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Samahlen	By : BronxWench Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 1569 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins, and I make no money from this story.

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Dream

It was somewhere very late in the night, and the tent was warm with the heat of two bodies in such close proximity. Wraith shifted a little, a rock digging into his hip through the bedroll, and then settled more comfortably against Alistair's shoulder. The man was just too damned comfortable, Wraith decided. The rock was still digging into his hip, but he was unwilling to leave the warmth of Alistair's body for as long as it would take to remove the wretched thing. Wraith wriggled again, and Alistair turned onto his side and pulled the elf against him as he dipped his head for a kiss.
Alistair's lips were warm and dry, and he tasted surprisingly sweet, like wild honey. Strong blunt fingers, callused and rough, slid through Wraith's pale hair past the sweep of his ear to cup the back of his head and draw him deeper into the kiss. Wraith probed gently at Alistair's lips with his tongue, seeking entrance and surprised to be granted it. Still, it did not do to question the luck the Creators granted, and Wraith let himself go as he plundered Alistair's willing mouth.
The kiss went on until they needed to breathe, and Wraith leaned his forehead against Alistair, slightly dizzy from both the lack of air and from the intensity of the desire that consumed him. A soft moan from Alistair, and Wraith pulled back a little, his eyes searching that familiar face and seeing green-gold eyes dark with wanting.
"Wraith," Alistair breathed, and all the world was wrapped up in that one word.
Wraith hurried to kiss him, to stop him before more words escaped. It was too fragile still, this thing between them, and the wrong words would shatter it. Better lips and fingers, better the shared heat of skin sliding against skin. Such simple things could be understood.
Alistair seemed to understand as well, opening into the kiss as his hands slid down across Wraith's shoulders to trace the fine line of his spine and come to rest on the gentle curve of Wraith's buttocks.
Again Wraith searched that open face, and again he saw want and trust in those heat-darkened eyes. Wraith brought his hands up across smooth skin, thumbs tracing across hard nipples. He wanted to ask, to know how far he should go, but Wraith did not dare speak. Another kiss, then, opening himself up and urging Alistair to explore, his eyes half-lidded. Wraith let his hands slip, skating over ribs and the hard line of taut muscle to cup sharp hipbone.
This was what Wraith had hoped for, a beginning to take the place of all the endings, something to make the days less bleak. What Wraith did not know was what Alistair hoped for, and he did not trust words to hold such things. Words could shape things, define them, and this needed to define itself, whatever it was that was growing between them. Even in the shadows of his own thoughts, Wraith feared to put a name to it, lest he change it.
Wraith could feel Alistair, hard and needy against the hollow of his hip. The elf was just as aroused, his own cock already weeping. Wraith moved his hand, pushing past Alistair's smallclothes to wrap his fingers around Alistair's cock, mildly surprised by the width of the man. Alistair stiffened for a moment, and then relaxed.
"Oh, Maker..." It was barely a whisper, Alistair's eyes widening as Wraith stroked firmly, and then he gathered his own leaking cock into his hand as well. Wraith looked into those green-gold eyes, captivated by the trust in them. The elf continued to stroke, twisting his hand to let their cocks slide against each other, the friction delicious.
It was only a few more moments before Alistair stiffened again, his cheeks darkening, and Wraith captured his lips in a kiss to muffle his soft cry as he spilled, painting both their chests and stomachs liberally. Wraith breathed in sharply, the sharp smell recorded in his jumbled thoughts as 'Alistair, mine.' That was enough to make Wraith's own sac draw up, and his breath hitched as he bit back a cry of his own, shuddering as he too found release.
Wraith's hand relaxed, releasing their cocks, his eyes locked on Alistair's eyes and a smile tugging at his lips. Alistair brushed a lock of hair from Wraith's damp forehead, the slightest frown creasing his own forehead.
"Wraith," Alistair breathed again, and it sounded like something fragile and terrible, like hope.
"I'm here," Wraith murmured, listening to his heart as it slowed gradually.
"In the morning, will you tell me that this was a dream?" Alistair's fingers traced the vallaslin as they curled beneath Wraith's cheekbones.
Wraith turned his head into the caress. "Is that what you want?" For a moment, he could not breathe, and he let his eyes flutter closed as Alistair's fingers continued to stroke.
"No," Alistair replied, and Wraith felt warm dry lips brush across his forehead. Alistair's hand fell away, and strong arms wrapped around Wraith as he let sleep claim him again, a smile on his lips.

Prompt word: Dream
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