Ok here's a prompt because I want to see your reaction to this. Younger Cullen and Younger Alistair experimenting in the Chantry since they are totally dorm mates fight me go ahead I dare you.
Title: Swords and Broken Shields ★Pairing: Cullen Rutherford / Alistair TheirinRating: NSFWSummary: Alistair is a few weeks away from taking his vows. His friendship with Cullen’s grown strong over the years, if a trifle… odd, and the night before his departure takes an unexpected turn. They meet again, twelve years later, neither of them templars but both of them battling nightmares of their own, haunted by memories never forgotten. What started as a silly prompt quickly became the ship nobody knew they needed, and I’m sailing at full speed.
Warnings: Fluff & Angst, Explicit Sex, Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, Backward Romance, Awkward Romance, The Fade, Chant of Light.Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 2 ½ || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 4 ½ || Part 5 || Part 6 || [ongoing]
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“…O Maker, hear my cry. Guide me through the blackest nights, steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked, make me to rest in the warmest places…”
Rasping notes seep into Cullen’s ears as slumber fades, slow, languid, a muffled groan to halt the awareness creeping up his senses. The moon still glows, its lightfiltered through pulled curtains, and he thinks, distantly, that it’s much tooearly for such a devout litany. Alistair thinks otherwise. He lies nearby, onthe bed next to his, and Cullen groans again, eyes cracked open—it’s dark, buthe sees, vision blurred, the steady rise of his chest, bare, and the muscles ofhis shoulder, taut and brisk, his arm jerked back and forth under the covers. Perhaps a nightmare, he tells himself,but Alistair chants louder and breathes heavier and Cullen grits his teeth, thebridge of his nose pinched between shaky fingers.
“Alistair,”he hisses low, and his voice is full of interrupted dreams. “What are you doing?”
“Oh,”Alistair stills, and he shifts and he pulls the covers, up, fast, tucked under his chin. “Cullen.You’re awake. Of course you’re awake, now,when I…”
His voice trailsoff and there’s a chuckle in his throat, causing Cullen’s eyebrows to rise, unimpressed,the broad of his upper body braced on his elbow.
“I was,uh… Pray…ing.”
“Praying.”
”Praying.”
“With yourhand down your trousers.”
“Oh, was itwhere it was? I could have sworn it—”
“Maker’sbreath, Alistair,” Cullen sighs, and he shakes his head and he rakes ahand through his curls, awake, sour, rolling out of bed on reluctant feet.“You’ll be taking your vows in a fortnight.”
“I haven’ttold my hand. Maybe I should have.”
“Youhaven’t—ugh.”
The wooden floorcreeks under his weight, a wave of his hand to dismiss his friend. Alistair,ever the jester. How he was ever taken seriously by their peers, let alonetheir superiors, is beyond him, but there’s something about him that’srather… charming, the sort of energy that lifts spirits and widen stubbornlips, and despite his execrable mood, Cullen can’t find it in himself to flatout ignore him.
“I’ve notsinned… have I?” Alistair asks as Cullen bends over a small basin ofcold water, splashing his face. “I mean—”
“No,” hesighs again, and he feels uneasy, droplets of water running down his chin, hisneck, crystal beads on his chest as he slowly turns around. “But if youcan’t resist the urge now, what willyou do once the thrill of the forbidden overtakes you?”
“Canyou?”
“Can I… what?”
“Resist. Theurge.”
“I…”
He frowns, hismouth dry—he doesn’t like where this conversation is going and he walks back tohis bed, the air cool on his bare torso, a beeline back to safety.
He shouldn’tsleep naked.
“I didn’tsee your name on the roster,” Alistair goes on, and Cullen blanches,feeling his gaze on him and promptly pulling the blankets over his body.“You won’t be taking them, will you? Your vows.”
“No,”he clears his throat—the glance he’s shot him wavers askance. “I won’t betaking such vows.”
Alistair shiftson the mattress—he can hear him, buthe doesn’t dare look now, lying flaton his back and shielding his eyes with the breadth of his forearm.
“Have you…already… done… it, then? I’ve heardsome of the boys, they’ve… experienced. To…ge…ther.They’re strictly forbidden to attend the ceremony now. Have you?”
“Have I what?” he indulges him, a low groan,and he knows he shouldn’t.
“Experienced—”
“Maker no, Alistair! This is ridiculous.”
”Will you?”
His arm moves ofits own volition, swift, a fistful of fleecy feathers, and he throws thepillow, away, hard, a blow toAlistair’s face.
“You’redelirious,” he grouses, but instead of silence, there’s laughter ringingin his ears, a chant of snorts—his pillow’s thrown right back at him and hepunches its torn shape under his cheek, face half-buried. “Go back tosleep.”
“Tell thatto my hand!”
”ALISTAIR!”
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