fadewalk | RP: Logan Hawke, Anders (serhealsalot)

The hallways were quiet. The kitchens were quiet. Everything had just been strangely quiet for a while now. Alistair was in socked feet, loose linen pants and a soft unlaced shirt, standing over a small pot of porridge he was cooking... for himself? It was more porridge than even he could eat comfortably, especially considering it was porridge he was making, which no one could eat comfortably.

He rubbed at his forhead. Why did he feel like he was missing something? Well a bigger more something than usual anyway.

He'd have to ask... someone. When he saw... them? Zevran, his brain whispered. How many days has he been gone? He frowned, and looked out the small window slits that ventilated the room, and the question was gone already as he wondered for the thousandth time whether it was morning or night.

It was whatever time it was, but he'd woken up alone in his bed, with a headache from too much wine and his shoes on, feeling despondent. Lonely. Which was fairly usual, all things considered. He stirred again, frowning into the whitish-brownish-greyish paste. "Probably more water," he muttered.

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That sounded wonderful, so the fact that it made Logan feel queasy inside all over again was beyond frustrating. He scrubbed a hand over his curls in the nervous gesture he'd been suppressing as soon as Anders stepped away. Anders was being absolutely perfect about all of his absurd neuroses, and all it did was make Logan feel horribly guilty. Guilt for Anders having to put up with his shit, guilt because he knew without a doubt that Anders deserved way better, just...lots of guilt. Everywhere.

He gave a rolling, shuddery half shake of his head. "I'm. I, um. You need to stop being so perfect," he mumbled. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he added, "I keep having this feeling like at any moment you're going to realize exactly what you're getting yourself into here and then you're just going to back away very quickly, and it's dumb, because I know you, love, I know you're not like that, but I just...I love you so much it kind of scares me. And I don't want to mess it up but I also don't want to hurt you." He struggled for a moment, trying to figure out how better to explain, because that didn't seem to really even cover it, but he ended up staring at Anders' hand, the one that had just been holding his, and feeling strangely bereft and wordless, before he lifted his eyes to Anders' face.

Anders wasn't sure if he were presented with Rowan right now he wouldn't beat that asshole bloody with a shoe. Shake Leandra Hawke and tell her that her son needed her to see him, and not just rely on his strength. The depth of Logan's insecurity was breaking his heart, when he was gorgeous, smart, kind, loyal and giving. Protective.

Wonderful. More than Anders deserved, certainly. He could only try to be remotely worthy.

He had tears in his eyes when Logan looked back up at him, and he blinked hard, glancing away. He nodded a little, settling his own emotions, and smiled at Logan. He held out his hand for him to take, if he wanted. "Give me a few hours. I'm sure I'll find something to be a shit about, and you'll stop thinking I'm perfect."

His eyebrows were entreating when he continued, "I love you, Logan, and I know that isn't enough to make it all better. I'm willing to do the work with you though, if you'll let me."

"Not bloody likely," Logan muttered, taking Anders' hand again when it was offered to him, but instead of lacing their fingers together, he guided Anders' arm to wrap around his waist and then leaned in against his side greedily. Logan kissed his brow and then dropped his forehead against Anders' temple and sighed.

Yeah, so that whole 'feeling less tense immediately when Anders was touching him' thing, that hadn't been a one-off earlier. It was a little bit terrifying how he immediately felt better with Anders' arm around him - he had relied on nobody but himself and occasionally Maelstrom for so long that it felt like a kind of weakness, or at the very least gratuitous. For a moment he warred with dual instincts, the one that said he shouldn't let himself get so reliant as to need this kind of comfort from another person, and the voice in his head that answered back that maybe he deserved to not be the strong one this time.

What he said was, "That sounds good, love."

Anders gave a satisfied sigh as Logan pulled him in and wrapped himself around Anders skinnier body. He nodded into the press of Logan's head against his temple and rubbed comforting circles on his lower back. "I'm glad," he answered softly, not quite able to hide the relief.

There was always the worry that Logan would pull away. Anders didn't have any way to prevent that if he decided this wasn't worth the trouble, or it was too painful to let him in when he was still essentially a stranger, or Anders wasn't giving him what he needed. He wanted to give Logan anything, everything he could, but that all hinged on Logan sharing what he wanted, what he needed.

And Anders had a sneaking suspicion he wasn't great at that. So this, him wrapping them up, warmed the worried jangling of Anders nerves and he nuzzled into Logan.

Logan wrapped an arm around Anders' middle and sighed, feeling more of the tension leave his body with the satisfied noises Anders was making and the way he was nuzzling back into Logan's embrace.

"It's kind of alarming how much better I feel about literally everything when you're touching me," he mumbled, lips brushing against Anders' cheek as he spoke. "Although I should probably stop looking a gift horse in the mouth."

He wrinkled his nose without moving back at all. "You didn't eat enough."

Anders made a tiny, affronted noise. "Are you calling me a horse? Or saying that I'm lying about my age?" He tutted softly, turning his face far enough to kiss Logan's nose before sighing.

"Well, I ate plenty of Alistair's cooking." His stomach, traitor organ that it was, grumbled faintly and he frowned, shifting slightly. "I'm honestly fine. I don't eat much generally. It was plenty."

He didn't really believe that Logan would accept that, but it was true. In a way.

Logan blew out some air between closed lips and didn't deign to give the questions a response, just smirked faintly.

He was already screwing up his face in readiness to object when Anders' stomach growled. "I'm more than aware of your eating habits," he said a bit archly, only half joking. "And they are terrible." He kissed the corner of Anders' mouth to soften the words and then tugged him onwards, keeping himself still basically wrapped around Anders. "Come on. I saw an apple tree outside and what looked like maybe a pear too."

"I eat." Anders voice was a sulky grumble, but he let Logan pull him along. "And I don't really like pears. They're gritty." He squeezed Logan's waist to take the sting out of his grousing.

"Are you going to learn to cook for me, Logan?" he lilted as they moved out into the garden, mouth twisting in a playful smirk.

Logan snickered. "Darlin', I don't need to learn how to cook. I cook just fine." He smirked, guiding them to the apple tree with its low hanging fruit he'd observed before. He wondered if it was mostly untouched because nobody had noticed it yet, or if they just weren't too fond of apples. Heathens, the lot of them, if that was the case, with clearly ripe, perfect apples right there on the branch. He reached up and plucked one, turning it round in his hand before he offered it to Anders.

"Better than just fine, really," he amended, losing the smirk for a softer, almost embarrassed smile. "My mom's a terrible cook, but my dad was great, when he had the time, and what I didn't pick up from him I figured out pretty quickly on my own. So."

Of course Logan knew how to cook. Because he was perfect. Anders gave him a soppy smile combined with an eyeroll as he grabbed the apple and bit into it without inspecting it.

Because somehow he trusted Logan not to hand him an apple with a worm in it.

He chewed, eyes closing for a moment, because the apple was as perfect as Logan was, tart and juicy and crisp-ripe, flavorful in the way it almost impossible to find in store-bought apples. He swallowed and frowned at the piece of fruit. "I feel like this is something from a story and now that I've eaten it I'm going to be trapped in the realm of the evil fairies for all time." He shot Logan a grin and took another bite. "So you'd better eat one too."

After half an apple, which he was enjoying far more than the undercooked, scorched porridge Alistair had shared, he asked, "So, what's your specialty? The dinner you're going to make to really impress me?" His eyes sparkled as he arched an eyebrow at Logan.

Logan grinned at the obvious bliss on Anders' face as he chewed, and took a half step towards another branch to pick his own apple from closer to the main trunk of the tree. He gave a teasing salute before he bit in, and that - yes, definitely they were all heathens, because these apples were fantastic.

He took concentric bites all the way around his apple and considered the question for a moment. "I make pretty good chicken fried steak," he suggested eventually. "Apple pie for dessert, of course." He smirked.

"Farm boy," Anders said with a teasing but decidedly fond note in his voice. "Do you make your crust from scratch too?" He took another bite of his apple, chewing as he watched Logan with bright eyes.

He was definitely feeling better, his mana returning at a better clip, and for all his insistence, he had been very hungry and the apple was helping. "So if you've got dinner and dessert covered, what am I bringing?"

"Um, of course?" Logan actually sounded a little offended at the idea of not making pie crust from scratch. He wrinkled his nose with obvious disdain and sniffed. "Might as well just buy a pie if you're just going to use a pre-made crust . Crust's the most important part, or nearly, anyways."

He shook his head and took several large bites of apple before he could say anything more on the subject. "You mean besides yourself?" The question genuinely seemed to baffle him a bit.

Anders gave Logan an amused look at the grumbling about his suggestion about pre-made crust. The first apple was demolished to the core and then he blinked and blushed at Logan's question.

Besides himself? Like Anders was enough as he was? He shrugged. "Like... wine? Do you like wine? Or beer. I guess beer probably goes better with chicken fried steak?" He chewed on the inside of his lip briefly, giving this hypothetical dinner date entirely too much thought all of a sudden. "What about a board game?" Which he didn't own any of. "I could buy... Bananagrams or something and bring that over?"

Logan took the apple core from Anders' hand and tossed it aside carelessly so it landed somewhere in the bushes nearby, finished his own in a few quick bites and did the same. Turning back, he regarded the blush on Anders' face with obvious delight. "Hmm." He tipped Anders' chin up slightly and kissed him, licking the taste of apple from his lips and humming in approval before he stepped back and picked what was quite possibly the largest apple on the tree. He inspected it briefly before handing it over and picking one more for himself.

"Wine or beer would be fine," he finally said, smiling a self-satisfied sort of smile. "I like both. Ooh, or cider would go well with this particular meal." He chewed for a moment and then added, "But you don't need to buy a board game, love, we have several. And more I think in storage somewhere if we wanted." His brow furrowed slightly as he tried to remember which corner of their storage shed they'd probably stuck that kind of stuff when they'd sold the farm. "Anyways. You could just bring yourself, really, that would be totally okay. You're the most important part."

Anders blushed further into the kiss, the casual way Logan could make every inch of his skin prickle with awareness with a brush of his lips, a small flick of his tongue. Anders was a little dazed when Logan handed him a second apple, and he stared down at it for a moment, listening to him talk.

He turned it over in his hand again, not looking for blemishes, just marveling at how perfect it was.

"The most important part? I'm pretty sure I'm not more important than pie." He gave Logan a small smirk. But it caused a strange, warm tingle, imagining this weird domestic future where he showed up at Logan's apartment with a six-pack of cider, or beer, or whatever, and was cooked dinner, and then they sat on the couch and made out while something terrible was on TV.

Logan suppressed a wider smile, his lips turning up at the corners despite his best attempts to flatten them. He leaned into Anders' side till they were pressed together all over again, letting himself relish the contact, the simple rightness of it.

"Your priorities, while admirable, are still wrong," he declared. "I'm pretty sure boyfriends win out over pie. Although it's my pie, so it might be a close thing." He lifted a brow, teasing, his blue eyes sparkling, and was more than a little impressed with himself that he hadn't stumbled over the word 'boyfriends' even if it had come out soft enough to ruin the rest of his affected arrogance.

"Alright, but is there a specific kind of pie I should watch my back around? Like, pecan? Or peach?" Anders grinned as Logan nearly draped himself over him again. He was a little like one of those giant dogs that seemed to think he was fit for a lap, and Anders loved it. If he leaned too hard Anders would topple, but he somehow didn't think Logan would do that.

He hooked an arm around Logan's waist and polished the apple on the front of his shirt, mouth twitching cheekily.

"Personally, I'm partial to my strawberry rhubarb, but the one you really gotta watch out for is Bethy's cherry pie. God, that pie is to die for, and she absolutely refuses to give me the recipe. She got it from some neighbor back in Lothering after I moved out, and she wouldn't tell me who so I couldn't track them down myself." Logan shook his head and looked mournful. "At this point I think she's just memorized it, because I can't find her notes for it anywhere, and believe me, I have snooped around. There's something extra she puts in it that I can't quite replicate." He pursed his lips in a full-on pout. "It's incredibly frustrating. I think she just likes to torment me."

He brightened enough to add, "My crust is better, though, because it's like a three-generation old recipe from one of my former employers that I've modified myself over the years."

Anders wrinkled his nose slightly. "Cherry pie?" he sounded a little skeptical. "Never was really a fan of all that bright red goo that came out of a can. I'm guessing hers doesn't though, given the look you're giving me right now." He laughed and gave Logan a peck on the cheek.

He squeezed Logan again and then tipped his chin up, looking at the apple tree. "Do you want to pick a few more to take back to the room? Eating nothing but apples isn't a great plan, but if all that's available is that and porridge, I'll take the apples."

Logan just shook his head disapprovingly at Anders at that, though he did chuckle quietly when Anders kissed his cheek.

"We should," he agreed, "because these are delicious. And I'm sure I can find us something better than that porridge later, if there aren't silence-tossing not-templars around to distract me." He frowned faintly, shook his head again at the memory, and considered the tree for a moment before he remembered how long this shirt he was wearing was. "Oh, hang on." He untucked it from his pants and tugged up the front like one would with an apron. "There, makeshift basket."

Anders started picking apples and loading them into Logan's shirt-front-sling, expression pensive for a minute. "So, how close to murder did you come when he silenced me and I fainted like one of those weird little goats that falls over when they're startled?" He gave Logan a sidelong look and a faint smile.

He squeezed Logan's wrist and moved to another bough of the tree to pick more fruit. "I mean, I'm not saying you should've murdered him, but you looked really spooked when I woke up."

"Goats. Heh." Logan gave a wan smile in response, not even able to properly argue against the comparison because really, it was rather apt for how abruptly Anders had gone boneless.

He rolled his neck and took a step after Anders, watching him pick for a moment before he answered. "Took me a bit to figure out it was something he'd done that made you pass out, and not some weird side-effect of your magic. And then...well, I didn't burn a hole in the wall this time? Though I'm not sure what would have happened if he hadn't pointed out my hand was sparking." He frowned down at the shirtful of apples he was holding. "It probably helped that I figured out who he was. If it had been Cullen or some other templar randomly silencing you for trying to help him...I don't know."

Logan wasn't above hurting people who hurt those he cared about, but murder? That scared him. It would be way too easy for him to kill someone, without even meaning to or planning to, with this new magic inside him and the way it seemed tethered to his emotions, his rage. He shuddered.

Anders winced when he realized Logan was answering his question honestly, like Anders thought he really would have killed Alistair. He turned to face Logan and reached up with both hands, framing his jaw. "Hey, Logan, that's not... I shouldn't have said that. I wasn't thinking. You wouldn't have killed anyone."

There was a pile of apples between them, hammocked in Logan's shirt, so Anders couldn't just cleave to him like he wanted, but he pulled him in for a brief kiss. "And as for the sparking, we're going to learn how to control it, right? Between the other me and Alistair to help with templar stuff, we'll figure it out."

Logan exhaled. "Well, I wouldn't have meant to, anyways. But I-- no, you're right." He nuzzled forward into the kiss as best he could with both his hands occupied. "We'll figure it out."

He shifted, lifting the corners of his shirt so the apples all tumbled together, and glanced down at how many Anders had gathered. "I think that's probably enough, don't you?"