Who is louder?
Anders makes these noises. They surprise Fenris at first, but when he thinks back to the first time they kissed—heated, in the moment, hands grabbing, fingers bruising—and the way Anders had moaned into his mouth like he was dying…well. Fenris really shouldn’t be surprised.
Who is more experimental?
Anders likes to try things. He likes to touch and lick and bite and beg, likes to pull Fenris on top of him and demand. It takes Fenris longer to become comfortable, longer to know what he wants and that he can ask for it. He’s not used to asking and getting—neither of them are, really—but Anders is more ready, more willing to try for it.
Who takes more risks?
Anders, heart on his sleeve and pursuing life, liberty, and love, takes more risks.
Really, when he closed the distance between the two of them in that alley, when lips met instead of fists, wasn’t that the biggest risk of all?
Do they fuck or make love?
At first it’s fucking, angry and impulsive, fingers and mouths bruising, bodies shoved up against walls and hard places. They fuck like they fight, sharp words and tongues, emotions explosive.
Gradually, things change. They begin to stay, they begin to listen. In the wee hours of the morning, when the sun is only just beginning to slip through the streets and back alleys of Kirkwall, that they have more in common than they thought. That they’re experiences are both valid, and that neither negates the other’s.
Antagonism turns to friendship turns to…something else neither of them are really quick willing to name.
Lights on or off?
Things often happen so quickly they don’t even think of the lights, and so they remain on, their bodies bared to each other.
Who is more likely to be caught masturbating?
There have been nights when Fenris can’t sleep, his body aching, nightmares haunting him, that he gets up and walks, wanders Hightown and Lowtown. Eventually, his feet lead him to Anders and his clinic. He lets himself in on these nights. Sometimes he finds Anders asleep, quiet and warm. He blinks awake and scoots over, makes room for Fenris in his bed. Or gets up and makes tea. Welcomes Fenris. Sometimes he finds him in the middle of a nightmare himself, limbs flailing. Fenris wakes him up then, voice and hands gentle.
And sometimes he finds Anders awake, feet and back flat on his bed, hand around his cock and hips straining.
“What me to help with that?” he asks, and Anders jerks, groans, looks at him with heat filled eyes. Licks his lips and nods.
Who comes first?
Anders, almost always. It’s more difficult for Fenris, and the pain his markings leave him in. But Anders finds ways to touch him, places that feel amazing. Much later, he plays with some of his healing skills to take the edge off, tries other things to drive Fenris crazy. He’s determined to, at some point, make Fenris come hard and fast and firsti.
Who is better at oral and who prefers it?
Anders likes to use his mouth, likes to suck and bite and leave his own marks on the clear plains of skin at Fenris’ hips. To wrap his fingers around the base of his cock and suck him down until those hips are driving up. To feel Fenris’ fingers slip into his hair—loose for just this purpose—and hold on.
Sometimes it’s too much for Fenris, and he has to pull Anders off, push him over onto his back and suck his cock instead. But it’s Anders who goes for it first, it’s Anders who originally dropped to his knees and started this all.
Who is more submissive?
They’ve both worked so hard to have any control over their lives that submission of any sort is difficult, and neither of them care for it. In bed—or against walls, chairs, tables—they meet each other head on.
Who usually initiates things?
It’s a trade off. Depends on the day, the week. On whether they’ve been arguing recently. On how often they see one another.
There was one time when it had been a while—long enough for them to begin to doubt what was happening—that neither of them wanted to initiate, the both of them waiting for the other to make the first move.
It had been Hawke, sighing into his pint, saying, “Maker, would the two of you just get a room again?” that tipped them back over. After, limbs spread out on sweat-soaked sheets, they’d laughed about it and known that maybe things were different now, maybe this really was something.
Who is more sensitive?
Fenris, and this is both a good and bad thing. Sometimes, it means Anders barely has to touch him and he’s driven wild. Other times, his markings are too painful, make everything too much and he pulls away with a bitten off groan. It was awkward the first time it happened, but they know each other now. Really know each other. This is where Anders’ experiments with healing help.
This is how they learn to be quiet with each other, and gentle. Where they learn how to talk and listen and hear.