#nsfw scene in here
Word Count: 3,713
Warning: depression, memories of past trauma, NSFW - mutual masturbation
Weekly updates going forward until the story is finished. Find this fic in its entirety on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423880/chapters/52591321
Realized I forgot to post this here so it’s a bit late!
The next several weeks were exhausting as Kestrel worked to rebuild his body that had wasted away. Although he added weight back, he felt lighter and lighter with each passing day, his burdens sloughing away as his body and mind healed in the bright house surrounded by those that cared for him.
He had a constant companion, normally Dorian and Dalish, but sometimes Alvinius or Taeven. Even Atronis hovered in the background at times, although usually only if Alvinius was near. Kestrel didn’t miss the fleeting touches or warm glances they shared, and he found himself hoping something more would grow between the two. It would be a welcomed, happy ending for those two to fall in love with each other after suffering through their own unrequited love.
***
It took a week before he could bathe himself without Dorian to fret over him, two before he could walk unaided.
Dalish pumped healing magic through him with every small touch, even sharing the bed with him and Dorian to keep a trickle running into him, much to Dorian’s increasing displeasure. They kept their own touches chaste in Dalish’s presence, plus they knew Kestrel didn’t have the strength for anything strenuous.
Even the nightmares seemed to sense his exhaustion and stayed away, although that was likely due to Dorian wrapping his arms around Kestrel each night, allowing him to shelter in his warm embrace, and Dalish holding onto his hand even through sleep.
Warning: depression, memories of past trauma, NSFW - mutual masturbation
Weekly updates going forward until the story is finished. Find this fic in its entirety on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423880/chapters/52591321
Realized I forgot to post this here so it’s a bit late!
The next several weeks were exhausting as Kestrel worked to rebuild his body that had wasted away. Although he added weight back, he felt lighter and lighter with each passing day, his burdens sloughing away as his body and mind healed in the bright house surrounded by those that cared for him.
He had a constant companion, normally Dorian and Dalish, but sometimes Alvinius or Taeven. Even Atronis hovered in the background at times, although usually only if Alvinius was near. Kestrel didn’t miss the fleeting touches or warm glances they shared, and he found himself hoping something more would grow between the two. It would be a welcomed, happy ending for those two to fall in love with each other after suffering through their own unrequited love.
***
It took a week before he could bathe himself without Dorian to fret over him, two before he could walk unaided.
Dalish pumped healing magic through him with every small touch, even sharing the bed with him and Dorian to keep a trickle running into him, much to Dorian’s increasing displeasure. They kept their own touches chaste in Dalish’s presence, plus they knew Kestrel didn’t have the strength for anything strenuous.
Even the nightmares seemed to sense his exhaustion and stayed away, although that was likely due to Dorian wrapping his arms around Kestrel each night, allowing him to shelter in his warm embrace, and Dalish holding onto his hand even through sleep.
Three weeks later, in the crowded house, they all sat around the table as Taeven cooked a savory stew in a pot over the hearth. Tomorrow they’d be parting ways. Alvinius was traveling back to Nessum, and Taeven and Atronis were moving back to Minratheous with Dalish in tow to begin courses at the Circle.
Kestrel’s studied the boy, smiling to himself at the quick, open grin he gave to Atronis during whatever deep conversation they were having. Several nights ago, Dalish and Dorian were having a similar conversation. From his position in bed, Kestrel watched them discuss what to expect as a First Year at the Minrathous Circle, heads bowed together in front of the hearth.
As the conversation progressed well into the night, Dalish’s reluctance to leave was eroded by an eagerness to learn, and Dorian didn’t hesitate to sponsor him, impressed with the boy’s untrained healing magic. With Kestrel’s approval to seal the deal, Dalish trembled with barely contained excitement every time he had a chance to pepper Dorian with more questions. Or Atronis. Probably what they were discussing now.
A bowl of stew was placed in front of Kestrel, and the savory, familiar scent pulled him from the memory. “Venison stew?” he asked, eyes wide.
“Someone may have mentioned it was your favorite,” Taeven said with a grin, eyes darting over to Dorian.
“And you have plenty of deer in the woods around your house. It was easy to shoot one down,” Alvinius chimed in.
Kestrel didn’t miss the nervous glance Dorian sent his way, wondering if he’d be upset by the mention of archery, but he only smiled. He was thankful for all that he had now. Even if he’d lost an arm and was just a normal elf again, nothing would make him regret what got him here.
Not to be ignored, Atronis grumbled, “Well, I helped with the vegetables.”
“Yes, and you did such a good job with it,” Alvinius said, rubbing his arm.
“I helped too!” said Dalish.
Atronis smiled and ruffled his shaggy blonde hair. “You’re a good helper, kid.”
Kestrel was filled with such love for those at the table, even Atronis. Life was too short to carry his grudge forever. Plus, the punch to Atronis’ face likely helped past transgressions be forgiven.
Feeling the need to voice his affection, he said through eyes bright with unshed tears, “Thank you all. For everything.” He raised his wooden cup in a toast. “To getting here, despite the odds.”
Everyone chimed in and clinked wood on wood before taking a drink.
They sat around the table until the hearth fire simmered and several empty bottles of wine sat forgotten on the table, chatting about the future.
Alvinius and Atronis left leaning heavily on one another, Alvinius whispering with a naughty smirk on his face while Atronis blushed. Alvinius’ pleased chuckle echoed down the hallway as they departed.
Taeven retired shortly thereafter to his own room while Dalish tailed Kestrel and Dorian to their’s. Once ready for bed, they all piled in together. Kestrel knew this was his last night with Dalish in a while, and held him close. Even Dorian didn’t complain about the boy sharing their bed that night as they all fell asleep together.
***
The next morning, after all of their visitors had departed in a flurry of tears from everyone, Dorian and Kestrel were left with a silent household. Loneliness gnawed at him without Dalish at his side, without hearing Taeven making his rounds to light the household candles and pull open the curtains, without Alvinius’ loud laugh and Atronis’ deep voice.
With a soft sigh, Kestrel turned his head to gaze upon Dorian still asleep. Still, even with an empty house, didn’t he have everything he dreamed of right in front of him? His eyes traced Dorian’s features, soften with sleep. Dorian slept completely naked. He thought celebrating having the house to themselves with nudity would cheer Kestrel up. He wasn’t wrong. Dorian’s muscular figure was still a feast for his eyes.
Still, even over Dorian’s gorgeous body, Kestrel loved Dorian’s unkempt appearance the most. His polished, flawless daytime looks always turned heads, but his appearance became a wall to hide behind. No, when his hair was in disarray, and his mustache was unfurled, that’s when Dorian was truly perfect. Very few people got to see Dorian with his facade lowered, and Kestrel was special enough to be one of those few.
This was the man he was going to marry. Suddenly, their marriage couldn’t happen soon enough. He longed to see his wedding band on Dorian’s finger, claiming him as his own, silver against his golden skin, standing apart and marking him.
Dorian’s eyes fluttered open, catching him in mid-thought. “Mm…like what you see?” he said, voice deep with sleep.
“Always,ma vhenan .” Kestrel brushed a few strands of Dorian’s silky hair off his forehead. “I’m ready.”
Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Ready for…?”
“To get married.”
“Oh?” Dorian sounded pleased, scooting closer. “What were you thinking?”
“A…wedding?”
“Oh,amatus , I love that you’ve still managed to maintain some of your naivety. Weddings can be as grand as the Empress’ ball at the Winter Palace.”
“When my Clan did a bonding ceremony, it was a small gathering of those that knew the couple. Nothing fancy.”
“But this is Tevinter, amatus . We can make our wedding bigger!”
Kestrel’s gaze dropped. “Do you even think people would come to our wedding?”
“You still don’t realize how much you’re loved, do you, Kes? People would fill up the entire Winter Palace to see you again, never mind watch you get married.”
“But I haven’t kept in touch with anyone since…” A wave of horror and embarrassment washed over Kestrel. “And Sera! She has no idea…!”
Dorian smirked. “Oh, she knows. And she’s quite pissed at you for leaving her out of everything, including your faked death. She made that quite clear in her last letter.”
Kestrel groaned and thudded his forehead against Dorian’s chest. “She’s going to murder me.”
“Not if we get married in a big castle with lots of guests! She’ll have no opportunity to.”
Kestrel frowned. “You mean Skyhold?”
“Of course! We can invite our friends from the Inquisition and get married in the courtyard where we shared our first kiss.”
Dorian looked at him with the most pleased smile Kestrel had ever seen him wear and he couldn’t refuse, even if the thought of standing before so many people again twisted his stomach into knots. “Sounds lovely, ma vhenan.”
“What about Dalish and Taeven? Think they’d be able to make it? They’re the only family we have left,” Kestrel whispered. Dalish was like a younger brother or son to him, and Taeven was definitely a father figure to Dorian. It felt right to have them present.
Dorian tensed beneath his touch, and Kestrel realized they’d never discussed Dorian killing his own mother. Every moment had been focused on Kestrel’s health, and Kestrel felt horrible for neglecting Dorian’s own trauma.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry it ended the way it did. With your mother, Dorian. I wish there’d been another option.”
“Me too, amatus , me too.” Dorian inhaled deeply, Kestrel’s head rising with the movement and falling with the exhale. “As for your question, I’m not sure Dalish could spare that much time away from the Circle, especially in his first year. Taeven also has the Minrathous house to run and the countryside manor. A trip to Skyhold will take weeks upon weeks away, and I’m not sure he’d be able to leave for that long.” Noticing Kestrel’s deepening frown, he quickly added, “But I will ask him. Now, how soon would you like to be wed to me?”
“If we leave tomorrow, we can be there in several weeks,” Kestrel said in all seriousness.
Dorian laughed, hearty and happy, chest becoming a precarious place for Kestrel’s head.
Sitting up, Kestrel frowned down at Dorian. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because, you are so terribly precious,” Dorian said as his laughter quieted. He watched Kestrel with his beautiful gray eyes, edges still crinkled with humor. “Can you give me a few weeks’ time to make the arrangements?”
Kestrel blushed. Tomorrow? Where’d that come from? He still needed the ring from Taeven for Dorian. He’d received word it was ready, but it was too precious to travel by messenger. Taeven wanted to bring it himself. “Yes, in a few week’s time, then,” he said, nodding his head.
A weird expression crossed Dorian’s face, one Kestrel couldn’t quite place. “What’s that look for?”
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
Kestrel’s eyes dropped to Dorian’s lips. “So what’s stopping you?”
“I don’t want to push you too far too fast. You’re too…accommodating sometimes, Kes, and I’m worried you won’t tell me ‘no’ even if you’re not ready.”
They’d shared many kisses since the move to the house, but they were always soft, hesitant things, and now Kestrel knew why. “Oh…” Another topic they’d yet to discuss. “Well, I’m fine, Dorian. There’s no need to worry about…that.” To prove it, Kestrel suddenly kissed Dorian before he could protest.
Dorian hesitated for a moment until Kestrel’s tongue flicked over his lips, begging entrance. After that, Dorian couldn’t resist, and his body rose up to meet Kestrel’s, chests pressed together as his hands grabbed at Kestrel’s bare back.
Kestrel sucked on Dorian’s tongue, pulling a needy whimper from the man and sending his nails digging into the scarred skin of Kestrel’s back before dragging down. Although they didn’t pierce his flesh, the scored lines reminded him of Morven’s violent whippings after everything had gone numb. Normally, Kestrel loved the feel of Dorian’s nails, and he tried to focus on the memory of pleasure, pushing the lingering torment aside.
Still distracted, Kestrel squeaked when hands cupped his ass and pulled him on top of Dorian. His legs settled naturally to either side of Dorian’s hips as they parted for air, lips still hovering close.
“Kaffas , I’ve missed you,” Dorian said softly before lowering his mouth to Kestrel’s collar bone, planting a string of kisses there.
Enjoying the flurry of kisses, Kestrel buried his hand in Dorian’s hair and held him close. He could do this. He could grant Dorian whatever he desired even if his own body didn’t feel up to responding. That wasn’t asking too much, right?
Not liking his attention elsewhere, Dorian bit into his shoulder in reprimand.
The whimper that left Kestrel was laced with fear. The feel of teeth on his skin reminded him too much of the dragon tearing into his flesh.
Dorian didn’t sense the change in his tone, because his teeth dug in again, marking and possessive. Normally, Kestrel enjoyed their rougher play, but now it only quickened his breath and caused him to freeze.
Dorian’s hands slid slow, pressing Kestrel’s hips down against his hard cock. His hands shifted around and squeezed Kestrel’s ass cheeks, spreading for his cock to rub in between.
Panic seized him and his body started to tremble. Dorian’s hands were bigger than Harrier’s, but the demanding fondling was too much too soon. This is what he wanted! He argued against his body’s reaction, but he couldn’t persuade it to cooperate, or at the very least, tolerate Dorian’s questing.
“No!” he blurted out. Suddenly his body was free to move and all of that frozen energy exploded into action. He yanked himself from Dorian and tumbled back onto his side of the bed, eyes wide and breath rapid.
In the next moment, he sprang off the bed as Dorian reached for him, hand grabbing air. “I-I need some air,” he mumbled, grabbing one of Dorian’s robes and fleeing the room. Dorian didn’t chase after him.
***
For the next several weeks, Dorian was soft smiles and light touches, never asking for more and never touching on the subject of that night. Kestrel knew Dorian knew exactly what had happened. He’d pushed too far, and Kestrel had let it go too far, both ignoring his growing discomfort. Exactly what Dorian feared would happen.
Still, Dorian blessedly acted like Kestrel shooting out of bed at the thought of sex was normal. Instead, he shifted their conversations towards their upcoming wedding. What decorations did he want? What did he want to wear? What about their vows? Dorian promised he take care of everything, all Kestrel needed to plan was what he wanted to say that day when they exchanged rings.
What could he possibly say to the man that had given him his purpose in life? He held the silver band in his hand as he pondered that question, turning it over and over between his palm and thumb. At least Taeven had been able to bring by the wedding band. He handed it over with tears in his eyes, sad he couldn’t travel with them, but so pleased that they were finally getting married.
A serpent coiled around the band, etched out of its delicate surface with a care and precision Kestrel had never seen except in the design around his own ring. A small diamond was embedded for the snake’s eye, catching the light. It was perfect. Not as flashy as most of the rings Dorian wore, but more precious than all of them combined.
Kestrel packed it in a secure spot in his luggage, ready for the trip to Skyhold.
***
Kestrel was not ready for the trip to Skyhold, especially the journey across the Waking Sea. Dorian spent the several day journey seasick, swinging between bouts of cursing everything in his sight and heaving into a bucket in their room. Kestrel was a bit green himself but directed his energy towards caring for Dorian and ensuring he was never too dehydrated.
At one point, delirious and sweating from dry heaving for hours, Dorian said, “If I die here, know that I’ve willed all of the Pavus fortune and estates to your name, Kes. You will want for nothing.”
“What? But Taeven would be a better inheritor than me!” Kestrel protested.
Dorian groaned and bowed heavily over the bucket in response, ending that conversation.
Always dramatic, Dorian may have felt like he wasn’t going to survive, but they both landed on the far shore in Fereldan alive and thankful.
Kestrel vowed to bring up the inheritance topic again once they’d had time to recover.
***
Unfortunately, that time never happened. News of their arrival traveled faster than they did and their journey the rest of the way to Skyhold was surrounded by crowds of people looking for the Herald of Andraste who had once saved them. By the time the gray fortress was spotted on the horizon, a painful headache plagued Kestrel, conjured by dark thoughts.
The last time he’d been here, he’d been whole. He’d been a better person. He’d been a leader; someone for the people to look up to. Now he was a branded man with more scars than unmarred flesh, both physically and mentally. Thank the Creators for Dorian’s recommendation of a carriage instead of traveling by horseback. It gave Kestrel a curtain to hide behind.
Dorian tried to ease the pounding of his head, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs over Kestrel’s hand held between his, but nothing could quell the reminder of inadequacy that surrounded him like the high, impenetrable walls of Skyhold.
When their carriage pulled through the gates, more familiar faces swarmed close, closing in on Kestrel. He couldn’t face them, not right now. He was not the man he was back then, kind and happy and playful. He was a shell of Inquisitor Lavellan, buried under the secrets and trauma that had occurred until there was barely anything left. He couldn’t let the people, and even worse, his friends, see how far he’d fallen.
As soon as their carriage jerked to a halt and the door was opened for them, Kestrel panicked. He stealthed and blindly barreled out of the carriage, following the familiar path up the stone stairs, into the keep, threw open his door, and darted up to his old room, the Inquisitor’s room. It sat exactly as he’d left it.
He’d expected it to be changed somehow. Surely, in the last two years someone had needed to re-purpose his water basin or borrow a book, but even the stack of papers he’d left out before the trip to Halamshiral sat unevenly stacked with a dried quill resting on top.
Kestrel ran his fingers over the wooden surface of his desk, remembering many long nights spent sitting behind it and several passionate moments spent on top of it or bending over it. Someone had at least been in to dust and tidy, but they’d left everything as they found it. It was a time capsule, reminding him of what he’d accomplished and how different he was from the elf that saved Thedas.
His eyes snagged on the scarred skin of his forearm, the pale peacock feather burned into his flesh a stark contrast to the rest of his tanned arm. What was he doing here? He should’ve never come back. Let the people remember him for who he was, rather than be disappointed with who he is now.
Kestrel sneered in disgust, stalking towards the balcony, through the Dalish motif glass door left open to air out the room. Skyhold, summer or not, always carried a chill in the air. His balcony faced the blustery west, mountain wind cutting right through his thin tunic and leggings.
Cold gripped his nose and cheeks, turning them pink, and still Kestrel stood out on the balcony, overlooking everything he’d forfeited. It was a mistake to come back here.
“Here you are! I’ve been looking–Kes?” called a soft voice behind him.
Kestrel didn’t want the reassurance Dorian likely had to offer, so he ignored him until his steps indicated he’d turned and left.
Crumbling against the banister, Kestrel slid to his knees, face buried in his arm as he sobbed.
A warm blanket enveloped him, draped over his shoulders, and pooling on the ground.
“I didn’t think about how hard it might be to come back here. I’m sorry, Kes,” Dorian said, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Kestrel’s back through the heavy blanket. “I think you’ve punished yourself enough for the time being. How about a bit of a reward for making it here in one piece?”
Kestrel sniffled, stubbornly keeping his face hidden in his arm.
“I promise your enjoyment.”
Kestrel could hear the smirk in his voice. Curiosity won out over self-pity and he turned his head enough to look at Dorian.
“There you are.” Dorian ran his fingers through Kestrel’s hair, a pleased smile on his face. “The reward won’t do out here. How about you come to bed?”
Night had snuck in and the chill in the air had turned dangerous. Kestrel didn’t realize how frozen he was until he tried to rise, body stiff and slow to respond.
“Maker’s breath, amatus ,” Dorian chastised as Kestrel stumbled and he quickly reacted to catch him. “How long have you been out here?”
Not long enough if he could still feel everything, disappointment included.
Dorian helped him over to the bed before turning back around and closing the doors. With a wave of his hand, the fireplace lit and started a battle against the chill hovering in the room. “Can’t say I miss the cold of this place.”
Kestrel huddled under the blanket.
“Now, off with your clothes,” Dorian said, shrugging off the decorative robe he wore over his shirt and pants.
Kestrel flushed, eyeing Dorian warily. Just what did he have planned?
“I promised your enjoyment, but your clothes need to be off for that to happen. Do you need help removing them…?” Dorian’s eyebrow arched toward his hairline, questioning.
Kestrel’s blush deepened, but he met Dorian’s gaze with defiance. He dropped his cocoon of warmth and pulled off his shirt with one yank. Next, he shimmied out of his leggings, hesitating at his smallclothes.
Sensing his reluctance, Dorian said softly, “You can leave those on.”
Wrapping his arm around his bare torso, Kestrel stood at the foot of the bed, tense and uncertain.
“Lie on your stomach,” Dorian said, walking beside the bed to open up the bedside table. He removed a vial of oil, the contents sloshing slowly as he rolled the tube between his fingers.
Doing as ordered, Kestrel lay face down on the bed, turning his head to track Dorian’s movements. As soon as Dorian opened the drawer and withdrew the oil, his gut clenching with apprehension. Did Dorian really plan on fucking him right now? If he thought about, it had been several months since they’d been reunited with no sex. Aside from their time apart, that had to be the longest they’d ever gone. He couldn’t keep holding out on Dorian. Even if he wasn’t sure he’d be able to enjoy it, at least Dorian could. Trying to look pleased, Kestrel reached for his smallclothes.
“Leave those on,” Dorian said nonchalantly as he set down the tube.
Confused but obedient, Kestrel let his hand fall to his side, as he watched Dorian remove his rings one-by-one and placed them on the bedside stand, gray eyes fixated on Kestrel.
When Kestrel’s ring was on Dorian’s finger, would he leave it on all the time, or take it off with the rest? He hoped it stay on all the time, forever marking him as Kestrel’s. That thought made him blush, the possessiveness shifting his nerves into a low-key arousal instead.
“I always know when your thoughts turn naughty, Kes. Your blush gives you away.”
Kestrel felt the warmth in his cheeks spread to the tips of his ears.
“Still, it doesn’t matter what untoward thoughts are running through your mind right now, we won’t be doing that tonight,” Dorian said, picking up the oil again. He removed the stopper and dribbled a bit of its contents along Kestrel’s back.
The oil was warmed, likely magicked that way. It slid along Kestrel’s back unaided with the smallest squirm.
“Are you okay with me straddling your hips, amatus?”
Kestrel snorted. “Of course.” Except they both knew his bravado was false. He couldn’t keep the tension from his shoulders as Dorian slowly moved into place. Dorian sat at the small of Kestrel’s back, thighs pressed against his sides.
“Let me know if anything makes you uncomfortable,” Dorian said and waited for acknowledgement before commencing.
His first touch was firm and deliberate, palms pressing into Kestrel shoulder blades. Dorian’s thumbs dug into the muscle framing the bone, catching on the knots wound tight with tension. The model of patience, Dorian focused on each tight bundle, taking as much time was needed to loosen each one before moving on to the next. Warmth seeped from his hands, soothing away any lingering tension.
Kestrel couldn’t deny the appreciative groan that left his lips when Dorian worked out one particularly stubborn kink in the area between his neck and shoulder. His arousal deepened with each firm touch, cock hard and trapped between him and the mattress. Another knot dissolved and other soft noise also worked itself out.
Kestrel could only imagine the way Dorian’s muscles were coiled with the strength needed to push all the tension out of his back, skin shining and slippery with oil. The next moan that left him had shifted into something more primal, more desperate.
He wasn’t the only one feeling the shift in mood, because unless Dorian had sprouted a third hand, something entirely different was pressing against his lower back.
“Dorian…” he groaned into the bed.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” Dorian whispered reverently. He must not have meant to say that out loud, because he quickly covered it up with a jest. “Some might call me jealous.”
Kestrel felt Dorian climb off of him, sorry for the loss of the familiar weight pressing against him, and quickly propped himself up on his arm to find him again.
Dorian had only moved a respectful distance away to the edge of the bed, loose pants tented against his eager cock. Finding Kestrel staring at him, he canted his head to the side and said, “I’m sorry, Kes. Touching you gets me all worked up. Maker’s breath, and those noises you make.”
Kestrel couldn’t keep Dorian suffering because he couldn’t commit to sex again. Not yet. As much as his body wanted to, his mind refused to let him enjoy any sexual touches, but that didn’t mean Dorian had to suffer. Maybe there was a way.
“I want…I want to see it,” Kestrel said softly, almost too embarrassed to ask.
Dorian’s eyes widen a small fraction before he readily stood and undid the tie to his pants. Released, they slid down his legs and he stepped out of them, keeping his eyes on Kestrel.
Dorian’s cock was magnificent but mistreated, head purple with the desire for release but denied repeatedly. Precum beaded on the tip, and for a brief moment, Kestrel imagined closing the gap and licking it right off. Perhaps he could give a blow job without losing his erection. Perhaps not. He hadn’t been able to sustain an erection since his rape, and he wasn’t willing to gamble spoiling the mood, or the tension that hung in the air between them.
Kestrel shifted on to his side, exposing his matching erection and offered a hesitant smile when Dorian’s gaze jumped down to it and back up to his, questioning.
“What’s next?” Dorian asked.
“I want to watch you jerk yourself off.” Would he agree?
Dorian closed his eyes, brow furrowed, and Kestrel worried he’d disappointed Dorian.
“You really have no idea do you? How fucking desirable you are?” Dorian opened his eyes, but they were heavy with lust. His hand took hold of his cock, and still slicked with oil, stroked once, twice. “I’ll wait forever for you, amatus .” He kept their gazes locked while he fucked into his fist.
Kestrel swallowed hard, watching the scene before him. Without even realizing what he was doing, he took his own cock in his hand and started stroking.
“Mmm…yes, Kes. You look even better touching yourself.”
Kestrel flushed under the praise and continued with a renewed vigor. Honestly, he was happy his cock hadn’t betrayed him yet.
Dorian’s hand slipped beneath his shirt and the thought of him toying with his nipple, of that nub of flesh growing hard under his touch, pushed Kestrel closer to the edge. The familiar sensation of being near climax tightened his gut, the need for release growing.
“You’re doing great, amatus . I’m so close.”
Kestrel rolled onto his back and paused his jerking off to run his hand down his chest in an open invitation.
Dorian groaned and climbed up on the bed, kneeling next to Kestrel.
Watching Dorian’s hand pump up and down his hard length, pace quickening, Kestrel’s hand attempted to match his own pace, almost like it was his hand getting Dorian off.
Dorian’s balls tightened and contracted a moment before he cried out, cumming. Several strings of his cum arced through the air and landed on Kestrel’s chest, while one went a bit off course and landed on Kestrel’s cheek. It was a lot of cum. Dorian had been denying himself.
To think that Dorian would wait for him, even in his own release, warmed Kestrel more than his own arousal. This man truly loved him, and he didn’t doubt for a moment Dorian’s words when he said he’d wait forever. He needed to overcome his trauma so he could stand beside Dorian with his head held high.
Dorian sat back on his feet with a slow, satisfied grin. “Come for me, Kes,” he said, voice begging more than demanding.
Surely that was the least he could do for Dorian, right?
Kestrel looked down at the cum draped along his chest. He’d made Dorian come undone without even touching him. That thought carried him to climax, and like a wave breaking through a wall, he came undone. With a long groan, streaks of cum decorated his chest, his spunk mingling with Dorian’s.
The feeling of relief at being able to climax for the first time since his trauma was heady. Kestrel beamed at Dorian, unable to restrain his pride, and Dorian was right there to reward him with a deep kiss. When they finally separated, Dorian plopped down next to Kestrel, thumb brushing the line of cum on Kestrel’s cheek.
Kestrel turned back on his side and snuggled close to Dorian, disregarding the mess on his chest.
Dorian kissed the top of his head and murmured, “You’re going to be okay, Kes.”
For the first time, Kestrel actually believed him.
