the security. Hawke tried not to pay as much attention to Sebastian but the one thing he noticed was an empty bottle of wine. Sebastian’s face was flushed. He’s definitely been drinking, looks like he got a head start. Hawke leaned in closer at the table.
“So, What brings everyone here on this lovely night?”
Hawke greets his friends with his usual cheery smile.
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The rush of finally allowing himself to want Hawke is overwhelming, and right now, with the amount of alcohol in his system, it's the only thing Sebastian can think about. After a long moment of silence, Sebastian's eyes intently locked on Hawke's, Varric clears his throat.
"Choir Boy here joined us for a game of Wicked Grace--cleared us all out, too," he says, glancing between Sebastian and Hawke like they're having a particularly interesting duel or something. Sebastian starts again when he realizes how long he's been staring and looks back down at the table, his head spinning dizzily for a moment.
"I drank too much," he admits quietly, rubbing his hands over his face and trying to think about anything other than Hawke's hot breath against the back of his neck and Hawke's hands on his body. He feels the need urgently, a mix of his own broken self control and the alcohol's effect on his inhibitions.
Even once would be good enough, he thinks, just once. That even seems plausible; who would kick a reasonably attractive and eager bedmate when all they wanted was one night? He could live with that, he thinks, and he would be asking Hawke right this moment, but even drunk he has the presence of mind to not say something like that in front of Varric and Isabela.
"We thought Seb might need a little help getting home, and we thought you would be most qualified for the job," Isabela says, all sly eyes and sly smiles, giving Hawke a knowing look.
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Hawke laughed at Isabela’s remark.
“Went a little overboard, huh?”
He chuckled.
He sees what’s going on, Sebastian’s gotten too far with the bottle, This wasn’t a problem, he’s taken in drunk souls before.
“Of course. I can take him with me.”
Hawke never rejects helping people. It’s a curse, but whenever a friend is in need he’s willing to help. He’s gotten used to people asking for favors so what’s one more to the list. He’s genuinely happy to offer his services.
He turns to Sebastian. He’s drunk but still there, lost in thought. Hawke has to be on his guard and not say anything too stupid. He shouldn’t be the one to make regretting decisions tonight. He turns his attention to Sebastian.
“How ‘bout it, Sebastian?” Hawke stood up and approached him.
“We have extra rooms at the Estate.” He threw Sebastian’s arm around his neck, wrapped his arm around his waist and proceeded to help him out of his chair.
“And I’ve got the cutest puppy.” Hawke cooed, thinking about his dog waiting for him at home. This gave him the strength. The small strength to forget he’s actually holding onto Sebastian.
“I’ll take good care of him.” Hawke signals to Varric and Isabela that he’s off. Carrying an off-balanced drunk Sebastian, but he was keeping it together. He felt more at ease that Sebastian wasn’t completely there. This would make the walk home not so awkward, Hawke can easily have a conversation with just himself, in fact he’s doing it right now. He is rambling about his dog, about Sandal, about Gamlen, about any mundane thing in his life. Just talking Sebastian’s ear off. He’s assuming Sebastian’s tuning him out so Hawke doesn’t leave any room to breathe. As long as his mind was occupied by his lips flapping, he could reach home in no time.
“Here we are.” Upon arrival Hawke noticed that most of his residents have left or gone to bed. His dog was even asleep by the fire and he made sure to walk quietly enough to not disturb. He let’s Sebastian take a seat at a bed corner.
“Would you like anything in particular? Glass of water?" A radiant smile greets his guest.
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Sebastian leans heavily on Hawke to whole journey, not really listening to what he's saying but letting the hum of his voice seep into his skin. Hawke's smell is all over him too, and if Sebastian plays up how drunk he is he can lean his head on Hawke's shoulder and discreetly sniff his neck.
"You brought me to your house?" Sebastian asks as he looks around the room with wide eyes. Maybe he really wasn't playing up how drunk he was, because his head is spinning and he can't recall the last several minutes at all. He sits down hard on the bed when Hawke releases him, gazing around like he's never seen Hawke's bedroom. He hasn't ever seen it before, he remembers suddenly. He's never allowed himself so far into Hawke's space before.
"I'm fine," he says distantly, then turns his face up to look at Hawke, frowning, "You should have taken me to the Chantry. We shouldn't..." He pauses then, unsure how to end that sentence. Shouldn't what? Sleep in the same house? Be allowed near each other? No, Sebastian's the one who should be kept away; he wants Hawke so bad that he aches for it.
He thinks maybe he's not drunk enough, because he's staring up at Hawke like he wants to devour him whole. Sebastian licks his lips and glances over Hawke, spread out so nicely before him, lets himself look like he hasn't ever allowed himself to look. Hawke's armor covers impressive bulk, armor that he obviously didn't bother pulling on to come resuce Sebastian from the clutches of the dreaded wine bottle. Sebastian is glad; Hawke looks better in comfortable clothes, clothes he wears around the house, answering his letters and tending to his dog.
It's strange that that's the thought that convinces him, the thought of Hawke puttering around this big house in his robe, leaving the warmth and comfort to come and help Sebastian through his breakdown. He wants Hawke, wants all of him, and right now he's prepared to throw all of his cares out of the window for just one taste.
He smiles, slowly, leaning back on his hands and looking up at Hawke.
"No, I do want something," he says, almost whispering, recalling his long-dormant skills in seduction, "I want..." He stands, swaying a little and catching himself on Hawke's arms, stepping right into Hawke's space.
"I want..." he repeats, leaning in close to Hawke's face and then tilting his head to breathe hotly over his jaw and ear, Hawke's beard tickling at his lips. His hands slide up over Hawke's arms and shoulders, squeezing on either side of the base of Hawke's neck, "I want you," he breathes, and in the next moment he's licking and nibbling at Hawke's ear.
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“I want you”
He couldn’t believe the words he was hearing, the things Sebastian was doing. Frozen, he was in shock. His crush, his friend, the Chantry brother, Sebastian, said he wanted Hawke and is showing it physically. Sebastian’s lips and hot breath on Hawke’s cold skin. The hairs on his neck were standing on end. He doesn’t know what to say. He just couldn’t believe it. Sebastian instigated it, certainly with the help of a drink, but he shamelessly threw himself. Hawke felt Sebastian’s hands resting on his shoulders, feeling his grip tightening as he nipped at his ear.
Hawke wanted this but he would’ve never expect Sebastian to be the one to take the first step. He never expected Sebastian would’ve taken any step at all. Hawke felt he was selfish to want Sebastian, to ignore his vows and love him from afar. He just didn’t think this meaningless crush would go beyond something one-sided. He was wrong. Very wrong.
In a way, he’s relieved. The feelings are mutual. Could this had been the reason why Sebastian drank in the first place? He made connections from the times it seemed like he was avoiding him. The times when conversations felt too brief or cut off. It made sense now, drunk or not, Sebastian is sincere.
Hawke was finally getting it. He too had been withholding the truth, partly out of respect of Sebastian’s vows, but he ever takes his own advice about trusting friends or talking to them. Sebastian was always there to listen and Hawke never indulged. He was feeling kind of foolish for ever assuming the worst. The outcome only proved to go in his favour. That made him smile, he even wants to thank Sebastian for taking the initiative. Hawke wasn’t going to pass up this moment.
Hawke’s hands gently approached Sebastian’s head, fingers intwine into his hair. He’s accepted Sebastian’s flirtatious gestures, he wriggled away just enough room to press his forehead against Sebastian’s. It was hot, and his breath, smelled of wine. It wasn’t jarring at all, just finally being able to reciprocate the emotion made Hawke feel relieved and at peace.
“I want you too.”
Words he whispered so softly before closing the gap between their lips and melting into a kiss.
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He kissed back passionately, whimpering a little in the back of his throat as Hawke's hands in his hair sent a shiver down his spine. He wrapped his arms around Hawke's shoulders, pulling him in tight and pressing the length of his body against Hawke's.
"Hawke--" he said, gasping against Hawke's mouth, "Garrett, I..." he pulled back just far enough to speak, still interrupting himself every couple of words to kiss Hawke, "I've seen the way you look at me. You can have me." He fumbled backwards a little until his legs hit the bed and he sat down hard, his hands on Garrett's hips pulling him in close.
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Hawke looked at Sebastian in a daze. He wasn’t puzzled by what he meant more so Sebastian begging. He never knew Sebastian would be so willing to do whatever Hawke wanted. This excited him, Maker knows, he wanted it too, but when it came to Sebastian, Hawke was confused. He just accepted the concept that Sebastian wanted him but now to be held at the mercy of Hawke, this is was most surprising. However, he could see the hungry desires fill Sebastian’s eyes, the plea in his voice, Hawke couldn’t disobey.
He wants this as much as him. Hawke’s only dreamed of it, now he can finally live it out. His hands caressed his partner’s cheek, fingers resting under his jaw, tilting his head up, making Sebastian look at him.
“Have you? I want nothing more.”
His expression crept into a sly smile, hands made way down the pants, dragging out his limp manhood. It wasn’t anywhere near hard but that would not take long. His soft dick brushed lightly against Sebastian’s lips, the head gently pushed in to part them. Hawke was already getting excited to just have Sebastian take it all in. The warmth and moistness, its better than anything he’s imagined. Both of Hawke’s hands take place at Sebastian’s head, his fingers sifting in his hair. The adrenaline begins kicking in but he keeps his patience, for now, Hawke takes slow, gentle thrusts.
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Hawke's words make him whimper again, and he goes wide-eyed when Hawke's hands leave his face and go to his pants. His eyes are glued to Hawke's hands as they reach inside his pants and his mouth actually waters when he pulls out his dick.
Sebastian glances up briefly, his expression disbelieving because there isn't anything more he wants in that moment than Hawke's hard cock in his mouth. He refocuses quickly, opening his mouth eagerly at the brush off soft skin against his lips.
He reaches up with one hand to guide Hawke's dick into his mouth; soft as it was Sebastian could easily fit the whole thing in his mouth and he sucked and licked, eager to coax Hawke to full hardness.
Just the kissing and having Hawke in his mouth is enough for Sebastian; he's already hard and aching but doesn't pay it any mind. Hawke hardens in his mouth and puts his hands on Sebastian's head, making small movements with his hips and Sebastian moans encouragingly.
He moves his hands away from Hawke and pushes his head into Hawke's hands, looking up and giving Hawke a pleading look. He wants Hawke to fuck his mouth and use him, but at that moment he knows he wouldn't have the words to ask with his voice So he hopes Hawke can take a hint.
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He could feel his manhood swelling up inside the mouth, however Sebastian is still being very eager taking it in. Hawke’s control was slipping, his movements were getting aggressive, he’d plow deeper, knowing he’s hitting the back of Sebastian’s throat. Hawke throws his head back moaning and barrages an assault into Sebastian’s face. His dick would dig so far into it that Sebastian’s lips would meet at the base. It made him so hard, and with his friend gasping for air, Hawke was done being nice.
His hands grip Sebastian’s head, forcing it violently against his body. Hawke grunts in pleasure with each buck, doing it more and more. Using such strength to penetrate the throat, Hawke could feel the gagging spasms at the tip. Sebastian’s moans were guttural, vibrating mouth walls against the entire length. It sent shivers down Hawke’s spine, feeling himself traversing to a climax. He was edging at this point. Trying desperately to last. He craved it, badly, to fuck Sebastian like this until release but he had to have some restraint. Hawke wouldn’t allow himself to come just yet.
He pulls his arousal out of from the mouth, holding the wetly coated shaft in his hand. His hand grips the length and strokes it gently, making sure that it stays aroused. He looks down at the holy man. He still has that angelic look in his crystal blue eyes. Remaining some what innocent looking even after what they had just done. Hawke forms a mischievous look, scheming something more interesting to do to his partner. He bends down to lean in and whispers into Sebastian’s ear.
“Face your back towards me”
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Hawke's pace and intensity pick up so that his cock is hitting the back of Sebastian's throat with every thrust and it makes Sebastian moan loudly around Hawke's erection. He shifts his hips restlessly, wanting friction against his own erection but unable to release his death grip on Hawke's blankets. His breeches are too tight to give him any kind of satisfaction that isn't maddening. Sebastian thinks it might not matter anyways because if Hawke comes down his throat he'll very likely come himself.
Just as Sebastian is moaning at that thought Hawke's dick pulls all the way out of his mouth and Sebastian makes a desperate, helpless keening noise in response. He opens his mouth, just about to beg Garrett to come down his throat when Hawke leans in and whispers in his ear and Sebastian gasps. He nods immediately and rapidly, scrambling backwards to comply with Hawke's orders as fast as he can.
"Yes, yes, please, Hawke," Sebastian croaks, his voice hoarse and trembling. When he reaches the middle of the bed he stops and turns over, holding himself up on his hands and knees with his knees spread wide and his back arched to stick out his ass.
"Please, touch me, fuck me, anything just-- Please," he said, trembling all over from arousal.
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He pulls out the small bottle and empties some in his hand. Stroking his shaft carefully, making sure to coat it in oil evenly. He takes another amount on his fingers and pressing firmly into Sebastian. He manages to get one finger in easily, pulling it back then pushing it in again. Knowing one finger was simple he persuades another one at the same time. Sebastian had two fingers fucking him, Hawke could see that the prep had been working, after a few small thrusts with his hand, he gently removes them from the hole. Hawke closes in and presses the head against Sebastian’s hole. A hand snaked onto his companion’s hips for grip, using the other to help sink in his arousal.
Hawke was aching to just begin pounding into his friend but he had to keep some composure, he wants to make certain that this was going to be as good for Sebastian as it was for him. It only took a few moments to slide inside fully, having the gap between them disappear. It was relieving to Hawke that he had little trouble entering, perhaps Sebastian had been more prepared before this.
It was hot, hot from the last activities but now he could feel the smooth bodily warmth inside of Sebastian. He begins thrusting, slow at first, he would gradually build a quicker pace once he felt that leftover adrenaline. Strong pulses were emanating from his shaft, intensifying each thrust. The smacking of skin, heavy panting, Hawke’s lust returned tenfold. He would not let himself go yet, he is not that selfish.
His palm approached Sebastian’s length, thick just as his own, stroking it vigorously. Hawke’s previously lubed hands made it slick to grasp, working the entire length, fingers engulfed the cock, massaging the head with his thumb. He wants Sebastian to come, more than anything. This thought made him so fixated on pleasing him, thinking about it made him edge. He was still penetrating, tempo reaching at a lower speed, he was so close. He was so very close and losing control, his moans escaping, hunching over Sebastian, burying his dick harder and harder inside him.
He can feel it approaching. his grip on Sebastian’s cock was tightening, giving it few spread out strokes. Heaving at his partners back, muscles tensing, his legs growing weak, he was coming. He let out a groan followed by a cry for Sebastian’s name. He released himself heavily in his partner’s ass. Bucking a few more times, making mess inside. The tension left his body but Hawke still had his hand on Sebastian, continuing the jerking motion.
"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you."
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Sebastian starts to whimper and moan when Hawke slowly pushes inside, the way eased by the fingers Sebastian had used on himself the previous night. Hawke moves slowly and carefully but Sebastian still quickly dissolves into begging and praising Hawke in between loud, heartfelt moans.
Sebastian loses himself in the movements and the pulsing heat and pleasure of it, loses himself so much that he's startled when Hawke's hand wraps around his dick and starts to stroke. His moans increase in volume and urgency, and his arms start to quake and then bend, leaving him with his chest against the bed and Hawke holding up his hips. He bucks wildly in Hawke's grip, shoving back onto his cock and forward into his hand, teetering on the edge of completion.
Sebastian lets out a loud keening noise when he feels Hawke come inside him, still moving urgently against Hawke and chasing his own orgasm. Sebastian's so close that it only takes a stroke or two to send him over the edge, and then he's coming messily over Hawke's hand and practically wailing.
Sebastian collapses down onto the bed and basks in the fading pleasure, breathing hard and not trying particularly hard to stay conscious.
The alcohol is starting to fade into a headache and there's a little inkling of worry niggling at the edge of Sebastian's mind, like he's forgetting about something, but Sebastian pushes it all back. He wants to enjoy this moment, the afterglow and the fading warmth and the peace. He doesn't want to think about what it means or what will happen next; the only thing he wants is to enjoy this feeling right now.
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Cleaning off the mess Sebastian left in his hand, Hawke plops beside him in bed. He was enamored by what they just did. It sparked a big fondness in his heart. He wanted to bury himself in his companion, happy that they could share that moment. It’s a memory that will never leave Hawke. His passion, his desire, his feelings for Sebastian, felt as an achievement. All Hawke wanted to do now was to embrace and unload his pent up romantics but he felt the need to keep that reserved.
He wasn’t sure if he could utter that three worded phrase, not yet. It was sex, fantastic sex, but his mind clouded if it really meant anything. He was positive his own actions were out of endearment but could Sebastian’s just been out of lust? He didn’t want to presume but still wanted to open up more to his friend. Whatever is in store for the future Hawke could only hope it works favorably, for now his concentration was escaping him and had to rest.
He had to commemorate Sebastian’s efforts.
“Well, that was wonderful.”
A plain comment but it was truthful. Unbelievable to be lying beside Sebastian. It was not a first time, but it was certainly more relaxing than the tent incident. He really enjoyed Sebastian’s presence and wants more of it.
“I hope we can do this again…”
He leans in.
“…Next time you can be sober!”
Hawke laughs at his own joke, nervously, realizing its probably not appropriate to jest.
Oops. That’s sort of awkward.
“Anyway, goodnight, Sebastian.”
He leans over and kisses Sebastian’s forehead before rolling over into his side. It didn’t take long for him to drop cold into deep sleep. Hawke is very good at sleeping, like a corpse, and it looked like nothing would wake him for the rest of the night.