Back to Basics (lovingvambrace)

[championmage]

(Continuation of some other stuff.)


He leans his head forward, gratefully accepting the fingers rubbing against his scalp like a cat who's succumbed to having his head stroked (after pretending he didn't want it.) It's almost enough to make him purr, particularly as Cullen eases up behind him and wraps an arm around him.

"Your approval was all the convincing I needed." He turns his head, enough to nudge the edge of his beard against Cullen's cheek, sinking further into his arms. Maker, it hasn't really been months since they were this close, but it sure as shit suddenly feels like it. There's a mild quiver under his skin, a familiar thrum of anticipation that is all too ready to slink back wherever it came from, used to being denied of late.

Garrett bites his lip and closes his eyes. He exhales, and those fingers grasp Cullen's thigh, pulling him closer.

"Isn't it hot outside?" An understatement, as they're in a bloody desert. "You should take a break right here, where it's cool." He rocks his hips back in a very unsubtle grind.

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[championmage]

"My proxy?" Thanks to the recent orgasm he isn't quite firing on all cylinders yet, and it takes him a moment to discern what he means. It hits him, and he cracks a grin.

"Oh... could you possibly double over backwards and fuck your throat?" he murmurs. "Come across my face? Wait. I'm confusing myself. Are you me, or are you you? Or..."

A combination of a stupid joke and a bit of lingering frustration that they're still not as free as they ought to be. As he thinks they ought to be, anyway, because the healers certainly wouldn't agree with Garrett's assessment. Cullen's remark about revisiting this at night has him suddenly rather giddy again.

"Touch yourself," he murmurs. "Where I can see. Will it take the edge off, or make it even worse? I'm not sure..."

[lovingvambrace]

He gives him his most droll eye roll for his horrible jokes. "So good to see your humor isn't broken. I don't think there's a healer alive who'd know what to make of that."

The expression doesn't last long. His eyes hold lambent heat at the more serious request, his smile deepening. "Pretty sure I know the answer for myself," he says.

Kneeling up, he spreads his thighs further to put himself at a good level for his viewing pleasure. He tugs the rest of the lacing free of the breeches and lets out a soft groan of relief. His cock emerges thick and red, already wet at the tip. He makes a show of scooping up from the base and squeezing just beneath the head to push a larger bead of clear precum out, letting it drip down over his grip. "Like this?" His voice is already thicker.

[championmage]

"Intact and working perfectly, I'm sorry to say." Even if it was badly bruised for a while, he's slowly gotten back into a more frequently jovial mood. It makes it easier not to fret, and not to worry about making Cullen fret.

His eyes widen, nearly glassy as he watches Cullen remove himself from his breeches, that rough hand wrapping around his swelling cock. Maker, his mouth is watering. This is almost certainly going to make it worse for him, too.

"Yes. Like that." He swallows. "Slower. Just your fingertips. I want you to ache as much as I am. In the-- non-literal..."

[lovingvambrace]

He can't help but grin as his sentence runs away with him and trails off. He reaches down to squeeze his calf lightly, keeping his grip of his cock front and center for him to see. "Don't worry, Love. I didn't get the impression you were wishing me pain." He's ridiculous sometimes. It's why he loves him as much as he does.

Shifting his hold, he takes himself between fingers and thumb, lightly stroking with slow movements up and down. His breathing hitches almost immediately. It is a form of torture after sucking him off the way he did. His hips jut forward of their own volition.

"You have your wish." His voice is soft. There's an intimacy in the closed space that reminds him of some of their forbidden trysts in Kirkwall, anywhere they could manage. That brings a different sort of ache, one he doesn't entertain for long. He wants this to be a happy occasion for both of them, not an evocation of regrets or old fears.