makinglies | Duplicity AU: Justice for a General

As long as Anders knows they are playing--

In truth there's a lot of potential benefit for them both here, as well as fun, and Alaric's having a good time with it, too.

He steps forward, using one foot to nudge Anders' feet apart to make room for him to stand between them. "Take mine off."

Just one step at a time and watching Anders' face as well as his mind. Not out of fear but out of care.

It's a confused feeling. He bucked authority of any sort, the idea of being ordered by or bound to anyone was horrible...but not here. Not with Alaric. It probably couldn't be trust, though that might play a part of it insofar as they could trust each other after a month and too many secrets between them.

What he could call it was the swell of vast affection that he felt when looking into Alaric's eyes. That affection that made him want to lay down everything for this man. Something akin to how he'd felt for Karl, but deeper for not being a teenager's love confined to the limited people around him. That was the word of it, wasn't it? What a wonderful and terrifying thing, then, that Alaric gave him an 'order' and Anders wanted nothing more than to do that and know what else he could do to help. To serve.

He couldn't say if he liked this revelation yet or not, but it served the moment, so he leaned into it. He curled his fingers under the hem of Alaric's shirt and slowly lifted it up and over his head. When he settled back down, it was with his hands on Alaric's hips, that playful but entranced look on his face as Anders looked up at him. "May I kiss your skin, your stomach and chest?"

With Anders, his typical response would be 'You may do whatever you want', but that isn't right here. So, his answer is a simple, breathless, "Yes, and you should."

Then his hands are working Anders' hair down, deft and confident and not asking first but almost infinitely gentle in making sure there is no pull. It would be accidental and thoughtless and while he might pull Anders' hair at some point, it won't be unintentional when he does.

"And don't bite."

If he could purr, Alaric's hands in his hair would do the trick. He leans into them momentarily, but doesn't let it distract him from what else he wanted.

He leans in, starting low with Alaric's navel and planting gentle, reverent, kisses to the skin there. The definitions of muscle under skin received a few moments of extra attention, his tongue laving appreciation before his lips came in, careful to avoid even the brush of teeth on skin.

Anders moved his attention up Alaric's torso, up his chest, to his neck, where he stopped his trail at the hollow of his throat.

His hands in Anders' hair stayed gentle, but they tightened in gradual increments as Anders' mouth moved. Muscles tightened under the warmth, skin flushed, his breath shortened and his eyes darkened.

When Anders made it to his throat, Alaric bent down and caught Anders' mouth in a searingly hot, demanding, kiss that was hard and forceful - demanded access to deepen the kiss and then thoroughly, calmly, dominating it.

Without ever once turning rough or anything more harsh than steadily forceful.

When he broke for air he pushed Ander's back gently. "Pants," he warned, giving Anders to change his mind before reaching for his waistband. Then paused, looked at Anders and tilted his eyebrows up. "How do you feel about restraint?"

A moan tore itself from him and into that wonderful (perfect) kiss. Alaric demanded and Anders answered with everything he had, never once trying to push back. Maker, why in the world would he want to?

He very nearly whined when the kiss was broken, but he did as he was asked and began stripping off his pants.

The question nearly had him laughing but he held it back. 'Manically turned on' was not typically attractive. "Only in the bedroom, not with metal." When he was free of them, he leaned back in for another kiss, but he hesitated, waiting for permission. "Please kiss me again."

"Perfect."

He removed Anders' pants quickly, then leaned back in for another of those intense, steady, controlled and demanding kisses. He took advantage of that kiss and pushed Anders steadily back onto the bed until he Anders was down and Morgan over him.

He slid his hand down, one at a time, to lift each of Anders' wrists to the mattress and then used steady, invisible, heavy force to pin them in place.

Anders melted into the kiss and readily let himself be pushed back to the bed. The...force magic, he supposed, was useful little thing. He hadn't seen it used like that before, but it was certainly a nice touch. He pulled lightly at it just to test it, but then turned a smile back to Alaric that held a wealth of warmth and adoration.

"How clever. I like it."

He liked magic. He liked people clever with their magic. He liked Alaric pinning him with his magic, leaving him open to the other man's whims. He was most certainly turned on and most certainly lost to this gorgeous man.

"You're wonderful, brilliant, and impossibly attractive. In case you were unaware."

"I am very aware, thank you." There was a flash of a grin to go with that remark, though, playful and sincere.

Truth was, though? He did know. He worked hard at some of it, and used the rest to the greatest effect he could. Or smothered it when that was more effective for his goals.

Right now, though? With Anders and his desire to regain some control and find some intimacy? He was undiminished, unstifled, completely him and enjoying himself and Anders, even if some arrogance came along for the ride.

The beauty of using magic for restraint is that he could lift it and responsition Anders, easily, or hold firm. He did both.

He started with bending one of Anders' knees upward and then using a bit more force to hold it in place. He paused there long enough for a gentle, deep, kiss, then pulled back and got to work - work, like it wasn't incredibly pleasurable for him.

He started with his mouth on Anders cock, moved onto his mouth and slick fingers and finally let up that rigid hold and refusal to let Anders move (though he never broke eyecontact or failed to pay attention to how Anders felt) and moved to eventually releasing his legs so that he could encourage Anders to lift and wrap his legs around as a means of holding on while Alaric sank into him.

Stayed slow, controlled, deep, and steady but he let there be no doubt that he was enjoying himself or checking on -praising, touching, murmuring to, sharing emotion and sensation - with Anders, either.

Not being allowed intimacy in the Circle meant what could be found was quick, limited in connection, and with only enough touch and attention as was necessary to get each other off before needing to avoid each other for a day in case anyone caught you. It meant there wasn't time to take. Maybe it wasn't a surprise that his time in the employment of The Pearl taught him the kind of lover he actually was, attentive, slower, precise. All the things a mage couldn't afford to be if they didn't want a life of celibacy the Chantry forced on them.

Most of the time, Anders was at his happiest being able to give all of his attention to his lover, whether he was giving or receiving, all of his efforts were to their end. He was happier, but this, this gentle attention to him and being spread under his lover and lost to their whims...this could destroy him. It was everything he craved and everything he didn't deserve and couldn't bare to take. Take it he did, though and loved and couldn't stand all of it.

In return, the entirety of existence revolved around Alaric: his eyes, his mouth, his hands, the feeling of his lips on Anders' the feeling of those fingers in him, of Alaric sinking deep into him and the control of his hips as they moved together, Anders' legs wrapped around him. Nothing else mattered, not where they were, what was outside their door, what tomorrow might bring, even Justice was lost and forgotten under Alaric's touch and what peace that was. Anders offered everything he could in return between moans and gasps, arches into movement for more and a few cries of Alaric's name that escaped him despite all instincts that told him to stay quiet.

When he came, it was with fists clenched, back arched, and eyes fighting to stay open to see Alaric's face as he clenched around him, lost in flood of feelings that were his but some that weren't. All of it need and want and affection.

He lay panting, his mind still reeling and limbs abuzz, but as soon as he was allowed, he reached for Alaric, wanting to pull him close into the circle of his arms.

He can feel everything from Anders, and is lost.

It feels good - and not because he feels powerful, but because he feels like he's doing exactly what he's meant to be doing, and he's doing it well. What he's meant to be doing, of course, is taking care of Anders. That's just the long and short of it. To take care of Anders, and to make damn sure Anders doesn't have anything to worry about but still gets what he wants, and needs.

It is completely, utterly, perfect.

More pefect even than the physical sensation of Anders around him, and that is saying a lot.

He comes when Anders does, orgasm triggered by both his own physical pleasure and the psychic connection between them. He is all but silent, just exhaling hard, but that doesn't mean his climax isn't intense.

He releases Anders' from restraint in the aftermath, but only moves far enough away to kiss Anders' as he withdraws and then settles down beside him, arm and leg over the other man to provide solid, warm, continued connection.

"YOu are perfect."

He's perfectly breathless and so comfortable. The kiss is met gently, a small act of deep intimacy after what feels like being wring out and emptied of anything that could possibly be wrong. Even if it was only for a few moments, they were the most prized moments Anders could hope for.

Alaric lay beside him and he could feel his heart near-to-bursting with affection. He needed this as much as everything else, this quiet closeness after such intensity. He was delightfully hollowed and all he wanted to do was fill himself up with the look and feel of Alaric beside him. Anders turns and curls into him, his hand searching for his partner's to hold while his breathing finally started to ease.

What Alaric said, though, sent a small spike of self-depreciation through him as well as a matching spike of joy and pride. He wanted it as much as he didn't deserve it, but he let it slide through him and tried to take only the good. "You must not have met yourself, then, because I've not known someone like you. You call me perfect, that must make you flawless."

He threads his fingers through Anders' and gives them a slow, gentle squeeze. He also leans in and slowly, softly, shallowly kisses the other man as his own breathing slows enough to allow it.

But what he says is a wry, dry: "I should have thought of the problems with having the compliment returned before I offered it."

He's warm, affectionate, satisfied, close, but sincere compliments are so, so hard. Charm, fine, but that? That heartfelt? He's no idea what to do with it.

"That will teach you, then." He says it, but he already knows it won't matter.

He will rain praises and adoration on Alaric when the mood takes him, small moments to ensure he knows how often Anders thinks of him, larger ones so he can have a taste of how deep these emotions were already running in such short of time...when he can. When the moments he wishes Alaric weren't with him so that he remained safe didn't overcome his thoughts. When the push from Justice didn't make everything else seem like it had to be secondary or everything would go wrong. He doesn't say it, doesn't dare, but he ca already feel parts of his heart offering themselves to those grey eyes looking back at him. It's been no time at all and he's already lost, no matter Justice's approval.

Duplicity AU: Justice for a General

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