bakerstreet | The Mid-Fuck Meme

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The Mid-Fuck Meme

MIDFUCK MEME

♋Respond with your character(s) and put their name and canon in the subject bar. (You can make blank comments with < ! >. Remove the spaces).
♋ Respond to other character(s) with your own as if you are right in the middle of having sex. How did it happen? Who started it? Who is topping who? All that matters is they are in the middle of it.
♋ Want to add some direction and maybe a little kink? Take a spin on the Random Number Generator to give yourself a location. (Change the max from 100 to "10").
♋ Have fun threading out hot sex. Maybe they'll want another go, afterward.~

1. Between These Sheets
It's traditional and cliche, but we all know that beds in these kind of situations can come in handy.~

2. Sex On the Beach
Hot sand, cool water, sunrise or sunset, all you know if you don't care where you might be getting dirty as long as it's fun.

3. On Wheels
Car in a parking lot, truck on the road, motorcycle on the side of the highway, maybe even in the back of a carriage on your way home from the ball. Have fun smutting it up when you should be on the road.

4. There's More Than Hot Water Here
You're pressed against the wall of the shower, clinging to the sides of that bathtub, or maybe even holding on the stairs of that indoor pool. Too bad you'll have to get clean all over again.

5. My Body Is Your Bread
Crucifixes, altars, and confessionals, but this isn't the kind of worship you had in mind. Or is it?

6. Getting Creative With Furniture
Who said beds are the only nice furniture in the house? Couches, walls, tables, desks, any space can fit your needs for the moment. And don't forget the office, too. Just make sure your coworkers don't hear you.

7. Try This On For Size
You're in the changing room, but you're not trying on those clothes when you have enough to take off. Maybe that outfit did really make you look good enough to eat.

8. Shhhhhh, this Is the Good Part
It's dark and the only light is from the silver screen. But you're not paying attention to it so much as the person your came with--or met when you got there.

9. A Quickie Behind the Tree
Aprivate place? Who needs one when you have a forest, or a park, or even an alley right there beside that building. You're outside and you don't care who could walk by.

10. We Have Ways of Making You Scream.
Dark, damp, and maybe even a little musty, but this dungeon is full of surprises. Those chains and whips could come in handy

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh Aveline, he was sorry. Well, all right, not really, but there was a smidgeon of remorse buried there somewhere, the kind that would have him charming her good favor for weeks on end and buying her vases of flowers trimmed with apologetic cards that she... probably wouldn't care for. Hm. Maybe he could purchase her a new desk? A bigger, sturdier, more intimidating desk to enhance her standing within the city guard; yeah, that would smooth over any potential fit she'd have if she happened to walk into her office right about... now. It was her fault anyway. Hawke lolled his tongue with the thought and rolled his eyes in turn, hooking his lips and securing tight as he sunk down, drawing out an undeniably happy hum as he went; maybe next time she'd think twice about calling him to her office and then letting herself become tied up with other business elsewhere, subsequently leaving him alone with a tattooed, exotic beauty he'd only been, oh ya'know, agonizing over for years upon years. A few weeks prior? His strained relationship with Fenris would have kept him honest and well-behaved, but luckily, the old bastard Danarius was dead and as a result, Fenris had found his way back to help pick up the shattered, yet not entirely broken, pieces of their romance. And where did that leave them? Hawke was well on his way to becoming an old man in his still potent youth, but years of resigned abstinence was a lot to make up for and he felt invigorated, younger, less burdened and free with this seemingly insatiable thirst.

In short, sex with Fenris was quickly becoming his favorite thing and he was set on making it happen as frequently as he could. Even in, say, a good friend's private office, with the lock undone, and no conscious idea of how long they had until they were found out. Sounded like a lovely way to spend an afternoon, didn't it?

Hawke wasn't entirely sure the elf shared his upbeat, reckless kind of thinking – he'd certainly tried to rebuff him in the beginning – but... he'd calmed down considerably and upon flicking his gaze upward along the open pans of a tunic to a long, sculpted neck to an soft, panting mouth, well, Hawke was pleased to find that, yes, most of the fight had left those heavy-lidded, drowsy eyes. Smiling shamelessly around the cock sliding on his tongue and prodding, just barely, at his throat, Hawke tightened the seal of his lips and fluttered his lashes as he sucked, slowly, very slowly, pulling back until the curved crown rested inside. He shifted forward with the next bob of his head and bumped closer to the desk, nudging Fenris' already splayed legs further apart, as much as the barely tugged down leggings would allow; he found some sort of humor in the sway of the elf's feet and the way he could feel those bare toes on either side of him, not quite touching the floor. It was sweet for reasons he couldn't put into words. He compensated for his lack of tact with another steady hitch and slide of his mouth, moaning quietly around twisted, lyrium lines and flushed skin. The taste of something salty, almost tangy was teasing his tongue and he only curled it tighter as he caught the head again, lapping at the slit and lavishing it with attention for three, two, one... and he rolled his lips down once more, perfectly content to work Fenris over and over with the type of slow attentiveness their current location didn't call for. But ah well, he doubted Fenris minded any more than he did.

Fenris was clueless as to how the man did this. For years he had wondered and marveled at the dual emotions Hawke stirred inside him, deciding that it was quite the feat to make him go from one extreme to another without so much as a glimpse of fatal repercussions. No matter how badly he caused his temper to flare, Fenris couldn't stay mad, and this particular... situation was no exception. He couldn't keep his hands off of him. All this time wasted away from his arms had done nothing to weaken his feelings for the man, and now that he accepted and wanted himself as his, embracing a life by his side, it became arduous to refuse him anything. A peculiar notion for one who claimed to be above temptations, but Hawke was everything, the beginning and the end, and Fenris was constantly reminded that he couldn't keep his hands off of him. Each gesture was punctuated by a thousand beats of his heart, but this now was fueled by lust, raw need of one another, and Fenris had caved under Hawke's insistent gaze. A brush of his hand here and a purposely wicked whisper there and the elf had found himself slowly welcoming the man's advances, forgetting how to behave.

Aveline would have both of their heads served on silver platters, but for the moment, Fenris only cared for the mouth around his cock, and the promise of his gentle warmth. If the elf was rarely ever submissive, he could let go with Hawke, switching roles as they saw fit, and he couldn't deny enjoying how the man pampered him. His tongue already seemed to know him by heart as it circled his weeping slit, making his cock twitch in painful pleasure. He reached down to find his head, fingers twisted sharp in his hair. It was both a caress and a sign of his enjoyment, his breathing uneven as he struggled to keep his moans muffled. Even now he was tempted to ask the man to stop, and he parted his lips to speak, regretting the decision almost instantly. "Hawke. Will you... c-cease your... nngh." He bit down on his lower lip, not quite able to keep the soft whimper from grating his throat. He didn't want him to cease anything. He could feel his cockhead dribbling, the clear fluid wetting Hawke's tongue as it mingled with his saliva. He started to tremble, toes curling restlessly as his eyes glazed over, a look a pure bliss stuck on his face. They could have waited a few more hours, at least until Hawke coaxed him into sharing his bed, but their need of each other always felt so urgent Fenris lost track of everything else. His embrace had the same effect on him, his kisses and the warmth of his body, even fully clothed, even innocently holding each other... but the mage had a knack to turn him on within seconds, causing his cock to stir into raging erections. "Hawke," he said again, blinking down to catch a glimpse of his shaft slipping out of his gorgeous mouth. He gritted his teeth together, thrusting back and forth with small undulations, and he snaked his legs around him, rubbing his feet against his ass. "I would be... much more inclined to encourage this... fascination of yours if you only allowed me to touch you," he hissed weakly, squirming as if to get closer—the man was a tease and he needed more of him, now, always. Before Aveline barged in.

Edited 2012-11-28 04:34 (UTC)

So maybe that fight hadn't been completely milked out of him yet, but that breathless, hitch to that normally rough baritone was telling on its own and Hawke saw no real reason to cease. Instead, he kept up his pace and rolled his lips, drawing up and down as he saw fit until Fenris was set on making another plea. A compromise actually. He paused at the end of that pointed request and flicked his gaze upward again; his mouth was still delightfully full and while his lips were stretched wide, he found a way to curl the edges and narrow his eyes on something remarkably playful, cheeky even. Of course Fenris couldn't sit back and just enjoy it. No. And of course Hawke wanted slim fingers curling tight or maybe even wet suction on the pressure between his legs, straining against his breeches, but... he rather enjoyed the discomfort of his knees digging into hard slabs and the tug of fists in his hair, leading him as well as simply hanging on for the ride. He would move eventually – because one didn't disobey Fenris without regretting it later – but for the moment...

He shifted and pressed his arms forward, curling one around a trimmed waistline, while the other found a hip, thumb already pushed in against the bone and brushing in kind; he sank lower with the movement and teased the back of his throat, breathing in deeply before swallowing. It wasn't much, just a brief moment of a curling tongue and a narrowing, clench of muscle, and then he slid back, releasing the cock with a moist, languid, almost silent punctuation of pursing lips. He flicked his tongue against his upper lip and then lolled it over the bottom one, only to stretch them wide for a glistening smile; all the while, he drew his hands back with him, trailing them over exposed thighs and gently grazing his nails as he went. So, about that touching him thing. Hawke raised his brows in mock innocence and managed a simple, “You are touching me.” He shifted again and lifted a hand, wrapping a finger, one after the other, around hard skin until he was squeezing tight, running down to the base and then up the full length. “And rather boldly I might add,” He wasn't talking about his hair – though, he did love a good head massage and hair pulling – and instead, he arched his body, curving up into the soles of Fenris' feet. He puffed out a laugh and ducked down, lapping his tongue over the crown, only to trail lower to follow the dip of his palm by lavishing one swirled lyrium scar. He ended midway, pressing his mouth close for a kiss and after a brief moment, he continued, as though there hadn't been a pause, “I didn't know one could foot another's arse, but it's quite enjoyable.” He ran the edge of his smile against the elf's cock and then lifted away enough for his palm to run up once more, pumping the other with easy rhythm as Hawke simply angled his smile upward. “Wiggle your toes for me?”

Edited (forgot to make it tiny. used to things being huge~) 2012-11-28 21:32 (UTC)

This was the perfect example of what both enticed the elf and infuriated him. Hawke was a sodding brazen bitch, but he had just the right amount of charm to get away with it. Fenris wasn't immune to his magnetism and it was a well-known fact, one he often abused, and even if Fenris barked and snarled, he rarely ever truly bit. Not when it came to the man whose affection he fully returned. That didn't keep him from hissing, of course, and he did just so, blurting out the man's name with silent threats laced all around it. "Hawke," and he didn't trust his voice to add anything else. The tone was clear enough on its own despite its husky vibes, and he punctuated the warning with a good smack, pulling at his hair as his foot met one firm butt cheek. No, he wouldn't wiggle his toes for him, but they did of their own volition as the man bathed him from root to tip. The delicious thrills shooting through him had his spine arch and he growled with the motion of his hips, pushing his cock past the eager lips lavishing him. But even a full mouth wouldn't shut the man up and he knew this very well, which prompted him to speak regardless of his poor mental state before Hawke could place another word.

"There is very little I can't do, provided I am given enough motivation," he purred, smacking him again to prove his point. But it wasn't the only one he wanted to make. He parted his legs even wider, sneaking his left ankle up his back and around his waist, reaching his muscled thigh. Hawke still wore more leather than necessary for what they had in mind, but that didn't deter him. Only the man's tongue did, his mouth doing wicked things to his cock that made both his member and his body leap forward, seeking more. He muffled a curse but couldn't keep in the whimper gracing his lips, frustratingly helpless as his shaft leaked profusely. Fasta vass! He would soak his throat very soon if the man kept up with his mind-boggling ministrations, and that gave him enough incentive to move his foot further down to reach the impressive bulge there. Oh, that felt good. Explorative toes mapped the shape of his thick erection and Fenris moaned at the feel of it, salivating in anticipation. He was so hard he knew it must be painful, and his own cock twitched in sympathy, fingers restless in the man's hair. "On the other hand," he began softly, making great efforts to sound as clear as he could despite his panting breath. "I believe myself to be far more skilled in... manual matters." He pressed his foot against Hawke's clothed cock, rubbing up and down in slow motion, a taste of what his hand could do instead.

Fenris wasn't the submissive type. He allowed Hawke free-reign from time to time, but that shred of cooperativeness often evaporated before Hawke could finish the job; instead, there was the struggle, the reminder and then the inevitable retaliation. It was like clockwork. Still, Hawke had expected the hair pulling and the disapproving, spit of his name, but wiggling toes...? There? It was odd to say the least, and he wasn't entirely sure whether the muffled, garbled mess catching in the back of his throat was a laugh or a moan, but he shifted his knees nonetheless and thrust his hips forward, shamelessly pressing into the curled, blunt ends of those toes. It wasn't something to entertain for long though; the touch was fleeting through the heavy layer of leather and the tangle of limbs left something to be desired, so with one last, lingering hum, he drew his mouth away as his free hand found the other's foot. He caught it easily enough and tickled the underside with a wiggle of his fingers, grinning sweetly up at the other as he offered a, “So this is why you don't wear shoes.” The edge of his teeth caught his bottom lip and he bit down to stop the wider stretch of a grin, shaking his head instead as his voice caught on what was definitely a laugh this time. “Cheeky, little things, these toes are.” His touch slid and he grasped said toes, squeezing gently and then tugging, muttering along, “They're my new favorite.” Feature. Though, all of Fenris was his favorite, from his pointed ears, his disapproving stares, the lyrium marks, his calloused hands, his dark, golden skin... ah, yeah, his favorites covered everything.

He clicked his tongue on the thought and with one, final pinch, released his foot. Pushing himself up then, he paid no mind to the mild, though noticeable creak of his knees as he found his full height, instead focusing on cupping a pointed chin, “But shh, before you verbally assault me...” He leaned in and pressed a close-mouthed, very chaste kiss to full lips. Pulling away with a resounding punctuation, Hawke flashed a grin and let go to press his hand to the desk instead, steadying himself as he leaned in closer; he hooked his chin over the elf's shoulder and threw his other arm out, swiping it over the desktop to knock a few miscellaneous items out of the way. He pulled back then and only waiting a beat, just long enough to offer a simple—“You win”—he pressed his hands to Fenris' shoulders and coaxed him down to lay flat. Backing off once more, Hawke only smiled down at the other, as though to reassure him or maybe convince him to play along, and from there, he shrugged a shoulder as he turned; hands found the laces to his breeches and fingers deftly undid each one as he rounded the desk, murmuring as he went, “Or I do. It's difficult to say.” Coming to a pause on the opposite side, Hawke dipped his chin to eye the recline of the elf's neck and the way it edged the overhang, just barely tipping over it to give quite the enjoyable angle. With his leathers now loose on his hips, Hawke pushed them down just so and pulled himself out, only to rub his palm once, twice over flush skin before he leaned closer and over. He kissed the moist, embarrassingly slick head of his cock to the elf's lips and then sighed out a mumbled, “Let's say both.” The smile was still playing at his mouth but with a further lean, he rested his arms to the desk and stretched across the length of that misleadingly compliant body, easily taking Fenris into his mouth again with an eager bob of his head.

Foolish. Very foolish. Aveline could push the door wide open at any given moment and Hawke insisted on teasing the both of them senseless, forever insatiable. Fenris made for a poor judge when he could never seem to get enough of the man, but he had the decency to try and protest, if only in muffled groans. There was little else he could manage as Hawke took pleasure in daring the devil, intent on thoroughly driving him crazy. And it worked. Before he could even cast a glare at his companion, the head of his dripping cock touched his mouth and Fenris welcomed it without a second thought, pursing his lips to smear the fluid all over the crown. It was difficult to navigate through the fog in his mind—to find a good reason to bring this to an end—when the object of his desire tasted better than wine on his tongue. He parted his lips and enveloped the tip in wet warmth, gracing him with slow, insistent suction. A content hum bloomed at the back of his throat and he moaned in sheer appreciation, eagerly taking him farther. Maker, he could never tire of this. The unique musk of his scent was enough to set all his senses on fire, and his mouth playing around him made for dual sensations he could barely handle. He slid one avid hand down the side of Hawke's torso, brushing gently until he reached his head and twisted his fingers around the hair, rubbing his scalp. He looked entirely too wanton for his own good, sprawled on his back and spread wide open for his lover, but the longer it lasted and the less he cared, hips bucking with growing enthusiasm. He wanted more.

It was both his need and his fear of being caught that made him move. After indulging in the taste of his cock for long moments and worshipping the head with painstaking circles of his tongue, he savored the salty-sweet liquid to the last droplet, trembling as he shifted. He eased out of his perfect mouth with clear reluctance, curling his free hand around him. The grip was firm and he held him tight, pulling away with a farewell swirl of his tongue. It was a matter of seconds before he propped himself on his knees, stroking his cock in earnest as he pressed his chest to the man's, and the look he gave him was filled with dangerous intensity. "There is nothing more arousing than your flesh jutting hard and thick for me," he groaned low, dipping down to capture his mouth in a thorough, languorous kiss. The urgency resounding in his moans made it seem like primitive need, and while there was quite a bit of aggressive lust in the way he squeezed him and rolled his tongue around his, Fenris' intentions weren't void of affection. It showed when he let go of him to cup his face with both hands, a gesture he often made when the urge took him to pour out the content of his heart in his ear. He was silent this time, but the caress of his fingers across his cheeks were meaningful, a reminder of his full devotion. It was brief but evocative, and in the next moment he was lurching forward, growling as his cock slid slick along Hawke's. He was growing restless, squirming far more than he even realized, piles of papers and useless baubles crashing down the floor in the wake of his desire. The ghost of a smirk twisted his lips and he pressed his palms against the man's broad chest, gasping for air. "I'm of a mind to make every morning with you last longer... if only to avoid ruining Aveline's property in the future," he whispered in a breath, claiming his mouth all over again as the tip of his cock prodded underneath the man's balls, finding its way between his thighs.

Edited 2012-11-29 03:22 (UTC)

Bribing him to behave with the promise of blissful mornings, one after the other? Very clever, Fenris, Hawke wanted nothing more than a guarantee for lazy wakings and tangled limbs, but there was a problem with that particular bargain. It assumed there was a limit, that Hawke could tire; he was beginning to wonder if this seemingly insatiable thirst for Fenris would ever weaken, after all, he'd had far too many years to try to pick apart his feelings – and he had, if only to make everything hurt less – yet somehow, his affection only seemed to have grown. So now that he actually had Fenris and could kiss him and touch him and be with him whenever he wanted...? He'd be crazy to agree to restrictive conditions. Besides, he'd always liked the challenge of seducing Fenris and coaxing him into undeniably bad situations; watching those pupils dilate, dark cheeks flush and all gentleness flee his touch as the desire took over was pretty damn enjoyable, so Hawke was thinking that, hey, maybe they should do this more often. It was just the right amount of reckless and fun, wasn't it. Fenris? He smiled into the eager press of lips at the thought and drew out a hum, shifting on the balls of his feet to bring his legs in close together. The soft skin of his inner thighs brushed and then squished, catching a portion of that prodding cock and rubbing it in kind. Biting playfully on the fullness of the elf's bottom lip, Hawke exhaled a sigh and shifted closer, standing up straighter, maybe even slightly more on his toes, to slide further along the other's cock, before rolling back on his heels.

“She won't allow us anywhere near her things after this,” Breathless or not – and it certainly was – the playfulness was easily heard in the mumble and he kept up the steady rock of his hips, hitching and grinding on the other with that same infuriatingly slowness as before. “But we have plenty of other friends to terrorize, so your idea has merit.” He'd lost sight of the kiss and succumbed to nothing more than grinning lips and a muffled conversation of words ghosted over the other's mouth; realizing that, he trailed his mouth away with a pointed chuckle and nibbled at the strong line of his jaw as his hands found narrow hips. Stilling the motion of his own body, he instead pulled Fenris forward to compensate, encouraging the other to thrust and push and fuck into the tight clasp of his thighs. “Best to thoroughly, repeatedly, vigorously sate me every morning,” It wouldn't help at all, but he let it go, instead dipping his face down to bump his nose, then his mouth to the arched point of a lyrium scar, lolling his tongue over the very edge of it and then biting down on the unmarred skin just beyond it. His hands moved then, one palm running up over the firm contours of the elf's belly and further still under the useless drape of his tunic, while the other ran around and slid south, flirting over the perfect arch of Fenris' ass. “Now...” He found the crease and hooked a finger, then two, along it, lightly pressing down along the line to push his cheeks apart, barely, just enough for him to feel the slight flex. “When our lovely Aveline walks in on us, would you rather be the one sprawled across her desk or is that to be my honor?”

Edited (I always forget to make it small!) 2012-11-30 18:15 (UTC)

For Aveline to forbid them access to her quarters implicated that she even found out about this, and while the notion wasn't incredibly far-fetched given the position they were in, Fenris was intent on not letting it happen. It shouldn't even have begun, but Hawke had these mesmerizing blue eyes and equally enticing smiles and Fenris had lost the battle at the first flutter of his lashes. Even his humor now had that little charismatic vibe he couldn't resist—no matter how poorly misplaced—and if it grated on the elf's nerves, it also amused him. Unwillingly. Fenris was ridiculously enamored and it was a feat in itself to think that the man had tamed his fury, but despite the brief, devilish grin curling his lips upward, he didn't let the jokes slide by idly. He nipped at the shell of his ear, his name a panting mess on the tip of his tongue, and he bit harder when he reached the lobe, a punishment of sort. It was his way to show his disapproval, but with the brushes of their bodies and his thighs closing in so blissfully tight around him, it was difficult to condemn anything at all. The plan did have merit if it meant more of Hawke—and the prospect of ruining Ander's clinic wasn't quite unpleasant—but in that moment, he wasn't too keen on lecturing the man. There were gentle hands teasing the curve of his arse, delectable lips tasting his skin, and with the mix of his warmth, his breath and his scent, Fenris reached new sensation highs, thrusting hard with his growing need.

"If either of us is found sprawled across anything in this room when Aveline walks in...," he began, arching his back to push against his hand. He loved it when he firmly cupped him, as much as he loved their roles reversed, but he craved the man with fierce abandon now, wanting to be his. He reached back, grasping his hand to encourage the mage to stretch him wider, and with the other he found his cock, giving him a insistent squeeze. "...I will kill you." The threat was empty, of course, but it didn't lack in intensity, a vague smirk capturing the man's lips in urgent passion. His arse clenched at the taste of him and he undulated against his lover, stroking him as he slowly proceeded to pull away. They missed fundamental items to ease the process, but Fenris wasn't necessarily in the mood for smooth. It showed in his quick movements, imprinted with impatient appetite for the beautiful man before him, and he shifted, soon finding himself sitting on the edge of the desk. More papers fell, and his foot hit the chair as he parted his legs, the noise it made causing him to cringe. But it didn't deter him. He gripped both strong shoulders, half-clinging as dainty legs wrapped the man in a tight embrace, pulling him close. The elf's cock prodded his with slick pressure and heads rubbed in a tangle of glistening flesh, making his whole body tend and arch and twitch as if brought to life by the man's mere touch. He allowed his dominance, placing himself between the safety of what he knew were good hands. He only needed to reach up for another kiss, and as his tongue traced the shape of his full lips, he gave a hoarse whisper, an order that gave the mage full reins. "Hurry." And he mewled into his mouth, heart and skin on fire.

Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you... – ha, as though Fenris would ever hurt him, well, beyond a point that Hawke could recover from, because they all knew Hawke needed sense slapped, beaten, clawed into him from time to time, and Fenris was the perfect candidate to distribute the violence. He almost wanted to press his ever strained luck and remind the elf of his words, but then there was shifting, coaxing and grabbing, their bodies loosely interlocking as their mouths bumped. He sighed around the plea – order? – and groaned in turn, briefly indulging in the taste and feel of the other as he rotated his hips to dig in and brush, rolling their cocks together on that lazy thrust. Maker, maybe they should have waited. Feeling Fenris' form bend and open for him to take... – Hawke wanted to suspend this moment in time and make it last, to tease the other until he gave into trembles and pants and sloppy arcs as everything outside of them lost meaning. He didn't want to hurry. Since resuming their romance, Fenris hadn't shown any inkling of leaving, but the tiniest thread of doubt was safeguarded in the back of his mind; silly or not, Hawke wanted to savor everything, if for no other reason than to have the memory to get him through the next however many years should Fenris ever become overwhelmed again. Surprisingly though, Hawke found humor in that line of thinking and muffled the beginnings of a laugh into the eager play of Fenris' mouth; ah well, he started this – foolishly so – and he needed to end it before Fenris, not killed him, but hurt him badly enough that he never again jumped him outside of the privacy of their homes.

His hands found purchase on the edge of the desk and then he leaned, pushing chests and mouths closer together, almost to the point of discomfort, but he only laughed into the kiss, which was quickly becoming nothing more than a messy shove. He let up as soon as Fenris caught the drift and followed with a much softer brush as the elf leaned back to stretch across the desk once more; flicking his tongue, he laved the other's upper lip and then nipped the top edge, smiling brightly as he pulled away and straightened to his full height. Wetting one, two fingers then, he slid his other palm against the widened splay of dark thighs, gripping one and pressing in to hitch it wider, soon finding that tight ring of muscle with a swirl of his damp fingers. He circled once, briefly eluding to his desire to wait, to tease, but the door was still very much unlocked and he supposed he should be reasonable, at least once today. So he hooked the tip and nudged in, sinking slow and deep before wriggling, gently, coaxing pulsing muscle to relax. Drawing out and in, he settled on an idle thrust of his finger and when the seconds stretched thin, he added the next, rubbing each against the tremble and flex, lightly pressing out to widen that narrow clench. To void any discomfort, he would have bided his time and worked Fenris with the same infinite patience he'd always shown him, but the elf was impatient, so he could do little else other than comfort himself on the fact that they'd done this numerous times as of late; it wouldn't be easy, but it would be easier for the other, and he supposed that was good enough for now. Grounding his teeth, he puffed out a breath and slid his fingers out, only to spit into his palm and roll the liquid over the head of his cock. Still very much slick from Fenris' mouth, he added what he could anyway and then curled his fingers, lightly rubbing as he shifted ever closer to bump and smear the mix of saliva and pre-cum against that tight, puckered opening. His lips quirked despite the immediate pitch and tangle of feeling quenching low in his body and skittering down his spine to his twitching cock; he had a joke, of course he had a joke, and with the slightest press of his hips that had him breaching muscle and stretching skin to roll and engulf the steady slid of his cock, he couldn't help murmuring along, “Remember where we are.” His lashes fluttered and it was suddenly a struggle to keep his eyes open against the titillating squeeze, but with an audible swallow, he pushed on. “I fear it will be difficult—“ One inch, two, three and a pause, his breath already hitching to catch in his lungs, making the next mumble strained in a way that was too much for how early it was. “—But you must be quiet.” Because, obviously, Fenris was the one most likely to give them away. Out of the two of them, it wasn't difficult to guess who the loudest was; unable to stop talking, Hawke had some sort of deep, ingrained dislike for silence, so when words failed, he compensated with noises, all with different syllables and pitches. Still, it was fun to warn the other as he slid deeper and deeper into the grip of that pliant, glorious body. “No calling for the Maker or yelling or screaming for m... ore,” He leaned down with the slight stutter of breath and curled his form, pressing his nose to Fenris' collarbone, up his neck and into his hair as their hips finally found each other. He breathed out and moaned, quietly, almost weakly, to the mind-numbing clench of heat and muscle and want rhythmically flexing around him. “We can't... have the guards thinking I'm murdering you in here.” He had the best, romantic bedroom talk. Office talk? He scoffed lightly with the thought and grinned wide, nuzzling back down to a cheek for a well-placed kiss; with that, he waited only a moment or two more, before rolling his hips back and then slowly pressing in for an easy rhythm.

Edited (ROFL GDIT. FORGOT AGAIN!!!) 2012-12-02 21:59 (UTC)

The initial invasion hurt like hell. Fenris bit his knuckle, feeding the pained sound into his own skin. They ran low on comfort, but he wanted the man with such urgency that he didn't care a fig whether it ached. Hawke had the decency to ease his passage, showing a patience Fenris did not share, and he squirmed with every stretch, needing more and less all at once. He couldn't believe this was happening, and Hawke, of course, couldn't resist reminding him. His tongue was wicked and his intentions even naughtier as he served him with sinful humor, and if Fenris thought to bark, he only managed to moan, shuddering as the man's thick cockhead prodded his nether hole. Breath punched out of his lungs, he whined a quiet plea as Hawke breached him, shock and need and desperation making the air thick between them. Oh Maker, this had to be the most perverse thing he'd ever done. In the intimacy of their mutual passion, Fenris showed a libertine side that rarely ever transpired in broad daylight, and while the feral vibes about him made it easier to imagine a wilder elf in bed, nothing could have prepared him for this. Public affection wasn't his forte, yet he found himself discarding his judgment in favor of more promiscuity, as if he needed Hawke as much as he needed his next breath.

He scoffed for good measure, reaching up to slide exploring fingers down the man's shoulder blades. "We have already transgressed every standing rule," he groused, tilting his head to nuzzle into his cheek. "I begin to think this was your plan all along." And he didn't mind, accusatory notes buried under the mewling melody of his voice. There would be plenty of time to fume later on, should they even get caught. He was so full of Hawke now he could think of little else. He keened beneath the man, lost in pleasure-pain. His lover's cock pushed and slid with rough friction, marking him slow and raw. The elf squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, trying to ground himself, to catch his breath, until pure sensations of bliss bloomed in his barely tried passage and made his own cock swell back to its former glory. The ache dulled down to a deep throb and he bucked against him, sinking his teeth into the flesh of his neck to muffle groans he knew he couldn't contain. Toes wiggled along the man's thighs and Fenris cupped the hard muscles of his arse, urging him forward and deeper as his growing cock eagerly twitched for attention. "Garrett," he heaved in a breath; a plea or an order, he didn't know. He was but an undulating mess beneath him, rubbing up against firm skin and welcoming the burn of Hawke's cock inside him, ignoring the stiff surface of the desk hurting his spine. Curse the man—he'd really broken his chains.

Still wiggling his toes for him? He had a smile for each twitch and curl over the tender flesh of his thighs, but for the fingers greedily digging into his arse and forcing him to snap harder on the next thrust? His breath caught and cut on a groan, the steady slap of his hips into the perfect arch of spread legs momentarily falling to the wayside. Just long enough for the desire to spike and to leave him fumbling through his rhythm. Garrett, huh? It usually took an hour or two of thorough teasing and body worshiping for Fenris to forget long enough to remember his name, so it was quite something to hear the oddly, unfamiliar syllables tumbling out now. So swayed on that, he let Fenris lead him. Let him show him how he wanted to be fucked, and he ground with those hands, pushed and pulled and rolled, wanting to feel Fenris' tension tight body try to milk more out of him... but then he was gasping, breathing in the taste and smell of their passion, and if there was ever a moment for Hawke to entertain impatience, it was now. Fenris was all strength and desperation, the heady mixture severing Hawke's gentleness and coaxing awake something heavier, more potent in its intensity. Maker above, what had he gotten himself into?

He smiled with the prickle of skin and nerves however, and skimmed his lips over the elf's cheek once more, flicking his tongue out to taste the slightest hint of sweat. The piston of his thrusts was just as messy, just as broken as before, but then there was a shift and he was pushing himself up, palms sliding down to find Fenris' thighs. Fingers dug in and pressed out, coaxing the elf's body to conform to what he wanted. “My name?” He mumbled through, still rocking into the needy pull of that smaller body as he widened dark thighs, angling Fenris' ass up, just barely, with the curl of his spine as Hawke pushed knees down, presenting the stretch and grip of the elf's body that much more. He straightened up and dipped his chin, for a time finding nothing more entertaining than watching his cock sink in and out of that hole, but then his gaze flickered to the door, wordlessly reminding Fenris of where they were, as though extending a game they'd never agreed to play. “That means one thing,” And with breath short and mind murky, he found some way to pull off a chuckle, panting lips stretching wide to further accentuate his humor. So what did it mean? His hips drew tight and then snapped forward for the point, knocking their bodies together with that unforgiving, bruising sort of force Fenris wanted, but was too proud to say. The angle was quickly losing its appeal however and he abandoned it as quickly as he'd begun it, instead slipping his hands to the elf's hips and dragging that form closer to hitch it up and hold it over the edge of the desk. Suspending the other with nothing more than the steady grip of his hands and the slide of his cock, Hawke wanted to control this, to make Fenris intimately aware of every twitch and bump and drill of sweat slick skin and too tight muscle. Because this was about fucking, not gentleness and sweet kisses and besotted gazes; this was what Fenris wanted and Hawke was intent on letting him lead, if only barely.

Edited (ROFL. I FORGET. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME!!!!!!!) 2012-12-03 23:20 (UTC)

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