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“Oh come on Blondie, it could be worse.” Varric said placatingly, the effect somewhat ruined by the clear amusement in his voice.
“The old Anders wouldn’t have been this hesitant.” Isabela mourned with a pout.
“The ‘old Anders’ had no sense of shame or pride.” grumbled the mage in question.
Isabela guffawed. “What good are either of those? I’ve never had a use for them.”
“Clearly.” both men said together with playful frankness. Isabela rolled her eyes with a grin but otherwise didn’t comment
“Well look at it this way Blondie.” Varric added as an aside to the mage, getting back to business. “You owe the Carta half as much gold and they want your ears for it. All things considered I think Rivaini is being very lenient, at least she’s letting you keep your clothes on.”
”You have a point.” Anders muttered dejectedly.
“Oh damn! Why didn’t I think of that!?” Moaned the pirate despairingly.
“No! No, don’t even think about it! It’s too late Isabela, we both agreed on this! There is no going back!” Anders pleaded, his tone clearly panicked, his eyes darting to Varric’s in an expression of silent pleading.
Varric sighed and made a show of looking exaggeratedly disappointed. “He’s right Rivaini, no changing the deal on him now.”
“Fine.” Isabela sighed. “No more stalling then in that case, Sweet Thing.” she said to Anders with a wicked grin.
“Does it really have to be him?” Anders begged piteously, making his final plea for mercy.
“Oh most definitely. “ Isabela purred, her dark eyes glittering with glee.
“Get to it then.” Varric added, making a shooing motion with his hands.
Anders gave them a scathing look so like an affronted cat that both rogues chortled amusedly. “You are terrible people. I hate you both” he vowed.
Slouching grumpily Anders turned to leave, but paused to turn back almost instantly to address them once more. “For the record, I will hold you both responsible for any and all self righteous retribution he exacts.” he growled with bitter amusement. “and if he tries to throw me to the bloody templars I will expect a most expeditious rescue or so help me I will murder you both.”
They merely grinned at him in response, Varric winking as he put his hands to either side of his mouth and called out loudly. “Your attention please, everyone!” he cried, clapping his hands together once to make sure that all eyes where on him. “Blondie here has some entertainment for us!” Already Anders was certain that this would mean nothing good for him, with great effort he slapped on what he hoped was an easy and charming smile as he turned to face the others and Varric continued.
“A dance!” the dwarf exclaimed “Learned in Fereldan from Chasind barbarians!” there was an appreciative murmur from the small crowd and an honest to goodness squeal of delight from a tipsy Merrill. “But he’ll need a partner as I understand...” There was a dramatic pause, during which Varric was no doubt making a show of choosing this mysterious partner despite knowing full bloody well who it would be. “Choir Boy, you’re sober, would you mind terribly?”
Please, oh please, oh please say no, Anders chanted in his head but he immediately knew it was a no go. Sebastian almost instantly flashed him a somewhat sheepish smile and nodded, rising from his seat to face the mage. Anders swallowed thickly as music started behind him, making him jump. He whipped around to glare at Varric who was taking up a spicy tune from Antiva on a dwarf sized lute. Anders mouthed the words ‘I hate you’ with as much fervor as he could muster before turning back to the others with his false charm renewed.
“What do I need to do?” Sebastian asked innocently, looking eager and intrigued. Poor sod.
“Um... er it’s pretty simple.” Anders muttered, looking away from those azure eyes lest he die of sheer mortification. “Just uh... follow my lead and you’ll be fine.”
He situated the prince so that he was standing just a pace away from the wall opposite the others, facing them. “Just stand there for now.” He directed before stepping in front of the other man. He spread his legs a little wider than shoulder width and squatted, his hands on his knees and rear brushing lightly against the silvery scales of Sebastian’s armored coat. He thought he might have heard the prince gasp but he hadn’t the wherewithal to question or confirm this, his mind too busy playing out all the scenarios in which the chantry brother was likely to destroy him.
“Bend forward just a hair there, Sebastian.” Anders directed again, surprised at how calm he managed to sound. “Now place your hands on my shoulders, that’s right, now hold on...” and please don’t murder me... he thought pleadingly as the prince complied with his instructions. He took a deep breath as he attuned himself with the energetic music, waiting for an appropriate note to begin on and trying his best to block out Isabela’s gleeful giggles. There simply was no avoiding this then, no more stalling, it was time to plunge the proverbial dagger into his own gut.
With near perfect control and synchronization Anders began his dance, his rear popping back against Sebastian’s groin, the archer’s armor jingling softly, before his hips snapped forward again an instant later. A swift rhythm was taken up and his audience gasped with shock, including Sebastian for certain this time. He was going to die, he was sure of it, an entire Exalted March just for him, and he was still so young!
Yet even after a dozen such vulgar thrusts, shining armor still tinkling with perverse merriment, no one had stopped him. Not even the prince! In fact Sebastian’s grip had tightened almost bruisingly on the mage’s shoulders while a steady stream of prayers began to pour from the his lips, begging for strength and forgiveness in softly muttered tones, growing more desperate and fervent with each repetition.
Before him Aveline, Donnic, and Fenris all sat together on one end of the table, their expressions hilariously identical, all with wide eyes and mouths agape. Beside Fenris was Hawke himself sniggering madly into his tankard while Merrill bounced gleefully to the music beside him. Isabela was leaning on the table near Merrill, doubled over with silent laughter and clutching a stitch in her side as Varric continued to play his lute with a fierce grin. All of them where transfixed and none of them seemed inclined to stop him.
For some reason this reaction emboldened Anders, his old flirtatious self resurfacing. He brought his hands up off his knees and clasped them together in front of himself, his arms extended fully. He took advantage of this new, but slightly more awkward, freedom to add further ‘bounce’ to his performance. The gasps from the crowd renewed, along with a quiet groan from Sebastian, and Anders could not have suppressed his mischievous smirk if he’d wanted to.
Suddenly the pace of the music increased and with a bark of laughter Anders rose to the challenge, rear end bouncing and hips thrusting in perfect time to the frantic tune. This proved to be just too much for the Starkhaven prince however, after a few short seconds of this Sebastian finally snapped. He loosed a most pitiful whimper, and it was all the warning the mage got before he was thrown bodily against the wall behind them.
‘Oh shit, this is it! I’m going to be murdered!’ he thought frantically before the prince was upon him. He flinched instinctively, expecting a blow, his eyes squeezing shut with fear only to fly open again in surprise an instant later. No knee to his groin, no fist to his face, not even a dagger in his gut or an arrow to the throat, only a desperate and hungry mouth on his.
Strong but shaking fingers clutched at red-gold hair, an eager tongue plunging between his shock parted lips. Oh and strike that, a knee to his groin indeed but not at all in the manner he had expected. A muscled thigh slid between his legs, pushing them apart and pressing upwards against his crotch, while a suspicious and highly intriguing bulge pressed against his hip.
All of this happened so quickly that Anders didn’t have time to question, only to react, and his contact starved body had decided it was not going to argue with the equally repressed prince pinning him to the wall. His arms wrapped about Sebastian of their own volition, fingers clutching at enameled armor and hips grinding slowly as he returned the kiss with all the desperation he was being shown in kind.
Eventually he became aware of the fact that he still needed to breath, badly. His lungs burned, but he was beyond reluctant to pull away lest it break whatever strange spell Sebastian was under. He was spared the embarrassment of fainting from lack of air however, when the prince pulled away himself, gasping for breath like a man half drowned.
Anders watched hesitantly as Sebastian’s eyes slowly slid open to meet his, and what he saw there took his breath away all over again. Black pupils had all but eclipsed their bright blue irises, serving as dark windows to a very hungry soul full of yearning, a soul so perfectly mirroring his own at the moment as to be profound.
A shrill wolf whistle interrupted their brief soul searching however, causing Sebastian to startle guiltily. He flushed crimson as he spun to face their audience who all had disturbingly similar smirks of amusement Anders noticed. Well all except Merrill who was still bouncing gleefully with a bright smile on her face.
“Ooh it’s about time!” She cooed delightedly, clapping her hands together in her excitement. “Looks like you loose though, Isabela. They still have pants.” Isabela sighed theatrically as she tossed a pair of gold coins to the Dalish elf, who caught them deftly.
“Wait just a moment, what’s ‘about time’? What the bloody void is going on here!” Anders demanded, his hackles rising under the eeriness of his friend’s knowing looks.
Hawke grinned at them. “Nothing you need concern yourselves with, just a very long running bet finally coming to a close.”
“I... wha?” Sebastian spluttered, sounding near ready to faint with embarrassment.
“Nothing Sweet Thing,” Isabela purred, tossing something to him underhand, which he only barely caught in his daze. He opened his palm to examine the object and stared in confusion at a battered brass key glinting in the dim light. “It’s to a room down the hall,” she explained. “Got it in advance for the two of you, figured you’d appreciate it.” she said with a saucy wink.
Even from behind Anders could see Sebastian blush, his ears and the back of his neck flushing crimson. There was a brief moment when he thought the prince might actually faint but he was surprised once more when a strong hand wrapped about his wrist and began to tug him towards the door. What remained of his sanity, and Justice, went skittering to the back of his head with a gibbering wail at this and he trotted after the prince without complaint, just enough of his mind intact still to make rude hand gestures at the room at large as he walked past.