Fade Rift IC: Inbox

[dreadinquisitor]

Notes, crystals, or other bits of interest.

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Gardens, the day after That Disaster with Gavin

[mythalenaste]

Pel sees him and remembers his face, but doesn't approach him immediately. She shouldn't. She should let Gavin's affairs be his own. Except she already intruded, didn't she? Made him run away from this object of his affections to come comfort her.

It's hard to call what she feels jealousy, because that would imply she wanted Gavin back. It's more that seeing him with other people makes her horribly aware of her own deficiency, that someone else possesses some quality required to keep a loved one nearby. That isn't limited to Gavin, either. She just...doesn't have what it takes to keep people near her, somehow. That shouldn't mean Gavin can never be happy.

She finally approaches him when she's only half-convinced that the idea of approaching him can be considered a smart one. She hardly ever does anything impulsive in her life.

"'Neth ara," she mumbles. "I--"

This is a terrible idea. She has difficulty looking Max in the eye.

"Gavin...is absolutely terrible at talking. About anything."

There. Direct approach. Her gaze finally holds steady.

"I don't want you to think what happened is worse than it is. He can exaggerate, it's a way he has of punishing himself."

[dreadinquisitor]

He'd thought about her, of course. Had wondered if he should try to find her, try to apologize... but he hadn't been certain that wouldn't just make things worse. To have her find him was unexpected.

And something of a relief, as well as terrifying.

Digging in a herb bed, his hands full of earth and a smear of dirt on his cheek when she approached, he straightened to his knees tensely.

"...He tried," he replied, brushing his hands together slowly. "He told me you two were to be bonded and it -- didn't go well. Was that not true?"

[mythalenaste]

"It is." All right, there. Common frame of reference. Pel keeps eye contact as she sits on a bench, thereby directing him to do the same. She approves of a shem willing to dig in the earth and get dirt under his fingernails, at least. This one might be worthy of one of her clanmates. "Or, it went pretty well until he left. I honestly don't entirely understand what happened in his head because he's absolutely terrible at talking, but he did leave. No mistreatment or anything, just..."

Deep breath.

"What else did he say?"

[dreadinquisitor]

"Admittedly, it gets more confusing after that," he said softly, blinking as he replayed the conversation over in his mind again (as if he'd stopped). He rubbed the back of his wrist against his cheek as he rolled up off his knees and onto his heels, rising from the bed to approach the bench. "But I think - I'm certain, he regrets what happened. And that he's deeply sorry that he hurt you."

[mythalenaste]

"He is." She swallows. "He thinks he can punish himself into being a better person because he doesn't know how to just...make better choices. He could probably use your help there, if...that's what you want...to do?"

She peers up at him.

[dreadinquisitor]

Maxwell paused, caught momentarily off guard by the question - namely because it came from her.

"I--" he blinked again, and his head tipped. "I'm not sure he wants anything from me, at the moment, but I will always be here for him, if he needs me."

[mythalenaste]

Okay, okay. They seem to be friends. Pretty good friends, maybe.

"That's good." Light touch, light touch. No meddling, this isn't really her affair. "Did you meet recently?"

[dreadinquisitor]

He shook his head, not surprised that Gavin's clan didn't know about him. Lest of all her, likely being the reason they'd met at all.

"It was several years ago. At the annual Tourney in the Free Marches."

[mythalenaste]

She nods faintly.

"Good." She's done here, really. This is all she needed to establish.

"I've work to do. Thank you for your time." She pushes to her feet.

First Day Celebrating, NSFW

[dreadinquisitor]

[Continuing from here.]

He had wanted those words, had waited for them -- they were a pleasure unto themselves, a knot low along Maxwell's spine squeezing, drawing a groan from deep within him, arching his body closer as his head dipped to take Gavin's mouth again.

Harder, hungrier. A question despite how he couldn't speak.

[slipshot]

He gave into it completely willingly, moaning deeply as he let Maxwell overwhelm him, giving in as he let his body press close - the hard heat of his groin pressing forward, rolling his hips to seek Maxwell's, to seek more--

"--wanted you so much, for so long," he admitted in a heated whisper, groaned against Maxwell's lips, the first admission like opening a floodgate.

[dreadinquisitor]

Blunt fingernails dragged against Gavin's stomach, Maxwell's fist curling in the fabric of his shirt. Pulling it upward.

More skin. Quickly. He needed to feel it against his, to taste it.

"You have me," he murmured against Gavin's mouth, the words muffled by kisses, but the press of his hips clear. "...Do... please...."

[slipshot]

Creators, but that voice went straight south, taking his blood right with it. It was a call to action, of sorts, for fingers than had been hesitating, but they did no longer. He gripped Maxwell tight and then immediately moved for his belt, his breath like a pant on his lips when he had any control over them at all, when they weren't completely consumed by Maxwell's lips, his mouth, his taste--

[dreadinquisitor]

He'd imagined it, of course he had. Both before, and since. But none his daydreams, of the sweats that had roused him in the night, could compare. None could stand against the feel of Gavin moving against him, bodies already straining despite the barriers between them. Of the taste of his lips, the smell of him....

Of just - him. Real and warm, and there, wanting him back.

He jerked Gavin's shirt up, mouth pulling away just long enough to work it over his head before returning again and pressing hard.

"Sweet Maker...."

[slipshot]

It didn't matter that the air had a snowy chill to it where it seeped into the tower through broken stones, beat back only by the flickering candles around them. Gavin's blood ran hot enough to be a furnace in its own right, his skin the same deep tan even under his shirt, proof that the colour was less the sun than it was simply him. His fingers fumbled, too excited, as he finally managed to pull Maxwell's belt free.

"Does he usually involve himself in these sorts of affairs?" Gavin asked breathlessly, almost laughing if he wasn't so incredibly, incredibly aroused.

[dreadinquisitor]

His mouth was already moving, roaming along Gavin's jaw and working his way lower, wondering if the taste of him changed.... It took a moment for the joke to sink in.

"If he does, he can stay right out of this one," he chuckled roughly, lips warm and firm against Gavin's collarbone, breath a heated pant. "I'm not going anywhere."

[slipshot]

"Good," he replied immediately, finally getting to the cord at Maxwell's groin and pulling the laces loose with deft, if nervous fingers. He didn't let them get all the way inside, however, pulling back to go for Maxwell's shirt instead, leaving his trousers half open as he tugged it up and over his head.

"Because I am pretty sure I would lose a fight with a god, but damn I would try--"

Skyhold, Night, After Talking with Zevran

[dreadinquisitor]

If they didn't have plans, Maxwell typically took care not to intrude on Gavin. He still suspected there might be someone else, and he was trying to be accepting of it. Which was all the easier if he didn't have to see it; if he could tell himself that it wasn't happening at all.

But that night, after seeing Zevran, after realizing just how much he'd gone through... He knew the Inquisition was dangerous - that anything could happen to anyone - but it was somehow now more real; and the last thing he wanted was to head into the dark and spend the night alone.

He wanted company. Wanted Gavin's company. Wanted to hold, and be held, and know that everything was alright - if only for a short while.

So he went looking. Started asking. And eventually, he found his way to the room where Gavin had set up for that.

He hesitated a moment, then knocked.

[slipshot]

The fact that he had found a room at all was something special in its own right - he typically just fell asleep wherever he found himself, but he'd spend the last two nights worrying so deeply and working so hard that he was exhausted and needed a full nights rest. Luckily, he hadn't yet actually gone to sleep - was just stripping out of his armour and oiling it when he heard the knock.

"Hello?" He called, looking up curiously. "Come in--"

[dreadinquisitor]

"Gavin?"

He eased open the door, enough to peek in, then smiled and widened it further.

"Surprise. Open to a little company tonight?"

[slipshot]

"As long as you don't mind that I may just fall asleep on you," Gavin said, giving him a sheepish smile as he set down the half-oiled armour.

"I am more than happy for it."

[dreadinquisitor]

His smile widened and he slipped into the small room, closing the door behind him as he'd made the tail of his leathers had made it through.

"That sounds perfect to me," he said. "I've missed you."

[slipshot]

He stood up, stepping over to pull Maxwell into a warm, tight, hug.

"Well we'll have to solve that," He teased quietly. And then, a little more seriously, and with a strange note of sadness in it: "I've missed you, too."

[dreadinquisitor]

His arms came around Gavin without hesitation, holding firm. With the elf's hair against his cheek and the feel of him warm against him, he let out a long breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

It was a long moment before he pulled back enough to look at him.

"Are you - have you been alright?"

[slipshot]

"I'm fine," Gavin said, giving Maxwell a half smile that was just a little shamed, if anything.

"I am perfectly fine. It's everyone else that keeps running off and getting hurt."