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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"Logan, don't tease." Anders purred the words like they were talking about something entirely other than waffles. He leaned in to catch Logan in another kiss, deeper and lingering. He grinned as he drew back. "You can't just say things like sourdough waffles to a man who was served plain boiled burnt oats for breakfast."

Logan licked his lips and chuckled, the noise throaty. "Too late." He sounded smug.

He slid his hand down Anders' neck and over his shoulder to splay just below his collarbone, thumb toying with the ties on Anders' tunic. "How about..." he pressed his lips to the corner of Anders' jaw and then kissed down to his chin. "I make you something not burnt." He kissed his throat. "Later."

Anders lifted his chin so there was more of his throat for Logan to kiss, a light hum causing it to vibrate under his lips. "Later? How much later were you thinking, love?" His smile tinged his voice with humor, though it mostly held a breathless affection.

Logan laughed. "I was not...thinking...a specific timeline, darlin'," he murmured, between kisses. He pulled back and pecked Anders on the lips, his eyes bright and happy.

"I thought maybe you had designs." Anders followed the peck, catching Logan's mouth in a warm, lingering kiss. He gently nipped his lower lip as he pulled back, eyes studying Logan through his lashes.

Logan tilted his head and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue over it. He reached out to touch Anders' cheek and ran his other hand down Anders' arm, taking his hand. "Do you want me to have designs?" His voice was warm, just this side of teasing, but there was a sincere look in his blue eyes.

Anders laughed softly and squeezed Logan's hand. "Always. I always want you to have designs, Logan." There was a playful lilt in his voice as he leaned closer. "For eventually, anyway. No pressure for now." He kissed him again, soft and sweet and gentle.

Logan hummed, tilting Anders' face under his palm and kissing him back just as gently. "All right..." he said softly, pulling back just enough to let go of Anders' hand and wrap both arms around his middle in a bear hug. He tugged Anders closer just slightly.

"In that case, we could make this the part where you tell me random facts about yourself, like what the cat you wanted to get would look like, or if you have annoying roommates, or...whatever." Logan smiled crookedly at him.

Anders hummed at the gentle bear-hug and leaned into Logan's chest. He grinned at the questions and kissed the corner of his jaw. "Fat orange tabby, and no roommates, though I'm in a quad, and the people who share the bathroom are disgusting slobs." He nuzzled into Logan's neck. "And at least one of the downstairs kids deals drugs. But no, no roommates of my own."

He trailed his fingers up and down the side of Logan's arm. "What about you? What's your favorite color? Breakfast cereal?"

Logan chuckled at the specificity of 'fat orange tabby,' rubbing his hands up and down Anders' back slowly. He wrinkled his nose a bit at the mention of drug dealing - but then, it was Darktown, and that was pretty much par for the course. Not that he had to like it.

"Blue." He pressed a kiss to the side of Anders' head as he nuzzled into him. "Um, like sky blue. And, hm." He had to think about the cereal. "Life, probably? If we're talking the sugary, only-takes-two-hours-before-you're-hungry-again, sort." He smirked. "Mostly I just eat Raisin Bran, or...not cereal. Eggs. Toast. Depending on how much time I have in the morning."

"What's your favorite season? Movies you like besides Princess Bride?"

Anders hummed softly as Logan stroked his back. "I like fall. Scarf season, you know? And pumpkin flavored everything." He grinned a little. "Movies? Well, I mean, lots of movies. Guiltiest pleasure? Moulin Rouge." He leaned his head on Logan's shoulder, blushing just a tiny bit. "What about you? Guiltiest pleasure movie?"

While he talked his hand traveled to trace the curve of Logan's ear, the slope of his neck, memorizing the details of his skin, his hair, seeing if the light touch tickled or annoyed. This was pretty much Anders' idea of heaven. Well, he could have done with a pizza as well, but this was close.

Logan cocked his head to the side. "Hmm. I bet you look nice in scarves. Goes with the whole... studious professor vibe. That cardigan you were wearing." He nodded, tone light and teasing, but his eyes were warm, considering. He laughed. "Also, that is kind of a depressing movie to have as a guilty favorite, love, I'm just saying."

As Anders' hand brushed lightly over his skin, Logan shifted, alternately pressing into the touch and arching away from it to give Anders' better access. He didn't show any signs of being ticklish, or annoyed, just let out a quiet hum of pleasure while he thought about the question. "Um. All right, so. There's this Norwegian film, one of those like, faux documentaries, right, called Trollhunter. I'm weirdly into it." He shrugged and gave a small, sheepish grin.

Edited Date: 2015-11-09 02:17 am (UTC)

"I knit my own, you know." Anders grinned, blushing a little at the admission, or at the compliment about his studious professor vibe. "Well, I used to, when I had time. I'll make you something." He kissed him lightly on the lips, and then started laughing.

"Trollhunter? I've seen that on Netflix but never watched it. And Moulin Rouge is about true love. It's not depressing. It's... poignant. Beautiful. Tragic sure... but." He hugged himself closer to Logan. "True love isn't depressing."

Logan smiled, leaning into the kiss. "I'd like that."

He smoothed a hand up Anders' spine and into his hair. "A truly underrated classic, Trollhunter." His smile goes lopsided, the twinkle in his clear blue eyes mischievous. "We'll have to watch it sometime."

He grew a little more serious when Anders shifted closer, and tightened his fingers against Anders' back. "No...you're right, I didn't mean true love is depressing, I just..." He wrinkled his nose and sighed. "I just don't really like movies which end with people dying. Or...love and family stories that do, anyways. Epics with heroes dying don't bother me. Just the more personal ones, I guess." He frowned. He hadn't really had to think through the instinctual dislike before, and certainly he'd never tried to explain it.

Anders hummed softly as Logan explained his feelings about tragic romances. He rubbed his cheek against the stubble on Logan's jaw, enjoying the light prickle and drag between them and murmured, "So what do you watch when you need a good cry? If sad love stories aren't your thing?"

Anders should probably admit he was an incurable sap with a real maudlin streak, so the sadder the love story usually, the better, but he didn't want Logan to lose all respect for him at once. He shifted and drew Logan back with him, stretching out on his side on the bed. "I can't imagine it's a sad dog movie. That just seems completely not your thing as well."

Logan blushed a little at the way Anders was rubbing against him a bit like a cat, and how much he liked the rasp of Anders' skin against his stubble. "Um...I guess just anything with Sebastian Stan looking teary-eyed? Political Animals, for instance. Kings. Either of those are a good bet."

He followed Anders down to the bed and dropped his head against Anders' shoulder, wrapping an arm across his middle. "I mean, I don't really watch sad movies when I'm sad. I think I did that with, like, P.S. I Love You one time, and it didn't end well." He cleared his throat, remembering bawling into a large wad of kleenex at 1 a.m. maybe a year after his dad died, trying not to wake up Carver and his Mom. It was not an experience he had wanted to repeat. "And sad dog movies..." he shuddered. "I don't even know why those exist."