stuck in a wall, restrained sex, clothed sex, blowjobs, teasing, semi-public sex, riding
“Anders?”
Shit.
“He’s gone, he just wanted…”
Hawke's voice trailed off and Anders could imagine why. He couldn’t see her, because his head was currently almost-but-not-quite hanging over the wide window sil over the alley below. Anders was stretched out on his back through the window, his legs supported by a low bench against the wall. His hands were flexing and straining against the sleeves of his robes, but they were adhered to the stone, not letting him lift them high enough to shift the window off of himself.
“Anders?” Hawke’s voice was muffled through the glass.
”Yes, darling?” Anders’ response was strained.
“Did you try to escape out the window because Cullen was at the door?”
”I might have done that, yes.”
”Did you get stuck on your own trap that you put on the window sil in case anyone tried to get in through the window?”
”That might also have happened.” Anders was resigned to the teasing that was undoubtedly going to follow for at least the next week. Hawke had never made fun of his fear of templars, or the occasional poor decision made in the throes of a panic attack. But even he couldn’t deny her the right to mock him a little after this. “Look, there’s a vial in my pocket - there’s an oil in there that should release the glue.”
Hawke rifled through the pockets of Anders’ robes. This involved a lot of running her hands over his torso and thighs until she found the right one, because Anders had about a million little hidden pockets sewn into the lining of his robes. Anders just grit his teeth against the slightly ticklish sensation until she announced she’d found the vial.
”Finally,” he groaned. “Let me loose so I can get inside.”
There was a long pause that notably did not involve Hawke releasing the glue that was holding him in place.
“I don’t know.” Her voice floated through the window. “I think this might be a good look for you.”
She ran a hand up the inside of Anders’ thigh, making him jump. “Hawke…” He put as much of a warning as he could in his voice, knowing there was only about half a chance she’d actually heed it.
“What?” Her hand curved over his hip, running up to where he was stuck. “If you want me to stop, I’ll obviously stop, but if you don’t want me to stop…”
“Your mother - “
”Out for the afternoon.” Her weight settled on the bench next to his legs. “Something about the party she’s throwing to try to get me married off.”
“Wait, seriously?” Anders lifted his head to stare at Hawke through the window.
”Yes, seriously.”
”I literally live with you.”
”And apparently that’s quite the scandal among the nobility,” Hawke said, running her hand down his leg. Anders’s head fell back - despite his panic and the awkwardness of his position, his body was responding to her touch, because he always responded to her touch.
“Sandal.”
“Bodahn took him into the cellars. Something about ‘channeling his destructive urges’. I decided it was best not to ask.” She ran her hand back up his thigh and the muscles jumped under her fingertips before she removed them. He opened his eyes, seeing Hightown in reverse behind him.
“…someone will see.”
“No they won’t.” Her voice was distant. “That window looks out over an empty alley; it’s why you picked it, remember?” She approached again. “Also, regarding your earlier concerns: the door locks.”
“Someone will hear.”
”Then I guess you’d better keep quiet.”
“Hawke.” Anders’ voice was a low groan; Hawke knew very well what a big ask that was. Anders was reactive in bed, groans and sighs and gasps with every motion. She sat on the bench, knocking on the window so that Anders looked up at her.
“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”
Anders met her eyes through the glass for a long moment. She was smiling at him, clearly excited at what she saw as a fun new experience, albeit one at his expense. But she really would stop if he asked her to. He knew he always could, whenever he needed to, and she would.
And he could still feel where her fingers had trailed across his legs, could feel her weight and warmth resting against him on the bench. It was Hawke, and therefore an irresistible offer.
He nodded. Hawke grinned and slid off the bench.
Unseen hands pushed his robe up, starting from his ankles. He lifted his hips when the fabric snagged on the edge of the bench, and the fabric pooled around his waist. Hawke’s nails ran along the growing hardness in his smallclothes, making his legs fall open on instinct to give her better access. Her hand wrapped around him and he felt his cock swell in her grip, pulling a sigh from him. He immediately pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to silence himself - a sigh wouldn’t give him away, but a sigh was a gateway to other, more obvious sounds.
The heel of her palm dragged up his length, her fingertips parting around the head of his cock and sliding back down either side. His blood was racing already, legs shifting restlessly for lack of being able to touch Hawke back.
Then those fingers hooked in the top of his smalls and he lifted his hips again as she pulled them down and away. Cold air hit flushed skin and he shuddered, fingers flexing at his sides.
Hawke’s warm fingertips around the base of his cock was the only warning he got before her mouth sank over him, enveloping him more than halfway and making a strangled noise escape him. With each bob of her head she took him a little deeper, until the tip of his cock was nudging the back of her throat and he was fighting the moans that tried to escape with every breath. She held him there for a long moment, until the heat disappeared entirely and Hawke’s hand slid up his now spit-slick length.
Anders had been annoyed at not being able to move his arms before, mostly because it was keeping him trapped halfway through an open window. Now he wanted to be able to touch Hawke, to run fingers through her hair. He wanted to be able to sit up and see her, flushed and red from taking his cock down her throat. But he was more at risk of tearing his sleeves than anything else; and even then he was still stuck to the side of the building until Hawke used that oil to remove the glue. He was totally at her mercy.
The hand disappeared, and nothing replaced it. Anders craned his neck, trying to see through the glass, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Maybe someone had come to the door? That almost had to be it. Hawke could be…impish at times, but she wouldn’t just…leave him like this.
Would she?
He was on the edge of panic when the bench shifted and Hawke came into view. She was in nothing but her breastband, and he felt her legs settle on either side of him.
With a grin, she took him in hand and guided him to her entrance, using one hand to brace on the window as she sank down on top of him.
Anders wanted to watch, wanted to see her face as she sank down, taking him in inch by inch. But holding his neck at this angle hurt after too long, and his pleasure rose with each minute movement of her hips, making his head fall back whether he wanted to or not.
Hawke’s other hand came up to the window, the glass supporting her weight as her hips worked back and forth. Anders went up on his toes, trying to thrust up into her, but his feet slipped on the carpet and he bit back a swear as Hawke rolled her hips against his.
He wasn’t going to last. He was trapped under a window and Hawke’s body and anybody could walk through this alley at any time, or hear him if he failed to contain himself, and why did that make it better?
There was a thud against the window and Anders looked up to see Hawke’s forehead resting against the window for a split second before her body clenched down around him and stars burst behind his eyes.
Hawke rode him through her climax, a stuttering, shuddery rhythm as she came down. Her eyes shut, mouth dropped open in pleasure, her body still shuddering around him and Anders’ nails scrabbled against the stone as he fell over the edge. His voice escaped him, if only briefly. A strangled, aborted cry that blessedly did not echo through the alley, merely trailed off with his heaving breaths.
Hawke rode him through that too, until he kicked a foot out and called her name in protest of his oversensitive nerves. She stilled, eyes flickering open to meet his. He met her gaze and watched her mouth stretch into a grin.
“I would like to be not on the ledge now,” he breathed, and there was almost no chance Hawke actually heard him but she nodded regardless, sliding off of him. There was a thud from the other side of the wall and Anders called Hawke’s name again, but a moment later the window slid a little farther up and Hawke appeared.
”Are you alright?” Anders asked as she started pouring the oil along the line of his arm.
“I fell over,” she admitted with a grin. “Legs don’t quite work right now.”
“Well whose fault is that,” Anders retorted, but despite himself he returned her grin, and as soon as the oil had dissolved the glue underneath him he pulled himself up and through the window, spinning around to slam it shut behind him.
When he spun back around it was to grab Hawke, pulling her to him and kissing her soundly, finally running his hands over her skin like he’d wanted to all along. She smiled against his lips and hummed a little in pleasure, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.
“Seems like someone enjoyed themselves,” she murmured.
“Yes, well. Let’s still not make it a habit.” He pressed his lips against her forehead, pulling away.
“What, no second round?” He gave Hawke a look, getting only a cheeky grin in return.
“I need a bath,” he said flatly.
“We can do both,” Hawke said, following him as he headed towards the bath. “I’m great at multitasking.”
”Yes, you’ve proven that.” He looked over his shoulder, smiling fondly. “You drive me insane and make me fall in love with you all at once.”
”See, you say you don’t want a second round and then you say things like that when neither of us is wearing pants. It’s very confusing.”
“You could always put your pants back on.”
”Absolutely not.”