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Honestly, Hawke wasn’t sure how to interact with Fenris after the night he left.
The two of them didn’t speak for a month, the longest they had ever gone without talking to one another. Hawke had wanted to give Fenris some space, and Fenris never approached him. One night, Fenris showed up to Wicked Grace, which he had been skipping to avoid Hawke. He greeted Hawke normally. Hawke wasn’t sure how to act, but Fenris acted like it never happened. So, Hawke followed suit.
However. That didn’t solve Hawke’s current crisis. Before, Hawke could reach out and touch Fenris whenever he wanted. Before they were even together, in fact. But now, Hawke wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure how he should treat Fenris, or if he should even touch Fenris at all.
“But isn’t it kind of like leaving him out?” Hawke asked, draping himself across the table. He was at the Hanged Man with Varric, expressing his woes to his closest friend. He fiddled with Varric’s fingers.
“Not if he wants to be left out,” Varric pointed out.
“I guess, but...” Hawke looked away sadly, “I just feel like its mean not to touch him, but its invading his personal space if I do...”
“Since when do you care about personal space?” Varric laughed. Hawke was still fiddling with Varric’s fingers.
“Since I knew it could hurt Fenris if I didn’t,” Hawke pouted.
“How about this,” Varric said, “Why don’t we bring him along with us when we do that job for the Crows. You can talk it out with him then.”
“Last time I tried that he put a hand through my chest,” Hawke said.
“Don’t startle him this time,” Varric replied.
Hawke was silent, stewing in his own thoughts. The thing was, it wasn’t just his interactions with Fenris he was worried about. He had toned down how touchy-feely he was with others when they started dating, but now? Hawke wasn’t even sure if they were still together or not. Fenris just wouldn’t talk to him, and Hawke wasn’t too eager to have a serious talk with him either.
The thing was, he missed touch. He longed to reach out and touch anyone, and since he didn’t know whether he and Fenris were still together, thats exactly what he started to do. He had to get through that month Fenris wouldn’t talk to him somehow, and carding his hands through Isabela’s hair was downright therapeutic.
Logically, he knew he should have that talk with Fenris, talk over what happened that night. But he hated serious conversations, and loathed to start one, even if his current situation made him miserable. Seeing Hawke’s indecision, Varric sighed.
“Okay, I’m making an executive decision,” he declared, “We’re bringing Fenris whether you like it or not. Now go tell him.”
“Can’t you come with me?” Hawke whined, fingers tightening their hold on Varric’s hand.
“No can do,” Varric pulled his hand out of Hawke’s grasp with some difficulty, “Bianca needs to be cleaned.”
___
Hawke stood in front of Fenris’s door for a good twenty minutes before he could work up the nerve to knock. He even debated leaving altogether. People were beginning to stare. With a sweaty fist he knocked on the door, using a rhythm that signified who he was.
“Hawke,” Fenris greeted when he opened the door. Hawke’s hand twitched with the need to reach out and grab his hand, to run his fingers through the other man’s hair, to stroke his face. But, he kept his hands firmly at his side. A glance at his clenched fist told him Fenris had seen his twitch.
“I’ve got a job from the Crows,” Hawke started, fidgeting with the fabric of his robe, “I was hoping you could come. It’ll be you, me, and either Aveline or Isabela, I haven’t decided yet.”
Once he started speaking, the words came out in a rush. Fenris blinked at him with surprise while Hawke nervously bunched his fingers in his robes.
“Of course I’ll come,” Fenris rumbled eventually. Hawke let out a relieved sigh.
“Okay, meet us in two days at the Hanged Man,” Hawke smiled down at Fenris enthusiastically, and even waved at him before the other man shut the door. He felt like an idiot for being so happy about this small thing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he walked through Hightown with a skip in his step.
___
Hawke liked Zevran.
The elf was nice, charming, and most of all, he was just like Hawke. As soon as Hawke agreed to help him, the other man had reached out and clasped Hawke’s hands in joy. Hawke had been startled for a second, but he couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his face.
Hawke and Zevran were getting along swimmingly. Bumping shoulders, brushing fingers, Zevran even feeling Hawke’s hair and exclaiming at how soft it was. Hawke had shyly explained his haircare routine to Zevran, who listened enthusiastically. No one ever cared about his hygiene routines!
The only problem was the dark atmosphere that was practically radiating from Fenris. Hawke was unsure whether it was his fault or not, but the fact that Fenris kept glaring daggers his way meant it probably was. Maybe he didn’t want to come after all?
“Hawke?” Zevran called, tapping on Hawke’s bicep, “You listening?”
“Yeah, sorry,” Hawke tore his gaze away from Fenris, “When did I zone off?”
Zevran shook his head, “You keep looking at that elf, and he keeps glaring at me like he wants to kill me. Are you two an item? Should I back off?”
“I don’t really know, honestly,” Hawke answered, fiddling with Zevran’s pointer finger. Zevran gave an amused smile.
“Which means no, you’re not,” Zevran smirked, “Too bad for him. You’re quite the catch.”
Zevran ran a hand down Hawke’s arm, interlocking their fingers. Hawke was too shocked to speak for a second, heat rising in his face and guilt shooting through him at the same time. If he and Fenris were still together, did this count as cheating?
“Thank you?” Hawke replied awkwardly. Zevran laughed and readjusted his arm so that their arms were entwined.
“Oh, I like you,” Zevran said with a grin. He glanced at something behind Hawke that made his grin grow wider. When Hawke tried to turn around and look, Zevran reached out and gently turned his face back to look at him. Hawke found himself unable to look away.
“Now where were we? Oh, right...”
___
Fenris hated Zevran.
He wanted to tear that man’s heart out. Wanted to rip it out of his chest and watch him die.
“Unless you’d like to get to know each other better, Champion?” Zevran purred flirtatiously. Fenris bristled. It was all he could do to keep from glowing.
“That depends,” he bit out, “How much are you willing to test that luck of yours?”
The reactions to his outburst were varied. Aveline looked at him in surprise. Varric looked impressed, smiling approvingly. Zevran looked more shocked than anything, like he hadn’t expected Fenris to speak up.
And Hawke. His eyes were wide, his face flushed a deep red and his mouth slightly open. Fenris could see a thin sheen of sweat beginning to gather at his forehead, something Hawke tended to do when he was really embarrassed. His eyes darted between Fenris and Zevran, licking his lips nervously.
Hawke was never this embarrassed about physical contact, but over the years Fenris had noticed Hawke was easily embarrassed by words. Fenris felt satisfaction when Zevran backed off.
“Oh, I see. I didn’t know,” Zevran said with his hands up in surrender, though he kept glancing at Hawke.
Fenris didn’t listen to the rest of the conversation. The satisfaction he had felt was slowly melting away to fear. Fear that Hawke wasn’t going to accept him, was mad at him for ruining his chances with Zevran. He needed to talk to Hawke, and Hawke was not going to initiate this conversation.
Now getting Hawke to listen to him without bolting, that was the hard part.
____
Hawke was avoiding Fenris.
After his outburst, he knew Fenris would want to talk. He didn’t want to, not right now. He was too focused on the fact that, apparently, he and Fenris were still together.
His face heated up again at the fact that Fenris had been jealous. Over him! He knew that before, Fenris didn’t like when Anders got too close to him, but he didn’t say anything!
Hawke couldn’t help but feel nervous, though, that Fenris didn’t actually want him back. Maybe he wanted the intimacy back, the constant soothing touches and comforting presence of Hawke by his side. Maybe he didn’t want Hawke, he wanted Hawke’s touch. Or, maybe he hadn’t even wanted that, he just felt residual possessiveness over Hawke and it didn’t mean anything. Or Fenris just didn’t like Zevran.
Hawke couldn’t stop thinking. He was walking very fast, he knew when he got like this his friends tended to have a hard time keeping up with him. Anxiety swirled in his belly at the thought that maybe Fenris didn’t actually want to officially get back together, and once he thought it, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head.
“Hawke!” someone called from behind him, “Damn it, slow down!”
Hawke stopped and turned to look behind him. Fenris was jogging to catch up to him, while Varric looked winded. Aveline stayed back with Varric, giving him a concerned look. Soon enough, Fenris caught up to him. Hawke kind of wanted to turn and run.
“You’re walking too fast,” Fenris said simply. Hawke glanced at Varric and Aveline, who looked tired from having to keep up with Hawke’s fast pace for too long.
Suddenly, there was rumbling. Hawke froze, listening attentively, but Fenris sprung into action. He pushed Hawke out of the way just as the ground above them crumbled, leaving a large mountain of rocks between them and their companions.
“Shit,” Hawke breathed from beneath Fenris. Without really thinking about it, Hawke ghosted his hands over Fenris’s body checking him for injuries. Hawke’s head hurt pretty badly from slamming onto the rocky ground when he fell, but no amount of healing magic was going to heal a headache. He’d tried before.
Fenris rolled off of him, scanning Hawke for injuries. In that moment, there was no awkward tension between them.
“Hawke!” Varric called from the other side, hitting the rocks between them, “Broody! Can you hear me? Are you okay?”
“Fine!” Hawke called back, “Your voice is muffled, but I can hear it. What about you two?”
“We’re fine,” Aveline replied, “But we’re going to have to find a way to meet up again.”
“I think there’s a path over here that will lead us back there,” Hawke was imagining his mental map of the area, “I’m not good at giving directions, Fenris and I will have to go to you.”
“Can you not just move the rocks with magic?” Aveline asked, her voice barely audible. She must not have been yelling.
“No,” Hawke answered, “I’m no force mage, Aveline. We’ll have to just walk to you.”
“Alright, we’ll wait here.”
It was only then that Hawke realized this meant it would just be him and Fenris. Alone. And the man definitely wanted to have some serious talk Hawke certainly wasn’t ready for. Plus his head was pounding. Great.
____
Hawke spent the first hour or so dreading Fenris trying to talk to him about what happened. His hands were sweaty and he felt a pang of anxiety every time he thought about it. Luckily, though, Fenris didn’t say a word, just followed Hawke. A few times, on pure instinct, Hawke had almost reached out to hold Fenris’s hand. Hawke had forced his hands to remain by his side, occupying them by swinging his staff around.
“Hawke-“ Fenris began to say. Hawke froze up, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Actually, he was beginning to feel dizzy. And the sun was too bright in his eyes. Did he have a concussion?
“Fenris, wait a second,” Hawke said, holding up a hand. Fenris tried to protest, but Hawke cut him off.
“How are my pupils?” Hawke asked, trying to angle his head toward the sun. Fenris scrunched up his face, but studied Hawke’s eyes anyways. What he found seemed to make him feel uneasy.
“Uneven,” Fenris replied, “Is that normal?”
“No,” Hawke stopped himself from reaching out to Fenris again, “Probably a concussion. Can healing magic fix concussions? They don’t fix headaches.”
“Isn’t a concussion just a really bad headache?” Fenris asked, looking up at Hawke with concern.
“I don’t know,” Hawke admitted, “Kind of wish Anders was here, now.”
At that, Fenris scowled. Hawke knew he didn’t like Anders, but really? He could be so useful at the moment!
“Why don’t you just try it?” Fenris asked, still looking up at Hawke with concern. Fenris reached out and grabbed Hawke’s fingers, and Hawke froze for a second before making the decision not to pull away. The contact was a nice distraction at the moment, plus it was nice for Fenris to be the one reaching out.
“Okay,” Hawke said, the word feeling thick in his mouth. When he tried to cast his magic, though, he couldn’t quite summon it correctly.
“Ugh, I don’t feel well,” Hawke sat on the ground. Fenris bent down to meet him there, looking even more worried now. He was still clinging to Hawke’s fingers. Hawke closed his eyes.
“Hawke, open your eyes,” Fenris said forcefully. At his command, Hawke pried his eyes back open and immediately wanted to close them again. But he didn’t.
“How did you even hit your head in the first place?” Fenris asked, moving his hand along Hawke’s scalp to find the injury. When he touched the injured spot, Hawke let out a noise of pain. Fenris jerked his hand away.
“You definitely have a bump, a little bit of bleeding,” Fenris said quickly, “We should meet up with the others and get you looked at.”
Hawke didn’t want to stand. Fenris had to haul him up, and after he had to drag half his body weight with him. Hawke’s eyelids were getting heavy, but he didn’t fall asleep because Fenris told him not to. Why did he ever want to avoid Fenris again?
Right. Awkward conversations.
As they approached their friends, Fenris called something out to them. The sound hurt Hawke’s ears. He figured he’d kept his eyes open long enough, and finally leaning all of his body weight onto Fenris, he fell asleep.
____
Hawke woke up in Anders’ Clinic.
His head was still hurting, but not so much anymore. When he tried to get up to move, he noticed a weight on either side of him. One of his hands was being held by Anders, pretty typical for the other man. It was what was on his other side that surprised him. Fenris was half crawled into his bed, sprawled over him and sleeping. Hawke and Fenris hadn’t been this close since he had left that night.
At Hawke’s moving, Anders looked up.
“Oh, good,” Anders smiled at Hawke, “You hit your head pretty bad. Had a concussion, as you suspected. And yes, healing magic can help with a concussion if you know how to use it.”
“Sorry,” Hawke replied sheepishly.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” the other man smiled at him. Then he gestured at Fenris, who was snoring softly onto Hawke’s chest, “I tried to kick him out, actually. Do you know what? He growled at me. What the fuck, right? He wouldn’t leave you at all. Anyways, feel free to wake him up and kick him out if you want. Now that you’re awake, I’m going to go get some sleep.”
Hawke was left debating. Fenris would want to talk. They would have to. He knew they would have to, but he still wanted to avoid it. He wanted everything to go back to how it was without having to say any mushy things to Fenris. He preferred to express himself through touch, not words.
As if on cue, Fenris woke up. He looked confused, before jumping up off Hawke’s chest as if he had been burned.
“You’re awake,” He stated, wiping drool off the side of his face, “I am sorry for that. I didn’t mean to lay on top of you.”
“It’s okay,” Hawke replied, feeling himself beginning to sweat.
“We...” Fenris searched for the right words, “We haven’t talked about what happened that night.”
Hawke forced himself to breathe normally and hoped his face wasn’t red. He thought he was ready for this conversation, but it didn’t look like he was.
“You didn’t want to talk about it,” Hawke replied.
“Maybe at first. I think it’s you who didn’t want to talk about it, though.” Fenris rumbled, trying to look Hawke in the eye. Hawke looked away.
“Fenris...” Hawke began awkwardly, his heart pounding out of his chest, “I don’t know if I should be honest with you here. I know it reminded you of the past and you had to leave. I get it. I don’t blame you.”
“But?” Fenris prompted. Hawke’s heart was pounding. So was his head.
“It’s just...” Hawke bit his lip, “It’s kind of a blow to the self esteem, you know, to think that I reminded you of him. It bothered me. I didn’t want to get back together with you if I can’t touch you.”
“Hawke...” Fenris ran a hand through his hair, “You know it’s not that simple.”
“Of course I know that,” Hawke was getting angry. He felt tears forming in his eyes. Great.
“Look, Fenris, I don’t need sex, okay? I survived before you, I can survive now. But if I can’t touch you without you remembering your... past? I don’t know, Fenris.”
“Hawke, what I’m trying to tell you is that you’re not him. You will never be him. Whatever I remember is involuntary.”
“But it still happens,” Hawke pointed out, “So then what?”
“Hawke, I want to try this again,” Fenris said, “You’re right, we don’t need sex. And you’re not him. I can’t promise I won’t have bad days, but I know you’re different.”
“Even though I’m a mage?” Hawke asked, even though he felt himself on the verge of agreeing. He had to make sure. He didn’t want to feel the way he did the night Fenris left again.
“Even though you’re a mage,” Fenris agreed.
Hawke was silent for a long while before answering. He debated in his head for what felt like forever before finally answering.
“Okay,” he said finally. Fenris immediately leaned in to give Hawke a hug, which he accepted. Soon, though, he gently pushed Fenris away, resting their foreheads together.
“But let’s start slowly, okay?” Hawke asked, a smile beginning to form on his face. Fenris was brought back to that night so long ago, where he had asked the same of Hawke. He broke out into a grin.
“Okay.”