Work Text:
Hawke Champion of Kirkwall...was not a title befitting himself this week. Hellfire it wasn't a title befitting himself this whole month. He sighed deeply that small motion threatening the structural integrity of his rickety plastic seat, perched atop a wiry metal frame, attached in a long row to several other seats like itself. The chair did not appreciate the weight of his bulky frame and the muscle surrounding it. The seat was clearly made for a man of normal size, which Hawke wasn't.
Hawke was waiting to board his flight in a blindingly lit terminal. People in several states of rest, dress and varying size all milled about the port. Hawke saw what he believed to be a young couple in an aisle across and over from his napping stiffly. He guessed couple because they seemed to know exactly how they liked to lean on one another already familiar with each others height and builds. They folded into each other like a perfect puzzle sat atop unstable ground. the chairs while size worthy were obviously not comfortable for them either. Hawke spotted an old man overly dressed in a three piece suit, clothes wrinkle free, shoes shined, hair slicked back and everything from his hands to tie to pockets were adorned with rings and embellishments. He was a few seats down from Hawke and was so highly strung and alert he could swear the man was hovering an inch off the seat while still managing to bounce a leg irritably. Clearly this man had somewhere to go or he thought he did at least. Hawke glanced up to his face again realizing the man was staring daggers at him. Not noticing he'd fully turned to face the man, Hawke quickly looked away and tried to hold a neutral expression. His seat gave a loud squeak in protest and Hawke couldn't resist a wince.
Maker he was a wreck. He'd been doing everything to distract himself from his current predicament. Simply put Hawke had never flown. He did everything he could to avoid it. Long car trips planned out well in advance of events, bus schedules, train rides, even boats. Hawke even avoided meeting or befriending people outside his city. If only Bethany hadn't set down roots after she left for college. It'd been years since then, Hawke had been forcing one way visits ever since Beth's departure. Insisting they should meet up at the family house for any and all occasions and that Ferelden was after all her childhood home. But then Bethy got engaged.
Being the big brother he was Hawke was quick to demand a meeting after hearing the news. Beth immediately fired back a haughty “stuff it” and many other obscenities demanding Hawke come to HER to meet him. He could remember Carvers chuckles on the other end and frowned at being ganged up on. He insisted if this man was deserving of her love and loved her enough likewise he would have no trouble making the trip to the family home and meeting his soon to be family. Stating he'd be more than happy to support this marriage and help with the wedding and make the trip there if he was a proper gentlemen. Not that Hawke even knew any in the first place himself included. Hawke back then not even thinking of the possibility of a future plane ride was comfortable in his truth that no one was deserving of his little sister. Bethany fuming on the other end suddenly went almost frighteningly chilled and calm. Then with a voice that made Hawke uneasy in its confidence stated. Well be there next week. Hawke was mortified and delighted to find his sisters fiance an absolute prince. With a fitting name to boot. Sebastian what a walking talking perfect cliche with personality and character to boot.
Hawke came back from the memory of his defeat. His hands were trembling with suppressed anxiety. He drew his palm firmly and slowly down his face trying to still the shakes. “Fuck me.”
When his hand fell down to rest in his lap. He noticed someone else had taken the seat directly across from him. A man, an attractive man. He was sitting facing Hawke fully, arms crossed across his chest, legs stretched in front of him. He was tall a head shorter than Hawke but Hawke was of course taller than most. Body tight with muscle but lithe with a small frame. Light brown skin contrasted against white bleached hair. Hawke then noticed white tattoos breaking up patches of skin leading along the lines of his body in an elegant pattern. The man was wearing a simple black t-shirt and tight skinny jeans that stopped halfway up his calves. He funnily enough seemed to have discarded of his shoes temporarily haphazardly under his seat. The tattoos were on his feet as well and disappeared past the hem of his pants still leading up. As if on purpose the man crossed his legs and Hawke marveled at their length and elegance following the movement with his eyes.
What a someone.
He heard a chuckle and saw the man shift to cough awkwardly into a fist. Hawke snapped his eyes up to be met with two rich green ones surrounded by a sharply featured handsome face. Then the situation clicked and Hawke's mind came to several conclusions. The man was very aware of Hawke's staring and had been the one to laugh and then made to cover it with his cough, he probably had crossed his legs on purpose whether to dissuade Hawke's staring or tease him he didn't know, and lastly and most definitely worst Hawke had prefaced all his staring after uttering fuck me upon coming back from his thoughts.
Hawke suddenly felt his face catch fire. “Fuck me.” His eyes shot wide and he pit up a hand disarmingly. “No no I'm sorry I didn't mean-“ From the seat a few down from his he heard the old man he'd been caught staring at mutter some passive aggressive phrases his way. Glancing sideways he saw the glare the man was facing him down with and shot his head down grimacing and running his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time this day. Hawke chanced a glance up at the handsome someone and found that he was totally poker faced looking off through the glass windows.
Hawke sighed relieved and if he'd admit it a little disappointed. At that sound the man slid his eyes back over to him while remaining still and gave him a slight smirk. Then refolded his legs the other way. The man gestured lightly with his chin at the old man and pressed a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. Definitely teasing then.
Hawke was immediately elated he hadn't put this man off or better yet made him wholly uncomfortable with what he was sure was a heated gaze from himself. Hawke had been caught off guard by his own tactlessness and this strangers good looks but two could play at that game.He was bored to death in this terminal and some harmless flirting would help ease his nerves about his impending doom. It was all in good fun.
While he didn't have the effortless grace of this stranger he was confident in his lumberjack like physique earned through many years of toil working on the farm. Hawke leaned back and puffed out his chest laying his arms over the backs of the chairs to his side and smiled in good mirth at the stranger. Aside from a slight twitch at the corner of his lips the man maintained his neutral facade. In response he unfolded his arms and legs, leaning forward slightly and acted as if he was massaging the stiffness out of his legs. Hawke's brows rose at this as he watched for a full minute as the stranger worked at his muscles and then leaned back tucking his hair that had fallen in front of his face back behind a pointed ear. He then returned to sitting casually hands resting on his thighs.
Although Hawke had been effected by that display he was determined to see the game through. Hawke stretched his arms up as if he was loosening his back and released a low chuff. While at the same time flexing, nothing casual about it but still within the made up rules of the game he thought. He then proceeded to shift a hand to the first button of his flannel unbutton it casually a little of his chest hair peeking out from under his collarbone. He scratched at his neck and then leaned forward in his seat resting his elbows atop his knees still showing off his chest hair. The strangers lips drew in a thin line mirth dancing in their eyes while trying to maintain a straight face. Hawke could swear he saw the start of a blush and swelled up proudly. He was then caught off guard by the man leaning back and lifting the hem of their shirt and fanning himself. Hawke stared at the exposed abdomen and found a six pack to rival his own. This man was lean muscle and Hawke couldn't get enough. He glanced up at the mans face and couldn't help a returning smile when he caught sight of another smirk directed at him. Hawke caught up in the game and thoroughly enjoying this mans company leaned back and dropping all pretense of casualty brought his arms up to flex. The stranger couldn't help a small chuckle and covered his mouth. Hawke very pleased with himself then decided to their great amusement and embarrassment to make his pecs dance. The stranger burst into what could only be described as giggles and hastily turned clutching his stomach.
Hawke smug as could be clasped his hands together and shook them up above his head alternating sides in a show of victory. He laughed along with the stranger and just as he made to speak with him an announcement came on overhead signifying they could board their plane now.
“Finally! I’ve had enough of you two!” The old man from earlier came between them shoving his luggage haphazardly and shooting off biting remarks at the two. Hawke was happy to see his partner in crime give a toothy scowl to the man. He gave an approving wink and was met with a small smile. To Hawke's dismay he started gathering his things and slipping on his shoes to make for the plane. Well the fun couldn't last forever he thought. He looked wistfully at the back of the charming stranger. He sighed deeply and stood stretching out his back.
Hawke lifted his luggage and slowly strolled to board. All at once his nervousness came back to him. Hawke gripped the strap of his bag tighter and shoved his other hand in his pocket trying to stop the shakes. He recited his seat to himself over and over in his mind so he'd at least know where to sit as he sensed his mind shutting down. He briefly came to his senses enough to notice his surroundings. He was on the plane. He’d walked onto the plane. Good. His feet moved again as he recited his seat to himself everything a blur. He hefted his bag into an overhang compartment and sat heavily. Not actually sure if his legs brought him to the right seat but too disoriented to check. The engine started up after how long he wasn't sure and Hawke reflexively clutched the armrests and looked down at his feet. He felt like he was in the belly of a dragon, all control he had on the ground gone and his life in anothers' hands. He reflexively shut his eyes as he felt movement.
Oh Maker no this is it. This is how it ends. Hawke could feel a cold sweat coming on and could swear his heart was leaping out of his chest. Just as he was really about to lose it he felt a touch. Hawke looked over at his hand to find another firmly closed over it. Hawke's anxiety was slowing his processing speed but he slowly started unclenching as a few key details made it through. Brown skin. White tattoos. Hawke glanced up, eyes wide.
"Are you alright?" A deep gravelly voice washed over him replacing his negative feelings with good ones.
The stranger from before was holding his hand looking at him with genuine concern, brows furrowed and bow lips pursed. Hawke's heart skipped a beat. It escaped his notice but his whole body started to relax, while at the same time getting wound up again at being so close to the attractive stranger. He immediately took in features he didn't notice before that he could now see up close. Light freckles and blemishes splashed across his skin. Dark eyelashes and eyebrows to contrast his hair. Devilishly handsome smirk. Then he realized he WAS smirking.
At him.
Again.
Hawke started. Be charming he told himself. "Oh! It's you, from before. I was staring again sorry. It'd be a waste of a perfectly handsome elf not to. I just you um...Hawke." At least he was friendly. Good enough.
The stranger chuckled and cut off the starts of a smile with a fake cough into his other hand. He then quirked a brow. "Hawke?"
Hawke smacked his face with his other hand. "Hawke. Is my name. It's nice to meet you...?" He left the question hanging between them.
"Ah Fenris, likewise Hawke." He grinned at Hawke's buffoonery, hopefully finding it charming. His face turned to concern again. "Are you alright? You seemed unsettled earlier. Is it a fear of flying?"
Hawke remembered now he had asked that before when he had started staring at him. "Oh yes, well no. You're right I'm deadly afraid of flying. Take offs and landings are the worst of it though. Usually I can remain pretty calm inbetween if I even manage to stay on the flight during take off. It's been a long time since my last flight I honestly don't know if I can take it this time." Hawke glanced down at their clasped hands again hoping to draw strength from the contact. Fenris glanced down as well blushing slightly. He made no move to pull away and neither did Fenris. Thank the Maker.
"Well luckily the worst of this flights over for you for the time being then. We have already taken off and I doubt the airlines will see fit to turn the plane around. Even for a charming man such as yourself."
Hawke stilled and looked to the man wide eyed. Fenris met his incredulous look with a playful one of his own. He then glanced out the window past him and noticed, yes. They were flying he hadn't even noticed. He looked back to Fenris who was grinning at him. He realized he felt totally calm. Next to this man who was basically a stranger.
"If it helps at all." Fenris glanced down while he said this. "I could continue holding your hand. But you need only ask if you wish me to stop." He finished his statement by looking firmly into Hawke's eyes but loosened his grip on Hawkes hand to give him choice.
That was it. Hawke wanted to get to know this man. This plane ride would not be the duration of their relationship. Hawke entwined his larger fingers with Fenris's slim ones and smiled confidently.
"I'll be needing emotional support the whole flight so I'll just have to borrow this." He lifted their hands between them to show off their connection. "Also I’ll be flying back in a few days if you’re available. There's plenty of hand holding I’ll be needing and these are good hand holding hands trust me.” Hawke knows hes speaking foolishly but Fenris has been fighting to keep a grin off his face the entire time and his endearing smirk is still there. He decides to push his luck farther. “I’m actually flying for a special occasion which I have a plus one for of you’re interested.” Hawke flashes what he hopes is a dashing smile.
Fenris for a moment he swears looks a bit bashful but then pulls a stone cold face devoid of any emotion. “That won’t be needed Hawke.”
Hawke slumps in his seat. He knew this was too good to be true. That HE was too good to be true. He forces a grin anyways to keep things from getting awkward. “Ah that's fine, maybe another time if...” Hawke is stopped by a finger to his lips and looks at Fenris in confusion. He's smirking again and takes his finger away.
“They'll be no need because I'm already invited to the wedding Hawke. Im the best man to the groom.” Fenris looks pleased at the very confused look on Hawke's face.
“How did you...?” Hawke scratches at his beard.
“We are pleased to invite our family and friends to celebrate with us at our wedding. Vael & Hawke” Fenris chuckles at Hawke's bashful look when it dawns on him. “Lucky for me you go by your family name so I could have a bit of fun teasing you. I will be pleased to be your date, though I need no invitation.” Fenris then gives Hawke a look that can only be described as smoldering.
Hawkes heart leaps. “The pleasures all mine.” Hawke’s very proud that, that came out smoothly and he managed to return a smoldering but not equally smoldering look.
Hawke stares at Fenris the rest of the flight as they talk back and forth. Fenris lets him and squeezes his hand reassuringly just as pleased with Hawke’s company.