It had been an invitation Cullen was happy to accept. Like every time he went out with Fenris, or met him at his place, before leaving the house, he'd told himself that this time would be different. He wouldn't give in to impulse, wouldn't chase lyrium in the worst kind of dishonesty.
It was harder every time. The more Fenris opened to him and spoke of his past, shared his candor and affection, the worse he felt when things took an inevitable turn. It was why they didn't unless he was intoxicated, and why he avoided getting intoxicated with him most of the time.
Tonight not drinking would have been far more obvious than going with the flow. The wine was good, the stories better, and he in turn told some tales of hunting apostates and blood mages up and down the Wounded Coast. Of everyone he knew, he doubted anyone could appreciate that more. That was pain, too, in its own way.
His head was spinning so much that he was astonished he was still upright. It took longer than it should to fully register what was happening, Fenris warm and taut in his lap, his hand in his hair its own intoxication.
He pressed a sloppy kiss to that damnably perfect mouth and murmured, "I wouldn't want you thinking it's all I'm ever after." Twisted truth. Somehow it felt better than a complete lie.
The way he returned that kiss was equally as clumsy. It was difficult to properly affix himself to Cullen's lips, and as a result he sucked on chin and cheek as much as he did his tongue. It lingered before he was able to speak again, his body tingling in response to the proximity of the handsome man as well as his affections.
"I would not complain even if you were." After all, he was of the mind that he would take what comforts he could get in this city, before he was torn from it and thrown back into a world where he was being constantly hunted.
His hands dragged their way down the side of Cullen's face as a sigh was dragged from his throat. He was so warm, so happy, so Free. He wanted to express that pleasure more physically, and the first step in that was to get his friend's clothing off. He pulled at his shirt, fingers that were normally so nimble now fumbled at the buttons while he kept trying to sup on his mouth.
The fact that he wouldn't complain felt no better. It spoke more of what Fenris had lacked in his life than any quality Cullen brought to such encounters. Intoxicated as he was, he still knew that.
He tipped up into his touch bonelessly. Maker, he felt so good, somehow cut through the numbness. He looked down at his hands and chuckled. Both of his hands lifted to cover Fenris' and clasp them. "Here, let me," he murmured.
He'd be no better at the buttons. He tugged his shirt up from its tuck and dragged it over his head. He got caught up in it temporarily, fighting the cotton, until eventually his head popped free, hair mussed, and he could toss the whole thing aside.
"Mmmnh. Come here..." He reached for him again to draw him in against his bare chest. He felt entirely too hot all over. It didn't matter. He needed him close, something to add to the dizzy spin of booze and open camaraderie.
"Mmhm," he wordlessly agreed to the help as they both worked together to remove the offending piece of clothing. It seemed as though it took ages to finally remove, and when it was off he immediately set his hands upon his chest so he could explore the handsome expanse of it.
A surprised noise escaped him when he was suddenly pulled forward, and Fenris melted against his body as their lips met once more. Arms went around his shoulders as he fitted himself to every nook he possibly could. Muscle against muscle, hairy skin against smooth.
"Venhedis..." He swore in quiet appreciation of his friend's body. "This is why we have failed," he realized between their kisses. "I become so preoccupied with you that I can hardly think of the next step." It was so much easier to use hands, mouth and tongue when compared to actual penetration.
He chuckled easily. It was such an amusing thought, that they just became so preoccupied with kissing and touching that the fucking fell by the wayside. He wished it was something as simple as that. That was wholesome. Charming. He shoved the rest of the thoughts trying to form away, and he was drunk enough to get away with it.
"We'll just have to try harder." The words slurred together, the continued kissing making forming them correctly even more difficult.
"Think you're wearing too much, too." His hands fumbled at Fenris' waist. It would've been more suggestive with more dexterity. Instead, it felt like pawing. He found himself chuckling again under his breath. "Maker's breath, how much wine did we have tonight? I lost count."
He could taste it strongly on Fenris' tongue and his own. Still. He half imagined he could taste it in their saliva.
"I am," he muttered in agreement, though the words were not so clearly defined when they were mashed upon the lips of his dear friend. He felt so hot beneath his clothing, despite the fact that it was only a simple tunic and leggings. He wanted, no, needed his bare chest against Cullen's and was quick to tug at the fabric to yank it over his head.
It was lucky that Cullen was holding him because he nearly fell ass-over-feet when he got it caught around his head. But with a few more firm tugs it came loose and was dropped down to where his friend's shirt lay.
"We had--" he paused, blinked, his hair a fluffy mess around his face. He couldn't remember, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from Cullen long enough to count the bottles scattered about. So he simply shrugged before he launched himself forward and shuddered as his naked flesh connected with Cullen's. His hands cupped his face as the kiss resumed, then fingers dragged back to slide through his hair before he gripped the back.
He kissed him as if he needed to do so to breathe.
He laughed and held to him while he fought valiantly with his tunic and emerged victorious. Feeling him crash in against his chest was a relief, hot, flushed skin to hot, flushed skin. He wrapped his arms around him securely, mouth open and jaw working in the sloppy, ardent kiss. His teeth scraped his tongue, his lower lip, his upper. He couldn't stop himself from biting at him, although it wasn't rough.
"Sounds about right," he murmured belatedly. It didn't really matter. They had lots of wine. That was the crux of it. He encouraged his legs wider in his straddle of his lap so he could grind up against him.
He could feel his cock trying to plump. Dizzy desire was there, heat pooled in his belly and beneath his balls, but it was all through a wine haze. He didn't put too much thought into it. Rough hands dragged down Fenris' back to cup the firm muscle of his ass.
There was something undoubtedly wrong. Everything was perfect; Cullen, the kiss, his gorgeous body, his sexy voice, the way their bulges felt grinding against each other as Fenris angled himself just so. And yet, he felt hot, he felt ready, but he was not hard. Typically, at this point, his cock would have been attempting to burst forth at the very risk of the fabric that encased it. But not, even while his markings occasionally flared with obvious arousal, he was simply mashing soft-against-soft.
Apparently he was not the only one.
Undeniably, the familiar shock of heat went through him as his ass was grabbed, the feeling of wanting to be taken was obvious. Even so, no matter how much he kissed or writhed he could not feel himself lifting. He groaned in a mixture of arousal and frustration as he pushed against Cullen's chest, leaning back so he could intake some desperately needed air. His head swum as he looked down between them. The silent pause was almost deafening.
His fingers curled as finally he spoke, his voice low. "Have... we been drugged?"
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It was harder every time. The more Fenris opened to him and spoke of his past, shared his candor and affection, the worse he felt when things took an inevitable turn. It was why they didn't unless he was intoxicated, and why he avoided getting intoxicated with him most of the time.
Tonight not drinking would have been far more obvious than going with the flow. The wine was good, the stories better, and he in turn told some tales of hunting apostates and blood mages up and down the Wounded Coast. Of everyone he knew, he doubted anyone could appreciate that more. That was pain, too, in its own way.
His head was spinning so much that he was astonished he was still upright. It took longer than it should to fully register what was happening, Fenris warm and taut in his lap, his hand in his hair its own intoxication.
He pressed a sloppy kiss to that damnably perfect mouth and murmured, "I wouldn't want you thinking it's all I'm ever after." Twisted truth. Somehow it felt better than a complete lie.
no subject
"I would not complain even if you were." After all, he was of the mind that he would take what comforts he could get in this city, before he was torn from it and thrown back into a world where he was being constantly hunted.
His hands dragged their way down the side of Cullen's face as a sigh was dragged from his throat. He was so warm, so happy, so Free. He wanted to express that pleasure more physically, and the first step in that was to get his friend's clothing off. He pulled at his shirt, fingers that were normally so nimble now fumbled at the buttons while he kept trying to sup on his mouth.
"Mmm," he groaned. "I want you."
no subject
He tipped up into his touch bonelessly. Maker, he felt so good, somehow cut through the numbness. He looked down at his hands and chuckled. Both of his hands lifted to cover Fenris' and clasp them. "Here, let me," he murmured.
He'd be no better at the buttons. He tugged his shirt up from its tuck and dragged it over his head. He got caught up in it temporarily, fighting the cotton, until eventually his head popped free, hair mussed, and he could toss the whole thing aside.
"Mmmnh. Come here..." He reached for him again to draw him in against his bare chest. He felt entirely too hot all over. It didn't matter. He needed him close, something to add to the dizzy spin of booze and open camaraderie.
no subject
A surprised noise escaped him when he was suddenly pulled forward, and Fenris melted against his body as their lips met once more. Arms went around his shoulders as he fitted himself to every nook he possibly could. Muscle against muscle, hairy skin against smooth.
"Venhedis..." He swore in quiet appreciation of his friend's body. "This is why we have failed," he realized between their kisses. "I become so preoccupied with you that I can hardly think of the next step." It was so much easier to use hands, mouth and tongue when compared to actual penetration.
no subject
"We'll just have to try harder." The words slurred together, the continued kissing making forming them correctly even more difficult.
"Think you're wearing too much, too." His hands fumbled at Fenris' waist. It would've been more suggestive with more dexterity. Instead, it felt like pawing. He found himself chuckling again under his breath. "Maker's breath, how much wine did we have tonight? I lost count."
He could taste it strongly on Fenris' tongue and his own. Still. He half imagined he could taste it in their saliva.
no subject
It was lucky that Cullen was holding him because he nearly fell ass-over-feet when he got it caught around his head. But with a few more firm tugs it came loose and was dropped down to where his friend's shirt lay.
"We had--" he paused, blinked, his hair a fluffy mess around his face. He couldn't remember, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from Cullen long enough to count the bottles scattered about. So he simply shrugged before he launched himself forward and shuddered as his naked flesh connected with Cullen's. His hands cupped his face as the kiss resumed, then fingers dragged back to slide through his hair before he gripped the back.
He kissed him as if he needed to do so to breathe.
no subject
"Sounds about right," he murmured belatedly. It didn't really matter. They had lots of wine. That was the crux of it. He encouraged his legs wider in his straddle of his lap so he could grind up against him.
He could feel his cock trying to plump. Dizzy desire was there, heat pooled in his belly and beneath his balls, but it was all through a wine haze. He didn't put too much thought into it. Rough hands dragged down Fenris' back to cup the firm muscle of his ass.
no subject
Apparently he was not the only one.
Undeniably, the familiar shock of heat went through him as his ass was grabbed, the feeling of wanting to be taken was obvious. Even so, no matter how much he kissed or writhed he could not feel himself lifting. He groaned in a mixture of arousal and frustration as he pushed against Cullen's chest, leaning back so he could intake some desperately needed air. His head swum as he looked down between them. The silent pause was almost deafening.
His fingers curled as finally he spoke, his voice low. "Have... we been drugged?"
Because clearly that was the only explanation.