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It’s late and not much is happening at the campsite. The Grey Warden sits alone with his knees drawn up to his chest at the fire. Everyone else except him and his mabari are asleep in their tents. The only sounds he hears are the soft crackling of the fire and Alistair’s loud snoring; one of the main reasons why Cain is sitting out here and not in their shared tent. He’s content for the most part, about to doze off with his bony hand resting on the mabari’s head.
He hears a stick crack behind him and he immediately perks up and twists his body around to look behind him. His alarm quickly goes away upon seeing that it’s only the elf who failed assassinating him several weeks ago and “swore his loyalty” to him afterwards. Cain isn’t sure he fully believes that, but it seems like it’s true for the most part; the Antivan elf hasn’t killed him in his sleep yet. The blood mage sniffs and puts on a disdainful expression despite his heart fluttering slightly and he’s positive that there’s a light flush on his pale cheeks. He hopes the other elf notice it in the dark.
“What, Zevran?” Cain asks, maybe only a tiny bit rudely.
“Hm? Oh, it’s just that you looked so lonely just sitting here with your dog,” Zevran answers, seemingly unruffled by the mage’s attitude towards him. “I thought I could keep you company. Perhaps talk to you for a while?” At Cain’s scrunched up face, Zevran arches an eyebrow. “Or... no?” When Cain still doesn’t reply, the rogue shrugs and is about to turn to walk back to his tent. “Alright, Warden. I’ll leave you alone.”
Cain’s mabari lets out a low rumble, most likely disapproving the blood mage’s pettiness. He shoots the dog a tiny glare before swallowing thickly at Zevran’s retreating figure. “Um. Wait,” the elf calls out weakly, nervously combing a hand through his short black hair. “I don’t care if you stay and talk. To me. I guess.”
He internally curses himself, and refuses to look back up at the other elf. He knows his blush has deepened and traveled all across his cheeks to the tips of his pointy ears. Great. He just hopes it isn’t too noticeable. It’s embarrassing. He hasn’t acted like this since his teenage years at the Circle Tower.
He hears Zevran let out a soft chuckle as he comes back to sit down beside him. “And I thought you hated me.”
“I do,” Cain snorts, still stubbornly pointing his face in the other direction.
“You must be ill then. Your handsome face is just so red.”
The Warden awkwardly coughs. “You should probably get away from me then.”
“Not until you look at me.”
Cain sighs in annoyance and forces himself to look at the other man. He almost jerks away in surprise when he finds the other’s face right in front of his, but his breath hitches at the up-close sight of his beautiful umber eyes. This is it. He doesn’t know why or how this happened, but this is the moment where he finally accepts that he has it hard for this Antivan elf.
“You do know that I’ve always noticed you sneaking glances at me. Even when we’re fighting darkspawn. I hope I’m not too distracting to have along in the party.” Cain’s light blue eyes widen almost comically and he opens his mouth to defend himself, but Zevran cuts him off. “But it seems like you’ve never noticed my sneaky glances. Though it’s mostly been from behind. I must admit your robes fit your form quite well.”
He’s not sure what to say. He blinks a few times before focusing his gaze on the ground. “...Thanks?” Suddenly, a hand lightly touches his chin and tilts his head back up.
“Tell me, have you ever been kissed before?”
Cain furrows his brows at him. He kind of wants to lie and say he has, considerably a lot of people. Though he knows that’s just pointless, and shakes his head. “I have not.”
He’s expecting Zevran to laugh at him or at least have a mocking grin on his face, but he only finds a warm, kind smile. Cain thinks he would enjoy seeing that smile often, and slowly feels himself returning it. “Would you care if I kissed you?” Zevran asks, lightly drawing his thumb over the other man’s soft, pink lips.
“I... I think I would like that.” Shakily, he brings his thin hands up to rest on the sides of Zevran’s face, fingers entangling themselves in long, golden strands of hair. Both elves stare into each other’s eyes for a long second before Cain eventually closes the space between their lips, their noses bumping and smushing against each other.
The kiss isn’t what he always imagined. Since his time in the Circle, he always assumed kisses were wet, gross, and sticky. And this is nothing like that. It’s warm, soft, and Cain just melts right into it. Zevran tilts his head from the uncomfortable position of their noses, and the blood mage wraps both his arms around the assassin’s neck. He tastes fresh and something spicy. Cain wonders what Zevran is tasting from him, nothing too bad he hopes. Something coppery probably.
A disgusted snort sounds from his mabari at all the mushiness and moves to lay down somewhere else. Neither of the elves seem to notice or even care, all their attention focused on each other. Eventually, and unfortunately, they both have to breathe sometime. Cain is the first to break away with a big gasp for breath. His lips are red, glistened with spit. His cheeks and ears are burning, his chest feels light and fluttery, but he feels satisfied seeing that Zevran looks to be feeling the same way he is.
Feeling particularly bold, Cain presses one more quick kiss to the corner of the other man’s mouth, moving away with a subtle grin. Though seeing the other’s cheeky look, he almost immediately regrets it. Almost. “I take it you don’t have a burning hatred for me anymore?” Zevran wiggles his eyebrows.
Cain scowls at him, and scoffs, “What makes you think that?” He crosses his arms over his chest and purses his lips, trying to look haughty. “...I never actually hated you...”
“Oh, I know.”
The blood mage’s lips curl into a smile, and lays his hand on Zevran’s, who just gently grasps it. Cain secretly admires how much more thicker and calloused the other’s hand is than his. It’s covered in different scars and bruises, not unlike his own.
“I want this to last.”
“Me too.”