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we rise, and fall, and light from dying embers
remembrances that hope and love last longer,
and love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love;
cannot be killed or swept aside.
- Lin Manuel Miranda
Fenris's laughter rings like music through Hawke's bedroom, and Hawkes smile feels permanent, etched onto his face, as though nothing will ever hurt them again. It will. He can pretend, though; it is easy to, right then, as Fenris ducks his head into the rumpled blankets and the pillow and tries to stifle his laughter. He doesn't. He can't.
Hawke is glad.
Fenris doesn't laugh enough. Neither of them has opportunity to laugh enough.
Hawke sucks in a breath and continues to recount the story he's telling, the one that's gotten them to this point, curled into each other in bed, Fenris thumbing tears away from his eyes as Hawke speaks.
Fenris's half stifled snicker turns to a snort that startles both of them. A half second later, and Hawke is the one laughing at him, as Fenris presses his hand over his own nose and mouth, face gone red for embarrassment, for lack of oxygen.
"Hawke. Hawke! Stop!" Fenris swats at Hawke's shoulder, and then kicks at his calf with bare feet when Hawke only laughs harder. "Hawke, I- need to breathe!"
"I'm not the one- I'm not the one who snorted!" Now Hawke is the one who can't breathe, tears prickling his eyes.
"Stop," Fenris gasps, and giggles into Hawke's shoulder.
Hawke isn't sure how he is supposed to relent - he can barely even talk now, and he is not even doing anything save holding him close and laughing - but he turns his gaze from the elf, looking at the ceiling instead, and tries to focus on breathing.
Fenris breathes in, and out, and squirms onto his back on the bed next to Hawke, as his laughter dries out and silence, save their heavy breathing, crawls into the room. It is not uncomfortable. It is light and warm and cheerful. Hawke reaches to pull Fenris over, and Fenris grumbles and huffs and pushes his hair out of his face, tucking it behind a blush-pink ear, and settles his head on Hawke's chest.
Fenris is warm and soft in his arms, and Hawke wants to hold him forever.
Like this, no one can touch them.
Hawke nudges back into his story after their breathing has evened and Fenris has relaxed against his body, a little smile still on his lips. "But what if he hadn't done that? Could you imagine?"
Fenris almost chokes over the laugh, and Hawke drags his fingers through his hair and chuckles as Fenris's body is again wracked with glee, with humour, with happiness.
The whole world is alright.
Hawke can pretend, and for once, it doesn't seem so far from the truth.
He kisses the top of Fenris's head, and hides his smile in his hair.