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schroedingerscatisgay

May 8, 2025

The Sensual Education of Lucanis Dellamorte

read here on ao3 or below the cut

Relationships:

Lucanis Dellamorte/Emmrich Volkarin, Lucanis Dellamorte/Spite/Emmrich Volkarin

Additional Tags:

Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Pining, Scent Kink, VERY SPICY

Summary:

Emmrich and Lucanis had been growing closer together for some time, but neither man realized how close they truly yearned to be with each other. Until Lucanis accidentally left a shirt behind with Emmrich when the mage had healed him after an injury sustained in the field. He returned to an unexpected sight, but it opened up the opportunity for Lucanis to gather courage and let Emmrich finally know what he really wanted... him.

Word Count: 5,270

Chapter 1: Dirty Laundry

“You know, I am starting to wonder if you purposefully allow yourself to be injured on a mission simply so you can come visit me for healing.” Emmrich teased Lucanis lightly as he finished up with wrapping strips of muslin around the rogue’s torso, fingers deftly tucking and securing the bandaging tightly so that it wouldn’t work loose.

“I do enjoy your company.” Lucanis replied, his accompanying smirk so casual and unintentionally coy that it made the necromancer’s heart skip and stomach flip. Though he tried not to let that show as he put the finishing touches on the dressing.

“Well, be that as it may, I’d advise simply asking for my company the next time you desire it.” The mage said with a small smirk as Lucanis gathered up his jacket and hopped off of the professor’s desk where he had been sitting while Emmrich tended to and healed his wounds.

“Maybe I will, then. Maybe for some coffee and tea.” Lucanis said with a nod as he put his jacket back on. “I would enjoy that.” Emmrich said softly, helping the Crow with the garment. “And if you feel any further pain or discomfort, don’t hesitate to come back.”

“You are too good to me, mi amigo. ” Lucanis said, his smile warm as he patted Emmrich’s gloved hand, and for a moment Emmrich felt as though the rogue was hesitant to pull away, as slowly as he did. “Perhaps you can check up on me after dinner, maybe we could have coffee and tea then?”

“I think I could be convinced.” Emmrich said, that heart-skip and stomach-flip happening again as he watched Lucanis saunter off and out the door with the grace of a predator. Even injured, he never lost that grace.

Emmrich wished he had been out in the field with Lucanis, but he had stayed behind in the Lighthouse to continue on his research of the Evanuris. If he had been out there, Lucanis might not have been injured, or he’d at least have been able to tend to the wounds more quickly.

He’d also have been able to see the rogue in motion, which admittedly had become a favorite pastime of his. The mage enjoyed catching the glimpses of him in battle that he did. The way he gracefully moved across the battlefield from target to target, his blades slashing through Venatori or Antaam with deadly precision and accuracy. It was a captivating and oftentimes hypnotizing dance of blades, purple and black wings, and death that was hard to look away from. Lucanis moved with an elegance that spoke of how he knew how each and every muscle of his own body moved, the control and grace held in each step and slash of his blades always captivated the necromancer.

There had been times when he had caught sight of Lucanis working out and training in the courtyard, early in the morning, with the rogue unaware that Emmrich was watching him from the balcony above. Or perhaps Lucanis was aware, sometimes Emmrich wondered, with the way he would stretch before beginning his training. Did he position himself in such a way as he stretched so that Emmrich would be able to see every scintillating part of the rogue, teasing him from beneath those tight leathers?

Did the assassin know how the Mortalitasi’s eyes lingered on him, observing him, drinking in every bit of magnificent movement of muscle and bone, vein and sinew?

The mage let out a shuddering sigh as he tried not to let himself get so lost and consumed in those thoughts. He wasn’t here for that, he was here to help with a dire situation and powerful enemies threatening the entirety of Thedas. He wasn’t here to grow attached or entertain fantasies that were better left to younger men.

So he went about cleaning up after tending to the Crow’s wounds, doing his best to shove those thoughts away and focus on tidying. After folding up the unused scraps of bandages, he noticed as he looked down that Lucanis’ undershirt lay on the floor, ripped and stained with blood along the ratted edges, evidence of his injury in battle.

He bent down to pick up the garment, then turned and leaned back against his desk, sitting just on the edge of it as he examined the shirt in his hands. It was fine fabric, the sort he would expect a man with Lucanis’ wealth to possess, though not flauntingly so, at least not in the way the nobles of Nevarra were about it all. Lucanis somehow remained noble and humble at once, just one more thing that Emmrich admired about the rogue.

What possessed him to do it, Emmrich didn’t know, but as he ran his thumbs over the fabric, he had the sudden urge to bring it up to his face and inhale deeply the scent of the rogue, and so he did just that. His eyes closed, he brought the torn and bloody, soft and silky fabric up to his face, feeling the threads catch just barely across his evening stubble, and he breathed in deeply everything he could of Lucanis.

The metallic hint of blood, the musk of the assassin’s sweat mixed with blade oil, coffee and wine, and the sharp and sweet spices he’d used on the previous evening’s meal.

It was like a symphony of scents that were a journey of Lucanis’ daily routine that started with those exercises every morning in the courtyard. Sometimes he’d spy the rogue there from the balcony, shirtless as he went through his routine, and Emmrich could do nothing but quietly stare and wonder, did he pray more for Lucanis to catch him or remain completely unaware?

Just the thought of it spread a pleasurable warmth through his body as he felt his cheeks flush and blood rushing to other, lower areas. A faint, strangling gasp escaped his lips as he nuzzled deeply into the shirt, rubbing his cheeks against fabric that had graced the taught and toned skin of his favorite rogue. His trousers were growing uncomfortably tight as he leaned back and against the desk a little more firmly to steady himself.

How utterly undignified. How terribly perverse. He shouldn’t be thinking like this, feeling like this about a friend who put his dear trust in the necromancer, but Maker help him, he couldn’t stop himself.

The want and the need that began pooling in his belly as he felt himself harden was a frustrating annoyance and a terrible inconvenience to his attempt at maintaining his composure. It would only ache and pain and depress him further if he did not at least take care of himself and his unwarranted desires. Shame bloomed brightly on his cheeks, even in his solitude, as he hastily brought one hand down to quickly work loose the fastenings on his trousers.

All the while he kept Lucanis’ shirt pressed to his face, rubbing it against his cheek, breathing in that intoxicating aroma of the Crow as his eyes remained closed and he envisioned him doing his morning stretches. Only instead of in the courtyard it was right there in front of him in his quarters, stark naked, for Emmrich to be able to draw his eyes over every single inch of his perfectly scarred anatomy.

A very scandalized part of his brain was still trying to tell him to quell such thoughts, but he was presently very deep into the fantasy and he wasn’t going to stop. He shoved his hand down into his now opened trousers and took hold of his cock, hard and twitching and aching for denied attention. He let out a gasping moan into Lucanis’ shirt as he pulled it free and the cool air in his quarters caressed his heated flesh, sending a shiver through his entire being. The golden ball of his piercing at the tip of his cock felt cold under his thumb as he rolled the pad of it over the metal, imagining for a moment that it was Lucanis’ tongue rolling it around in enticing circles.

The image was lacking, though, and he pulled his hand away for only a brief moment to bring his thumb up to his lips and slather it in his own saliva before putting it back to work in his fantasy. Gripping his cock, he stroked it in short, teasing tugs with his slickened thumb rolling over the ball of his piercing and along his slit, smearing around the bead of precum that had formed.

He pictured Lucanis on his knees before him, gripping onto Emmrich’s thighs, murmuring filthy desires and praise in Antivan against his cock before taking it into his mouth. The very image of it had him gasp out a throaty moan and he turned his head more into the shirt, still gripped to his face, biting into the fabric and tasting it with his tongue. He suckled on the fabric as if it was Lucanis’ flesh, a sensitive nipple, teasing it between teeth and with his tongue. Maker he really should not be having those thoughts, but he was so pent up that he could hardly resist.

It was just thoughts. It was just fantasies. Something to hold him over and give him some form of release before he made a fool of himself in front of the real thing. He’d never reciprocate, he’d never approve, he’d never have interest in a filthy old professor far past his prime who shouldn’t be having such thoughts about his dear friend and colleague.

Emmrich gasped again as he quickened his strokes, biting harder into the cloth of Lucanis’ shirt and sucking on it between his lips, tonguing at the fabric to get any sort of taste of the rogue he could possibly have. Sweat and blood and coffee and spice. He imagined that it was the assassin’s deft fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him with a hand that dealt out death as easily as it cooked a nourishing and fulfilling meal. He could almost feel Lucanis’ hand on his throat as he stroked Emmrich, squeezing just enough to drive him to the edge of madness as the necromancer would come completely undone in the deadly hands of the Mage-Killer.

That image, that thought, that forbidden desire was enough to set Emmrich tumbling over the edge into the abyss of his climax. He cried out as he came hard, not even caring that he’d made a mess of himself and only imagining those luscious dark brown eyes staring at him as the mage cried out his name into the rogue’s shirt.

“ Lucanis…!”

“Emmrich?” The rogue’s voice pierced through the veil of his fantasy and the mage’s eyes flew wide open as he looked directly at the Antivan with a mix of shock and desire.

“Oh, my word! Lucanis! ” The necromancer shouted out sharply, breathlessly bringing said man’s shirt down to cover himself and hide his shame. He quickly turned his head away as he felt a furious bloom of deep red brighten his whole face, his ears, the back of his neck even. He stared down at the grain in the wood of his desk, swallowing hard before he opened his mouth to try and speak and stutter out… something. What could he even say?

“L-Lucanis, I-I am sorry, I don’t… know what to say, what came over me…” Emmrich began, but winced almost like he’d been stung as he heard Lucanis’ footsteps approach, and he closed his eyes to keep from seeing the assassin move towards him out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t know what to expect, he felt like he had broken an irreparable boundary and he should be admonished for it in every way.

What he did not expect was to feel a gentle, calloused hand cup his face, nudging him towards facing the rogue. “ Mi amigo, look at me…”

Emmrich let out a choking sob at how tender Lucanis’ voice sounded, a tenderness that the mage did not feel he deserved in the slightest. He’d stolen the assassin’s discarded shirt and defiled himself while clinging onto it like some desperate, love-sick schoolboy. How could he deserve tender after that?

But he couldn’t deny Lucanis the request, either, he at least had his honor and dignity intact there. Even if it was difficult to maintain his composure when he still had his hand wrapped around his now soft and sticky cock hidden beneath the shirt. So he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Lucanis, shame burning brightly still on his cheeks while preparing himself to face the rogue’s disapproval.

Instead he was met with a smile, something that was both bashful and flattered all at once and Emmrich didn’t believe he had ever seen a look so endearing. It tugged at his heart and made him feel even more guilty for his self-indulgence spurred on by his fantasies. He expected anger or disgust, but Lucanis was smiling .

“I… am flattered, Emm.” Lucanis said, letting out a light and short chuckle as he slipped his hand away from the mage’s face and leaned back from him, arms crossed over his chest.

“How… how long were you standing there?” Emmrich asked a bit weakly, voice high and cracked, not sure if he was prepared for the answer but he needed to know.

“Since you started biting my shirt.” Lucanis said simply, but there was a hint of amusement and a waiver of intrigue.

“ Oh, Maker’s breath…”

“I did not even realize people had that pierced…”

“ Lucanis…”

“Emmrich, stop…” Lucanis said, so abruptly that Emmrich immediately snapped his mouth shut, but the rogue’s face softened and the necromancer felt his heart skip a few beats as that look made him feel like he was going to melt. “It is… all right. I am not upset, just… surprised.”

“It still… isn’t appropriate of me… and you shouldn’t be surprised, you are a very attractive man…” Emmrich said softly, shame still stinging his cheeks. Even more so as Lucanis reached for his shirt, and Emmrich instinctively tugged it towards himself and into his lap a little tighter.

“May I?” The rogue asked, one brow raised, and Emmrich swallowed hard as he stared at Lucanis with wide-eyed wonder, bewildered and curious to the assassin’s next actions. All he could do was faintly nod and pry his fingers open to let Lucanis take his shirt.

The rogue slowly removed the shirt from Emmrich’s lap, the mage letting out a soft gasp as he was once more exposed to the cool air. His hand that was still wrapped around his cock quickly tried to tuck himself back in, but Lucanis’ hand shot out and caught him by the wrist.

“Wait. Please, I… I have never seen another man like this before…” Lucanis said, and Emmrich watched as a deep flush spread on the rogue’s cheeks while his eyes gazed over the necromancer with something Emmrich could only describe as curious want.

“Oh? Never?”

“Never. And… I like what I see…” Lucanis said, his voice a little shaky and betraying the confidence the rogue appeared to be attempting. Emmrich was most intrigued by the comment that Lucanis made about never seeing another man in such a state of inappropriate half-undress. But even more so that Lucanis said he liked it.

He liked seeing Emmrich this way.

“You do…” Emmrich asked tentatively, watching closely as Lucanis’ eyes flicked down to his pierced cock and back up to the mage’s eyes, and he wondered what exactly the rogue was contemplating as they stared at each other.

“Yes, I… I do.” Lucanis said, as if the revelation was a sudden one for him, and one that he seemed intent on embracing as his eyes again traced down the line of Emmrich’s body from his head to his cock.

“Emmrich… can I touch you?”

“Lucanis…”

“ Please…”

“...Yes.”

The assassin’s touch was tentative at first. Uncertain, calloused fingers wrapping around Emmrich’s softened and spent length, which caused a soft gasp to pass from Emmrich’s lips. Lucanis’ eyes shot up to the mage’s face, looking at him to gauge his reaction, meeting desire filled hazel eyes as Emmrich breathlessly nodded silent encouragement to the Crow.

The grin that plastered itself across the rogue’s face at that nod made Emmrich’s stomach flip again and he couldn’t help the strangled, almost sobbing moan that escaped his throat. Lucanis only seemed fascinated by that while he tentatively stroked his fingers along Emmrich’s soft cock, stopping with his thumb to rub back and forth over the piercing.

“ Maker’s breath…”

“Does that feel good?” Lucanis asked, uncertainty in his words.

“Don’t you know?”

“I have never done this before… with someone else, that is.”

“You are… oh… doing splendidly, darling…” Emmrich gasped, taking in a sharp breath.

“I must be, you are getting hard again…”

“ Lucanis…”

“Should I stop?”

“Absolutely not.”

Emmrich could not believe how easily the rogue’s so-called unskilled touch could bring him back to full arousal so quickly, even as he was still sticky and buzzing from his last orgasm. He was even more surprised that Lucanis was touching him to begin with, stroking him, playing with his piercing in much the same way as the rogue had been in his fantasy.

“Do you often think about me when you touch yourself?” Lucanis asked, the rogue’s hand stroking Emmrich in such a slow and agonizing tease that he swore the assassin knew exactly what he was doing.

“Once or twice…” Emmrich said with a small, confident chuckle that melted into a moan as his head fell back and his hips bucked up against Lucanis’ strokes, which had picked up in pace. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Only to myself… When I think about you…”

“Oh, Lucanis… ”

The necromancer gasped, clasping onto the edge of the desk as Lucanis stroked him, uneven and uneasy but with a determination to give Emmrich pleasure that had the mage already teetering right there on the edge of pleasure once again. Emmrich closed his eyes tight once again as he just stopped thinking about it, stopped trying to complicate it, and gave in to the pleasure of Lucanis stroking his cock.

It had been so long since another person had touched him in such a way that it didn’t take much for another wave of orgasmic pleasure to rock through Emmrich’s body and he came again, so hard his vision went white behind his eyes. He was sure he cried out a reverent prayer of gratitude to the rogue, but how coherent he was or if he was saying it in Nevarran, he wasn’t sure.

Lucanis’ strokes slowed and then stopped as Emmrich spent the last of himself over the rogue’s hand, making himself even more of a mess than he had before. The rogue grabbed one of the scraps of bandages that had still sat on the desk beside the mage, and used it to clean his own hand up as well as Emmrich, then gently tucked the necromancer back into his trousers. Emmrich gasped and twitched a little at the touch, still very sensitive, but he let out a soft chuckle and turned his eyes on the rogue, hair tousled and a satisfied gleam in his eye.

Well, almost satisfied. He reached out and hooked his fingers into the top of Lucanis’ trousers and pulled the rogue close to him. “Let me take care of you…”

Lucanis paused, hesitating only a moment before bringing a hand up to grasp one of Emmrich’s wrists. Emmrich furrowed his brows at the sudden uncertainty from the rogue, and for a split second he worried that Lucanis was suddenly regretting what had just happened.

“If you want more of me, Emmrich, you need to take me out on a date, first.” Lucanis said, turning a bit bashful once again but there was a smile on his lips all the same as he looked up at Emmrich expectantly.

The necromancer was surprised by that request, but pleasantly so, and withdrew his hands from Lucanis’ pants before giving him a gentle nod. “Very well then, a date it is, my dear Crow.”

Lucanis smiled warmly at the mage’s words, and Emmrich could have faced down death itself right then and there.

“Tonight? After dinner?” The rogue asked, reaching down to grab his torn and dirty shirt from the desk. “There is a little cafe in Treviso, with the best coffee, and I think they serve tea as well.”

“My dear Lucanis, am I taking you on the date or are you taking me?” Emmrich asked with a playful scoff and a coy smirk.

“ Mierda. Just say yes before I lose my nerve.” Lucanis said quickly.

“Yes.” Emmrich answered without hesitation, though he looked at the shirt that the rogue now held crumpled in his hands, tightly, almost like it was a lifeline giving him the courage to do what it was he was doing. “Are you sure you want that back…?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yes. I can wash and patch it up… it is my favorite shirt, after all.” Lucanis said, a puckish smirk on his face that Emmrich was certain meant the flush he felt on his own cheeks was quite visible. “I… will see you after dinner?”

“Indubitably.” Emmrich said with a soft, wistful sigh escaping his lips.

And then Lucanis seemed to hesitate again for a moment before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Emmrich’s jaw with a gentle whisper. “I look forward to it, mi tesoro. ”

A small gasp tumbled from Emmrich’s lips and he barely had time to react before Lucanis was pulling away entirely and made his way out of the room, looking over his shoulder once more at the mage with a bashful smile. As if he hadn’t just walked in on Emmrich in the most compromising of situations, and then proceeded to finish him off a second time.

“Maker’s breath…” Emmrich murmured softly under his breath before he shook his head, mulling over everything that had just happened. He had to clean himself up before dinner, most certainly, and decide on a new outfit for the night.

After all, he had a date.

_______________________________________

“Why Didn’t You Take Him?” The demon’s voice was a frustrated and annoyed growl at Lucanis as they stalked across the courtyard. Lucanis had made the demon promise to keep himself quiet when they accidentally stumbled on Emmrich so… compromised. Apparently now that they were out of the necromancer’s earshot, the demon decided he could be as vocal about his grievances.

“Mierda, Spite, it isn’t… like that.” Lucanis said with a huff, shaking his head and scrunching his face as he quickly made his way to the dinning hall, hoping that he would not be seen or interrupted by anyone else.

“Yes. It. Is. You Want Him. He Wants You. He Said Your Name, You Made Him–”

“I know! I know... what I did…” Lucanis snapped back, which only made Spite cackle and the rogue grumble to himself. Oh yes, he was very aware of what had transpired, of what he had done. The thought and images of it all ran through his mind as he cautiously opened the door to the dining hall, peeking inside to make sure no one was there. It was empty.

Thank the Maker.

He didn’t think he had ever moved to the pantry door more quickly since claiming the space for himself, whipping the door open with his empty hand and slamming it just behind him. He had been clutching tightly to his shirt the entire walk in his other hand, knuckles white from as tight as he was holding it. Like a desperate anchor point.

Locking the door, grateful that the Lighthouse seemed to provide him with a measure of privacy. The last thing he wanted was someone walking in on him in that moment. Lucanis took quick strides across the room to his cot, Spite right on his heels as he spun around and sat down on the cot, then swung his legs up as he laid back.

His demon hovered beside him, a sly and libidinous smile pulling back the corners of his lips, a look that was somehow both alluring and unnerving on Lucanis’ own face. No doubt it reflected his own face, even as he felt his cheeks flushed hot as he finally took the time to catch his breath and let himself go.

“Mierda, what the hell was I thinking?” Lucanis asked, but he knew exactly what he was thinking. He had noticed about half way back to the dining hall that he had forgotten his shirt in Emmrich’s room, and thought nothing of going back to retrieve it. Emmrich, thankfully, blissfully , had not noticed him enter, but Lucanis had noticed him, and everything that he was doing.

Spite had almost ruined it all, enthusiastically wanting to speak up but Lucanis had been stern about him remaining quiet. He was surprised that the demon had complied so easily, but maybe he had realized that Emmrich would have stopped if he saw that he, they, were watching.

Just the thought of what Emmrich looked like, leaning there against his desk, flushed face buried in Lucanis’ shirt as the mage moaned and stroked himself. Emmrich’s cock, it had surprised him to see the piercing on the tip, but he was mesmerized by the way the necromancer had played with it, noticing a tremble in his thigh as he did so. It was in that moment he had wondered if he could make Emmrich tremble like that himself, and surprised himself with his own thoughts.

He’d never thought that about anyone before.

“You Want Him.” Spite repeated his earlier words and Lucanis groaned as he felt the tightness in his pants telling the truth of his demon’s words.

Of course Spite knew how much he had secretly been desiring the necromancer, trying not to let on to the fact that Emmrich made his heart flip and turn every time he looked at him with that smile. And he had suspected for a while that Emmrich might feel or think the same. He had caught out of the corner of his eye, several times, the way that Emmrich had watched him from the balcony of the Lighthouse while he was doing his morning exercises and training in the courtyard.

Did Emmrich ever catch on that he’d do it shirtless, just for him?

A sigh and another groan escaped his lips as he brought his free hand down to rub at his growing arousal beneath his trousers, his cock hard and aching and needing. Needing to feel experienced hands covered in pretty gold and jewels to so thoroughly work him to release the way Emmrich had done to himself. Emmrich had done it to himself, thinking about Lucanis while he did so.

“Touch Us.” Spite’s voice growled and purred in Lucanis’ ear as he felt his demon coiling around him, settling in his skin, feeling what Lucanis was feeling. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t need to, he only lost himself in the sensation of it.

“What do you think I am doing…” Lucanis murmured, breathless, eyes shut as he clutched his shirt to his chest and rubbed himself through his pants.

“Touch Us More.” Spite growled with a demanding whine that had Lucanis squirming, but it had been so easy to follow his demon's command. “Touch Us And Think About Him.”

Lucanis gasped as he slipped his hand up to fumble with the fastenings on his trousers, quickly and roughly working his own cock out with desperate determination, fueled on by the arousal from his demon he felt thrumming through his very being. Finally, he wrapped his hand around his cock and let out a gasp, picturing Emmrich clearly in his mind as he had caught him wrapped up in his own fantasy just moments before.

“That’s It. Feels So Good.”

“Spite…”

“No. His Name. Say His Name.” Spite growled.

“ Emmrich… ” Lucanis gasped out a whimpering moan while he stroked his cock, hips rocking up into his hand while he clutched tightly onto the shirt.

“The Shirt. Smell It. Bite It.”

Spite’s words spurred on his desire and his need, and he didn’t hesitate to shove the shirt right up against his nose, breathing in every bit of scent that he could from the fabric, from both himself and Emmrich and it was a heady aroma. Spite was only making it all the more overwhelming with his words of encouragement, egging Lucanis on to take it further.

“Yes. Bite Where He Did. Taste It. Taste Him.”

A moan escaped his lips as he found the spot that Emmrich had been biting on, sucking on, and he did the same to it. He moaned around the fabric at the perverse intimacy of having his lips and teeth and tongue right where the mage’s had been. It had all been too much, far too much, and yet it was not enough .

He didn’t just want the fantasies anymore. He wanted the real thing, for the first time ever he really and truly wanted to give himself to someone and that someone was Emmrich, and it seemed that the necromancer wanted the same thing. Emmrich got himself off to him. Emmrich wanted him.

“ Ah-ah, sí, Emmrich!” Lucanis gasped out into his shirt as the thought of being with Emmrich, of having the mage’s lips and hands all over him, taking him, stroking him, it was enough to send him completely tumbling over the edge and he came hard. Harder than he ever had, he was sure, and he could even feel his demon howling through his bones from the pleasure of his orgasm spurting over his hand.

Lucanis’ entire body tensed as he rode out the pleasure of his climax, gasping and whining and praying someone wasn’t on the other side of the pantry door waiting for him to start dinner. Completely spent, his whole body relaxed and collapsed back onto the bed, panting with his eyes closed as he trembled and shook with pleasure. Spite settled in a satisfied curl around Lucanis’ spine and it just made him shiver all the more to feel his demon as pleasantly spent as he was.

“We Want More.”

“Mmm… I agree.” Lucanis muttered with a light chuckle, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt and he took in one more deep breath to catch the scent of both himself and the necromancer mingled together. His head buzzed and his heart raced as he pulled the shirt down off his face and sighed deeply. “But first I have to clean up, and make dinner…”

Lucanis sighed, sitting up slowly with a groan as he used his shirt to wipe himself clean, discarding it for the moment to the corner of the cot. He wasn’t lying when he told Emmrich that was his favorite shirt… and now he had even more reasons for it to be. A wistful sigh passing his lips, he stood up to clean and freshen himself up before collecting and composing himself well enough to cook for the team.

Maker, how was he going to meet Emmrich’s eyes during dinner?

He supposed he would be finding that out soon enough, but already the flush to his cheeks told him that it was going to be an agonizingly long meal. But that was all right, it would be well worth it. After all, he had a date to look forward to that night.

#emmcanis #lucarich #emmrich x lucanis #lucanis x emmrich #emmrich x lucanis x spite #emmrich volkarin #lucanis dellamorte #spite dellamorte #spite dragon age #for some reason this isn't showing up in the tags on my sideblog #so here it is again

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