twoforsurprise | One Short Day In Antiva City

One Short Day In Antiva City

Davrin might have forgotten Lucanis' offer about the tailor, but he had not. Not all of their excursions were for fighting demons or cultists or darkspawn, and eventually Rook was going treasure hunting on the Rivani coast with Taash and Harding. And just them. Quite adamant that only Taash and Harding were needed, in fact.

Andraste preserve them, Rook was apparently becoming interested in matchmaking.

It worked out, though. The timing. Lucanis ever so casually mentions that Davrin promised to assist him in some errands in Antiva and Rook is just so happy they're not at each other's throats that they're told to not take however long they need. Lucanis makes a mental note to pick up something nice for Rook when they're in Antiva City.

Ah, Antiva City. A less beautiful Treviso, Lucanis used to say. That was before the Ossuary, before the occupation, before the blight. Now it's hard to not see everything that's been lost. He doesn't insult Davrin by assuming the man can't keep up with the Crow routes along the rooftops and across ziplines, so much faster than the weaving crowded streets up the hill the city is built on overlooking the harbor the few times they need to duck down to street level.

"Should be right around - ah, there it is," Lucanis declares once they're half way up the hill, the financial district of the city settled between the Palace at the top and the harbor and all the wealth the shipping industry brings. This time when he drops down to the street level it is where they'll stay for the time being, heading to an understated store front with a simple hanging sign that looks like an embroidered rose carved into the wood of it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

"Are you calling me 'old'?" Lucanis replied with a grin, but he still straightened up, stretching his arms above his head for a moment. His back needed it, even if he hated taking his hands off Davrin.

"I suppose that might be better. It isn't like a blanket over dirt is a tempting enough bed to put me to sleep."

Nor was the company one he wanted to sleep through, even if Davrin was also now one of the few people Lucanis even could.

"No roughing it for the Crows?"

He lingers for a moment before hauling himself up to gather the blanket from the large pocket of his satchel, carefully aware from the ginger wort, and sets about making a nice spot in the semi-shade of the trees to recline in, confident the fire was contained enough to not need their attention for the moment. Lucanis may note that, with the blanket moved, the bottle of wine he'd brought clinked slightly in the bag, but he didn't move to retrieve it. No matter his original intentions, seeing demons meant he wasn't going to be touching alcohol for a bit.

When done, he sat on the blanket, gesturing for Lucanis to take his turn resting his head on Davrin's lap.

Honestly if he had suggested breaking out the wine Lucanis would have lightly protested until the tea wore off at least, so they were on the same page about mixing toxins. He had not somehow expected Davrin to turn the tables on him so. He was a little awkward at first with the movement - when was the last time he laid a head in someone's lap? When he was a small child, maybe. Long enough ago that it may as well have happened to someone else.

"Alright?" he finally asked when he'd laid back on Davrin's lap to look up at him, dark hair spread out across the Warden's thighs. Then-

"Our contracts are usually against people, not bears. We can rough it if we need, but that tends to mean terrible inns or flophouses to avoid being noticed. The last time I had a contract to take me into the woods was against an Orlesian nobleman who fancied himself a big game hunter- his camp was larger than the Lighthouse and fully staffed."

It would be impressive indeed to fail at resting on someone's leg, so Davrin just quirks a little smile down at him at the question, fingers already moving to return the favor by brushing through his hair, nails light against his scalp. He wasn't going to press for it, but Davrin was willing to wager he could make the man nap if he really wanted to. But he was enjoying the date too much to just press to make a point.

The story got a laughed out of him- he'd seen the kind of insane 'camping' the rich managed.

"Emmrich almost did the same to poor Harding before Rook stepped in. Shaving mirrors and pounds of books. Then again, maybe you wouldn't be much better. How many knives and coffee pots would you need for a camp out?"

Even though it was his throat, Lucanis couldn't quite manage that same purring sound that Spite did. Still there was a pleased groan at the touch, his eyes sliding shut. And Spite ever so helpfully started making that odd purring sound on his own to fill in, in case it wasn't clear that Lucanis was enjoying himself.

It paused when Lucanis let put a snort of held back laughter, reaching up to pat Davrin's boot - the one he kept a knife in.

"How many knives do you have, hm?"

He scoffed, smile still in place, as Lucanis' called him out, fingers tracing along an ear then down across his throat, as if looing to feel the purr, before wandering back to his hair.

"My knives are completely practical. No stiletto daggers or poison darts."

Lucanis knew he should only feel alarm or worse at someone's hands on his throat, but when Davrin's fingers traced there it sent the same hot and cold rush through him that had nothing to do with upset, like when he gently put his hand on the back of Lucanis' neck. Something to shove into a corner to think about later, or maybe never at all.

The ear touching was much more pleasant to think about, the way it sent a shiver through him.

"Stiletto daggers and poison darts are practical."

"Let's see you dress a deer with those."

It's purely idle banter, and Davrin scoots a little to lie back himself perpendicular to Lucanis, keeping his fingers in his hair. Between the leaves above he can catch the occasional glance of Assan soaring around, bored of his companions and their old bones, but kind enough to stay within range and keep an eye on them. He occasionally dips back to his throat again as they relax, tracing different ways down his chin, cheek, nose, and ears. Mapping.

"Though I guess Spite could use his claws."

It's a peacefulness that Lucanis really isn't used to. That he was told existed but never proved for himself was real. Bellara talked about time bubbles in Arlathan, and he had to wonder if any were made from someone simply wishing so hard that a perfect moment of peace could last forever.

"Is this where I say 'yes, dear' and pretend I'm helpless so you can feel like you can contribute to a meal?"

There's very little he would not say as long as Davrin kept touching him like that, and Lucanis turned his face towards the other man to encourage it even as his eyes were either closed or half-lidded with relaxed pleasure.

"Simple doesn't mean bad."

Lucanis could make meals that incorporated all their tastes and cultures and make it delicious, this he could not deny. Davrin wouldn't pretend he was the superior chef in this or any reality. Yet catching and dressing ones own game was still an art, thank you. But they were still in a- what he had to call- couple's moment, with the Crow's skin soft and warm under his fingertips and the world perfect around them. He had to press it just a bit.

"But agreeing with me by default wouldn't be a terrible habit to pick up."

Lucanis cracked an eye open to look up at Davrin's face, a bemused expression on his own.

"Yes, dear."

He knew simple didn't mean bad. One of his favorite meals to make for himself and his cousin was a pasta dish so simple it was often messed up by others in an attempt to over-complicate it. But he was still going to tease. A couple's moment. It was exhilarating. A whole new dimension to their playful fights.

"Since I am so very helpless at dressing a deer, perhaps you should do that for me, so I can reward the mighty hunter with a hearty meal from it."

His hand came up to brush his fingers against the back of Davrin's searching hands. Just touching because he could.

A small shiver went down his spine- something Lucanis could likely feel- at the idea combined with fingers on his hand. It was nostalgic, for him. Homecoming. The idea of hunting, dressing, and making a meal together. Wardens ate what was rationed out by superiors. Very often a mystery gruel that he had never gotten an answer for. Meals hunted and cooked together was a Dalish thing- family.

He lifted the fingers tracing his own to press a kiss to the knuckles before lowering them back down.

"Don't make promises you don't intend to keep."

Oh, he felt it alright. And perhaps that was what prompted Lucanis to move away from the welcoming comfort of his head against Davrin's lap so he could sit up - to better look into Davrin's eyes, so the Warden could see how very sincere he was about every word. The teasing tone was gone, only bare-faced honesty.

"I would love nothing more than to make a meal from something you have brought me, Cacciatore."

"You- ha."

He ducked his head a little, avoiding those eyes. He couldn't truly hide from the other man, but still deflecting something as he gathered his thoughts. It was a hard thing to voice, how he'd given up what he was meant to be to his clan. Not a First, with his lack of magical talent. But as a provider, someone that kept the family alive. He'd needed more, so he'd left, but that intrinsic role he'd been raised for? He'd managed the role as a Warden, as a body guard and protector. But there was something feral about the offer to provide that he was shy to admit.

So he glanced up as Assan and flying above and refused to fully acknowledge the feeling in his reply.

"Careful, or I'll let your lieutenants know just how soft you are when it comes to a good meal."

Lucanis wondered if this was how he looked, when he was offered something he wanted but had trained himself out of asking for, thought he trained himself out of the wanting even. Since he was already sitting up and leaning over Davrin, he closed that last distance to press a soft kiss against the other man's lips. He wouldn't push, not yet, but he would be brushing up on specific meals made with venison. Just in case.

"Blackmail, hm? What do you demand in return for your silence?"

He gave a considering hum, eyes reopening after the kiss to consider the assassin. The first hunt, the first catch. Davrin wasn't entirely sure where the boundaries were yet. Still, better to try than later sit and wonder if the arrow never fired would have hit the mark.

He placed one hand on his shoulder, gently pushing, encouraging the man to lay back down. But not on his lap again, Davrin ment to follow, hovering over Lucanis if allowed.

"I may have something in mind."

Lucanis was maybe surprisingly docile as Davrin directed him, moving where the Warden showed him to be. The expression of bemused curiosity slowly changed to barely restrained desire, though, as he ended up under Davrin. It was all new territory for Lucanis, but the excitement was far greater than any nerves, his eyes even darker with want as he looked up to Davrin.

"Oh? I'm all ears."

Would it always cause this same shiver down his spine, watching Lucanis bare his literal and metaphorical neck to him? He hoped so. It wasn't something to take for granted, not from any predator and especially not from this one. He tried to press his appreciation into the other man's skin as he kissed up his neck to his ear, lips lingering there for moment to reply, low and heavy, fingers of one hand ghosting lightly over the buttons of his vest. Not opening, but foreshadowing.

"Don't be quiet."

Lucanis bit at his bottom lip to hold back his sounds at first, doing his best to keep his breathing even as Davrin's lips trailed up his neck, along his ear. Pulse quickening, nothing to be done about that, hands going up to Davrin's waist, just wanting something to hold onto.

He needed it. Especially as he felt those steady fingers brushing against the buttons of his vest, the request murmured into his ear. His fingers tightened as they held on to Davrin's shirt.

"Davrin-"

The Warden's name was a gasp on his lips.

"Just like that."

He wasn't going to rush. They might die tomorrow, sure, but it was nice for once to live like there would be one. So while Spite and Assan allowed it, he stretched the moment. There were only four buttons on the vest; he would make them last. He nipped at Lucanis' ear and trailed feather-light kisses along his chin, to then stop with lips hovering a fraction of an inch above the Crow's. Hovering there, he finally undid the first button, then he stilled, fingers resting lightly in the small part undoing the button had created. Waiting to see what that other man's next move would be.

Spite was not interfering... but he was watching, curious as to the goings-on. He had at least seemingly learned his lesson about commentary. At least while Davrin could hear.

That little bit of praise went straight to Lucanis' gut, lower, and he forced his hands to relax enough to spread his fingers along Davrin's flank, to feel the solid muscle of him through the fabric of his shirt. His breathing was coming out rough, nothing to be done about it, far rougher than it really deserved with such light kisses and touches, but - it was all new, and Lucanis thought even if it wasn't he would still be this way with the Warden.

When Davrin paused before continuing on - kept his lips from just quite touching Lucanis', well. Davrin had asked he not be quiet. The whine was a little pathetic, a lot shameless, and Lucanis leaned up to try to close the distance himself if Davrin would let him.

The whine was unexpected and shot straight to his groin, his gasp swallowed by Lucanis rising up to meet him. It was more than a welcome or acceptance, the man was exuding want and Davrin's own heart raced to meet it. His fingers slid quickly up to the next button and fisted momentarily below it as he made himself slow down. To slowly trace Lucanis' lips with his tongue and relax each finger one by one, resisting the urge to simply rip the vest and the shirt beneath it open, to hear what Lucanis sounded like then. That was an idea for another tomorrow.

For today, he shifted as they kissed, moving to kneel between Lucanis' legs, both knees between the other man's, and holding himself up by one hand planted next to his head.

Slow was good, really. It was probably what Lucanis needed far more.

But he still wanted.

Lucanis was a quick study at kissing, opening his mouth to it, urging Davrin on, following his movements He was so hungry for the other man he felt like he would never be satisfied, every carefully teasing touch leaving him desperate for more. He moved when Davrin moved, thighs spread to make space for the warrior between them, one knee brought up to rub against the side of Davrin's hip. The hands grasping at Davrin's side started tugging up that tunic, a little at a time. Slow. Trying to match Davrin's pace even as Lucanis was near ready to beg.

"You don't have to tease, too," he broke the kiss just long enough to murmur, breath notably harsher. In contrast to him, of course, and his own teasing as he still had only half-opened that second button. He would take his time. If Lucanis insisted on ripping Davrin's shirt off, however? Who was he to stand in the way of a Crow's needs.

The accusation actually got a laugh from Lucanis - startled, breathless, bumping his forehead against Davrin's and stealing another playful kiss before he replied.

"But how else can I learn but to copy you, Orsacchiotto?"

But Andraste was Davrin's voice particularly wonderful when his breath got heavier. It didn't matter that Lucanis had seen Davrin almost entirely naked before, had touched him while they were both in the baths at the Lighthouse, it was different now that they'd agreed to this chase. He longed to touch Davrin's bare skin but was also strangely shy about it, too. In the past the shyness had always won out the few times he got that urge, nerves making any potential benefit seem both impossible and not worth it. Now, though - he could have it, and he had denied himself so long he was still struggling to get over those self-imposed hurdles.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject