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To say that Nathaniel Amell was irritated would be an understatement of epic proportions. Not only had that drunken excuse for a dwarf managed to stagger over and promptly collapse into the shallow pool bordering on their camp, but in what Nathaniel could only assume was some twisted divine retribution inflicted upon him by the Maker, Sten had decided that it was time to interrogate the fledging Warden on his plans for tackling the darkspawn threat. Addressing the Qunari in a manner that he hoped was reassuringly confident; Nathaniel attempted to bring the argument to a head so he could deal with the weeping dwarf flailing about in the fetid pond.
"Sten, while I appreciate your concern, I really don't have time to speak to you right now. Oghren is …"
His voice trailed off as he waved his hand in the general direction of the drunkard in question, struggling to come up with a description of the bizarre flopping movements the dwarf was making. The Qunari didn't even glance behind him, instead continuing to glare with disconcerting intensity.
"Do not attempt to evade the question human, I am still waiting for a satisfactory answer regarding your competency as leader of the Wardens in Ferelden."
Watching the spectacle unfold further it took Nathaniel a moment to respond, staring in dismay as Sandal almost managed to fling himself into the water in an attempt to emulate the dwarf's antics, only to be restrained by his adoptive father at the last moment. Observing from the sidelines, Zevran's usual sultry persona was discarded as he shook with unrestrained laughter, one tanned hand clutched over his stomach. When he finally registered that the large man was actually subtly baiting him with his query, Nathaniel's irritation began to escalate into a simmering anger. Not only had Sten been surly and ungrateful since his release, he was now criticizing the difficult decisions Nathaniel had had to make since he was burdened with the responsibility of dealing with the blight. Concealing his anger by setting his delicate features in an impassive mask, he drawled his response in a sarcastic fashion that he knew would irritate the taciturn warrior.
"You seem to be under the impression that I am somehow obligated to answer your inane questions, kindly abandon such a foolish notion. My purpose is to defeat the blight and restore order to Ferelden, not to bow to the demands of arrogant Qunari."
Slightly elated at the expression that spread across Sten's face, a curious mixture of outrage tinged with respect, the mage nodded once before striding past the man to deal with the farce that was rapidly descending into disaster. With calm efficiency honed through the many confrontations he'd had to deal with since assuming command, Nathaniel rapidly brought the camp back to a state resembling normality. In rapid succession he ordered his hound to drag the sodden dwarf out of the pool, Zevran to stop chuckling like a halfwit and get some firewood prepared to dry Oghren off and Wynne to turn her attention away from lecturing Zevran about the immorality of mocking other's misfortunes and get ready to examine the dwarf to ensure he hadn't choked on his own vomit or something equally delightful. Although slightly surprised that everyone actually did what he asked without excessive complaining, Nathaniel was reasonably sure that some petty incident that no one else would deal with would soon surface, so he resolved to take a moment to himself to relax and read the new treatise on Entropy spells that he had managed to pick up in the Wonders of Thedas the last time the party had visited Denerim.
However, the peaceful evening that the young mage had planned was not to be. Upon unfastening the leather ties of his tent, placed at the furthest edge of the camp to try and wrangle a measure of peace and quiet, Nathaniel was less than pleased to discover his fellow warden sprawled out across his bedroll, taking up almost the entire tent with his considerable bulk. Trying to rein in his fraying temper by focusing on the fact that Alistair was ridiculously cute when he slept, with his normally animate face relaxed it was so very evident that he really did exhibit the regal beauty one would expect of royalty. Of course, one would not expect to see a line of drool running down the face of a potential king, but then Alistair could rarely be relied upon to do what was expected. Brushing some of his wayward chestnut hair out of his eyes, Nathaniel was rather proud that he managed to restrain himself for almost six seconds before leaning over the warrior on his hands and knees so he could batter him about the head with a handy book in an admittedly excessive attempt at waking him. Alistair's eyelids fluttered for a moment before he raised one arm and feebly batted at his infuriated companion to try and halt the terrifying onslaught. The warrior's repeated drowsy protestations of "No…" and "Stop itttt" were so adorable that Nathaniel paused for a moment, paralyzed by the overwhelming urge to ruffle Alistair's coppery blonde hair. Quickly recovering from his bout of distraction he proceeded to express his irritation in a mock severe tone, punctuating each word with a stiff poke on the forehead.
"What. The. Actual. Fuck. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Doing. In. My. Bed?"
Finally succumbing to the likelihood that he would not be getting back to sleep anytime soon, Alistair endured the prodding assault with a wince before opening his eyes to find Nathaniel's warm brown eyes glittering with anger, his finger presented in a threatening manner should the explanation of his actions be unsatisfactory. The thin white cotton of the undershirt he wore to bed was not designed to provide warmth, and with the opening of the tent the cool night air had rushed in to chill Alistair's skin, goosebumps rising along the length of his forearms. Rubbing his arms in an absentminded fashion, he hastily outlined the reasons for his invasion of the other warden's space.
"Oghren decided that he would like to grace my tent with his alcohol-induced vomiting, and since it now smells like those freaky growths we saw in the circle tower I was hoping you wouldn't mind if I just had a little nap in here? I'm on watch later tonight anyway so I won't be bothering you for long…"
He trailed off with what he liked to think of as a charming grin. Nathaniel's acid retort died on his lips as Alistair's smile sparked his frustration into lust, warmth roiling in his groin as he noticed the thin stretch of sunkissed skin exposed as his shirt rode up. He managed to stutter out something resembling "It's not a bother" as he admired the warrior's exquisitely muscled physique, the flimsy fabric leaving very little to the imagination. It was only when he felt his companion's breath ghosting across his forehead that he realised just how close he was to the man, looking up to meet his eyes he knew that his feelings would be painfully evident. What he did not expect was to find was the curious, playful glint in Alistair's eyes, clearly the man was aware of his shameless ogling, but he didn't appear to be put off by it in any way. If anything he looked to be rather eager, half sitting up supported by his hands, the scant few inches between them filled with expectant silence. Even as half a dozen excuses flitted though his mind Nathaniel knew that this was a pivotal moment that could completely redefine their relationship, a chance to consummate the hesitant, flirtatious rapport that had slowly developed between the two since their very first encounter.
Considering that either of them could be killed pretty much any day now, Nathaniel reasoned that he should seize opportunities for happiness whenever they were presented. In fact, his probable imminent death was a slight comfort in the face of the horrific embarrassment he would be forced to bear should he be rejected. Decision made, he closed the distance between them before his resolve could weaken, brushing his lips lightly against the others. Glancing up to meet Alistair's eyes, the blissful unfocused gaze he saw emboldened him to lean further into the kiss, the warrior's warm, firm lips still against his own. A debauched groan escaped Alistair that immediately stiffened his cock, the confines of his robe becoming uncomfortably tight. A large trembling hand came up to gently caress the side of Nathaniel's face, thumb lightly stroking up and down the length of his neck with such sensuality that he could scarcely stop himself from shivering with anticipation. The mage gradually deepened the kiss, shyly pushing his tongue inside Alistair's mouth so that he could introduce the virginal templar to the pleasures of making out. Their tongues lapped and twined together for a few minutes before Nathaniel pulled back with a gasp, the audacity of his actions finally penetrating the fog of lust clouding his mind. Explanations caught in his throat, the brunette warden could only sit in stunned silence as he watched a small, indecipherable smile play across Alistair's lips.
"So, does this mean that you're not mad at me for sleeping in your tent anymore?"
A startled burst of laughter issued forth from the mage, due more to relief than anything else.
"I suppose I can find it in my heart to forgive you. But I may require some sort of compensation in return. I'm sure you understand."
The warrior's eyes shone with barely suppressed mirth, one eyebrow arched in a quizzical manner.
"Ah. What shape might this compensation take? A poor royal bastard such as myself has no funds to speak of."
"I think I know just the thing."
With that Nathaniel moved to lie down alongside the bastard in question, pulling open the ties on either side of his robes as he did so. The stiff viridian cloth fell away to reveal ivory skin over lean muscle, smallclothes straining to contain his sizable erection. Alistair's eyes widened in something akin to wonder as he took in the sight of his near-naked companion, his gaze lingering on the treasure trail of dark brown hair that ran down his toned stomach to disappear into tented white underwear. The templar shifted over to face Nathaniel, raising his hand to cup the mage's elegant jaw, entranced by the soft, smooth texture of the skin. His face sobered as he struggled to explain the circumstances of his inexperience to the other warden.
"Um, so…I've never really. Well, what I'm trying to say is that in the Chantry we didn't have much chance to…You know."
Nathaniel's lips curved into a wicked smile, before he adopted a mock serious expression.
"I'm not sure that I do know. You've never…licked a lamppost in winter?"
Alistair chuckled as his own words were quoted back to him, running his hand through his hair in an unconscious reaction to his awkwardness.
"Don't tease the templar virgin, or he won't give you any cheese the next time you ask."
Nathaniel face softened as he realized that the warrior felt deeply self conscious about his lack of experience with relationships. He reached over to idly stroke Alistair's cheek with one finger, hoping to reassure with his touch.
"I didn't mean to tease you, not yet anyway. I'd understand if you'd like to take it slow, perhaps we could just get back to kissing and see where things go from there? I would like it if you took your clothes off too though; I'm feeling slightly wanton lying here naked while you're still fully dressed."
He nodded in response, sitting up fully so he could remove his shirt, casually tossing it to one corner of the tent, not noticing Nathaniel's slackjawed expression as he took in the unrestricted view of the warrior's impressive musculature, washboard abs dusted with fine blonde hairs. The loose tan pants he wore sat low on his hips, held on only by a cord drawstring. Hands shaking, Alistair fumbled with the knot for a moment before managing to undo it, leaning forward to push the trousers all the way down over athletic legs. Turning back to face his companion, he had barely a moment to process the almost feral look in Nathaniel's eyes before the mage was upon him, eagerly crushing their lips together as he forced a thigh between Alistair's own, grinding their cocks together through the tantalisingly thin smallclothes. He could feel the brunette's hand rubbing over the swell of his ass, jumping slightly as fingers suddenly squeezed the firm mound of his buttock. Deciding to exact revenge he wormed his own hand between their sweat drenched torsos, lightly tickling around the edges of the other's nipple, before tweaking the nub between thumb and forefinger. The resultant squeal made him grin against the mage's mouth; he broke off their passionate kissing to lean down and delicately lick at the hardened nipple, tasting the salty tang of his sweat. With a lusty drawn-out groan, Nathaniel began to increase the tempo of his thrusting, the delicious friction causing liquid warmth to pool in the templar's groin. Recognising the frantic shuddering breaths as a sign that his lover was close to the edge, the junior warden gently pushed his head away from his chest and guided him onto his back, a faintly puzzled look passing over the warrior's face. Answering the unspoken question with a lascivious smile, Nathaniel nudged powerful legs apart to lie in the space between, hands exploring the soft, sensitive skin at the inner thigh. Glancing up, the mage was struck by the anticipatory look that shadowed Alistair's eyes, as what was about to occur dawned on the desirous virgin. He had heard stories of course; tales of sexual conquest that the other templar recruits had almost certainly fabricated to impress their peers, but never in his wildest flights of fancy had he ever entertained the idea that fellow warden would gift him with such a pleasure.
His hands fisted in barely restrained tension as he felt his smallclothes deftly untied, eager cock springing free to slap against his taut stomach with a dull thwap, a small spatter of pre-come matting the dark blonde hair that graced his belly. Long, dextrous fingers wrapped around his shaft with near sinful firmness and began to pump his dick with slow, lazy strokes that had him throwing his head back in ecstasy. A ragged gasp was torn from his throat as the exquisitely moist warmth of Nathaniel's mouth engulfed the head of his cock; wicked tongue mapping the contours with a maddening lack of haste. The mage drew back, full lips barely touching his manhood as he shot Alistair a look of such unabashed debauchery that it brought the blood rushing to the warrior's cheeks in a furious blush. Grinning at the reaction evoked by his salaciousness, the brunette dipped down to nuzzle his lover's low-hanging balls, gently caressing the soft, downy skin before slowly sucking a testicle into his mouth and rolling it about as if it were the sweetest of candies. With skill honed through years of cold nights at the circle tower, Nathaniel drew his companions cock into his throat in one smooth motion, muscles contracting in an insidiously pleasurable rhythm. Losing himself to the rising tide of euphoria rapidly building in his groin, Alistair vocalized his pleasure in a near-scream as the intense surge of orgasm swept over him, the salty warmth of his seed coating the back of the mage's throat.
"Maker's breath, that was amazing!"
Alistair's voice was breathy with afterglow, a decidedly fond expression dawning on his face as he regarded the man to whom he gave his virginity. He raised himself on his hands to meet Nathanial's mouth in a soft brush of lips, accompanied by a faintly tangy taste he presumed was his own cum. The moment was almost perfect, their languid bodies lying entwined, gently caressing each other with feather light touches. That was, until a bitingly sarcastic voice rang out, echoing loudly enough to leave them in no doubt that the sounds of their lovemaking had been overheard.
"Dear me, does this mean that I won't be able to remark upon our dearest templar's lack of experience in the bedroom? Or tent, in this case. Whatever shall I do to occupy my time now?"
A fierce blush that had absolutely nothing to do with pleasure, and everything to do with the fact that Morrigan of all people had just heard him have sex, burned across Alistair's cheeks. He looked to his lover to note a similar expression of utter horror fixed upon Nathaniel's features. Mumbling incoherently, Alistair eventually managed to force out something vaguely resembling words, abject mortification rendering the usually loquacious templar speechless.
"Umm. I suppose I'll just go and take my watch shift now. Perhaps I'll get lucky and a rabid genlock will eviscerate me, then I won't have to deal with that sour-faced excuse for an apostate."
Hastily donning the clothing he has strewn about the tent in his lust-addled haze, Alistair made to leave the cramped confines, eyes downcast as he brooded of the hours of torment he would no doubt have to endure from Morrigan for this. As he reached to unfasten the leather ties of the tent's entrance, a warm hand suddenly clasped his wrist, accompanied by the intoxicating brush of lips against his ear.
"Ignore Morrigan. She's just bitter because her vagina's so unused she has to dust it for cobwebs."
Had not teeth scraped against his earlobe in a wickedly pleasurable manner that made him shiver, Alistair would have burst out laughing at the mage's acidic wit. Instead, he loosened Nathaniel's grip from his arm, before pressing a delicate kiss to the centre of the man's palm. He turned, heart galloping in his chest as he saw the infatuated glow that lit the other warden's face, transforming him from handsome to almost painfully beautiful.
"Would it be alright if I… if I joined you again once I've finished with my shift."
A languid smile slowly spread across Nathaniel's lips before he responded.
"I suppose that would be acceptable. I don't think your debt for commandeering my tent will be paid off for a long time yet. I think you might have to spend, well, all your nights in here from now on."