Trapped on the Inside

This is not Larger than a Breadbox

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Oneshot | Provocateur
Title: Provacateur
Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing: Sebastian/m!Hawke
Genre: Smut
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Rogue!Hawke teases. Sebastian rises to the challenge.

A/N: So... I guess I'll be posting kmeme fills I've done in reverse order now. Still un-beta'd, still unedited.


Hawke was a public menace. Some part of Sebastian knew this. The rest of him was all too willing to ignore it.


He had forgotten what it felt like to have someone's earnest attentions, and for Hawke they seemed to be a game to push Sebastian's boundaries. Always, there were sly touches. Innuendo, inappropriate behavior that befitted a rogue. Of course Hawke was a good man. There was no doubt in that. Sebastian could believe in what Hawke stood for, for every ideal that Hawke presented.


That, Sebastian told himself, was why he continued to follow Hawke. It didn't hurt to have the man's attention. Flattery was flattery and the parts of Sebastian that were still tied to his vanity were pleased at the flirtation. it was innocent fun, he thought, and there was no reason to deter it.


If he was true to himself, Sebastian would acknowledge just how handsome he thought Hawke to be. He would not deny the dreams that plagued him of hard muscle and clever fingers with wicked tongue. The vestiges of the spoiled prince Sebastian once was remembered what better uses a smart mouth had. Part of him wondered what would have been if he'd taken the out that he was offered so long ago. Would Hawke still have his appeal?


Even now, Sebastian couldn't say what drew him to the man. Hawke was quick to blaspheme and an irrepressible flirt. He never ceased to leave well enough alone. Go back to Starkhaven, Sebastian. Be prince, Sebastian. The Chantry holds nothing for you, Sebastian. Infuriating. The very least Hawke could do was be gentler in his logic, or at least, attempt to stop inserting lewd gestures into every conversation. It certainly made Sebastian feel foolish for keeping company with the man.


Hawke was always part of trouble, practically a harbinger of it. Now had to be no different with the man waving at Sebastian from just beyond the Chantry's doors, wearing a grin just sort of criminal. Hawke beckoned, and Sebastian did not resist. He never could. It was ridiculous, this compulsion. Hawke was always some steps ahead, leading Sebastian to a discreet nook just a stone's throw from the Chantry, hiding away in a space barely big enough for the both of them.


Sebastian followed despite his better judgment—there was never any better judgment when it came to Hawke—and found himself pressed too close to the other rogue. Sebastian's heart thudded heavy in his chest as Hawke blocked the way, seething a slow heat that soaked through to the prince's core.


"Hawke, what—"


But the man only mimed for silence, a long finger pressed against a mischievous smirk. Hawke stepped in even closer until Sebastian imagined all he could smell was the other rogue. There was something intoxicating about being cornered by this man. Sebastian wasn't helpless. The escape—as well as the occasional passerby—were so close, but Sebastian didn't take the opportunity, breath catching as he heard more than felt his armor being removed. Feelings that he pretended were long forgotten stirred as though he'd never renounced them.


Nimble fingers made quick work of the numerous straps at Sebastian's waist, and there was a pause while Hawke delivered his challenge through his gaze. Hawke's hands were steady as he drew Sebastian's length out, touching only enough to tease. There was time to stop this, and for a moment, Sebastian almost believed it all to be a joke. It was always so hard to tell with the other rogue just which layers were real and which were a defense.


Hot breath ghosted over Sebastian's lips, a taunting gap between their lips until Hawke moved just past, a hint of stubble scratching against the prince's cheek. Hawke shushed him softly, taking Sebastian in hand firmly, pace too slow after thirteen years of nothing. The whole situation was maddening. Sebastian's breath caught as Hawke disappeared from his field of view, but then hands were on his hips and there was wet heat in little licks along his length.


Sebastian almost didn't want to look down. It would have been too real, or too much, but his eyes were drawn. His body remembered this dance. He wanted to buck into that mouth, to steal that nearly arrogant control from Hawke's grasp. Sebastian was no puppet to simply hand over the reins. Sound tried to fight its way up his throat—pathetic whimpers that would show his lack of command in an arena he was once all too experienced in—but he glanced down to find an infuriating smirk on Hawke's lips, a soft sibilant hushing sound barely reaching Sebastian's ears, but sparking hot lust in the prince's belly as cool air rushed over his slick cock.


It was too much, and Sebastian forgot himself. His fingers weaved through Hawke's hair and pulled tight. The archer could see the change in Hawke's features, mouth going slack and pliant and eyes glazing over, and Maker it was just enough. That sly tongue flattened against Sebastian's tip, dragging over in a slow provocative challenge. It was easy to fall into the rhythm, to tug and guide Hawke down onto him.


The game changed, lips stretched tight, but Sebastian could feel how poorly contained Hawke was. His throat was tight with restrained desire, and Sebastian's breath grew ragged at the thought of the noise the other man was holding back. There was no one that could control Hawke, that could sneak past the defenses that retained what he didn't want others to see. It was within Sebastian's grasp to wring unmasked pleasure from this man and damn if he didn't want it. The archer would stake his soul in the Void if Hawke didn't want him to do it.


In the back of his mind, Sebastian could hear the soft footsteps of passerby just outside the shaded alcove where any of the devout would discover them at a false move, but he couldn't be bothered to care. He tugged on Hawke's hair until they were eye to eye and stole the kiss Hawke at first baited him with. Sebastian's slightly larger frame pushed the other rogue into the wall as he swallowed Hawke's moans, delighting in the hint of his own essence on the man's tongue.


Sebastian's deft hands did their own quick work. Hawke had forgone his complicated armor for simple leathers this day, and—with the sort of confidence the Fereldan had—anticipated driving Sebastian this far. Fingers rough with an archer's calluses found no barrier of smallclothes to stop him, and that Hawke would dare risk exposing himself to another for this game only made Sebastian harder. He pushed fingers into Hawke's mouth where they were welcomed as though they belonged there. That wicked tongue curled around the digits and chased them when Sebastian pulled them away to push them into Hawke's body.


The man was tight for all the activity his flirtation seemed to indicate, and the archer barely held back the groan that bubbled up in his throat. Hawke was not quite prepared enough when Sebastian took his place between the other rogue's legs, but he seemed to relish in the slight burn, giving as much as Sebastian took until their hips were flush together. The pace dissolved at that moment. All of the years of waiting and wanting fueled a desperate race to completion. Sebastian forgot where they were in the sensation.


His hips snapped against Hawke's relentlessly. Tension coiled in the prince's core as they did little more than rut against the stones that built the Chantry. He wouldn't last, but Hawke was no better, spilling between them without a single touch. The beginnings of a moan nearly passed his lips as Sebastian's erratic thrusts drove him harder into the wall. However long they had been there, it seemed too soon that that the archer stilled and filled his partner, leaving Hawke pinned while they caught their breaths.


There was nothing tender about the moment—nothing was tender in their relationship—only soft panting and a wealth of different tension between them. Hawke, as always, pushed his boundaries and ground onto the length still trapped within him through both of them were too sensitive to continue.


Pressed together as they were Sebastian could feel the soft shudders that his breath ghosting across Hawke's ear evoked. The archer was surprised to feel nothing but tired. It had been a confrontation long coming and with the milestone passed they could only move forward. so many of his limits were tested by this man.


"Why do you do this to me?" Sebastian said, barely loud enough for Hawke to hear though neither of them had moved away.


He felt the chuckle shake Hawke's frame, fingers ghosting up Sebastian's sides and never leaving well enough alone, "I should think that was obvious. Do you want me to stop?"


The affection coloring Hawke's tone was belated, but Sebastian didn't doubt it's honesty. He could no longer lie to himself and say that it wasn't mutual. He had always known what game Hawke was playing with him, but he would never tell the smarmy bastard that.


"I should have you arrested," Sebastian said eventually, intent belayed by his lips' own teasing trail over  Hawke's neck. It was truly a stupid weakness that Sebastian had for this man if it could bring back the fiend he once was.


"You won't," Hawke said, sing-song. Sebastian decided that the yelp his harsh pinch drew was entirely worth it.

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This was great. I love your Hawke. XD

Mmmmmmmmm Chantric smut. Your Hawke is such a precocious jerk, I love him, and I loved watching him bring Sebastian to his knees. Metaphorically, anyway. :D

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