Chapter Text
Fenris was tired and cold and had decided that he really hated the Wounded Coast. The salted air that wafted in from the Waking Sea was freezing, more so than usual. The one shining light in this ridiculous trip that Marian Hawke had dragged him on was his mate beside him.
Anders was dozing next to him where they were curled up naked in their tent. Although the mage had only been a wolf for a few short months, he had mastered the shifts and extreme emotions with the same determination that he applied to everything else, whether it was the patients in his clinic or the writing of his manifesto.
Leaning down to press a kiss to the mage's shoulder blade, Fenris smiled as he thought about their relationship. It had been a rocky start, filled with arguments and snapping of teeth and broken wine bottles when they had turned to violence, but Fenris always waited for Anders to return, and when he did, they whispered their apologies and curled up together in their bed. Such incidents were becoming less common as they settled into mutual domesticity.
Now though, Anders hummed appreciatively under Fenris's lips and arched up into the simple touch. Anders was always more feline than anything else, which amused Fenris to no end. He smiled at the thought and nuzzled into the man's back, gliding a hand down his pale side.
"I was sleeping," Anders murmured, the words tinged with amusement.
"Liar," Fenris chuckled as his lips curled up into a grin.
"Are you going to make it up to me?"
"Are you asking me to, mage?"
"Well, it wouldn't hurt, would it?" Anders grinned against the pale forearm that he had been using as a pillow.
Fenris laughed softly, not wanting to wake Hawke and Varric in the other tent. He surged up and nipped at the mating bite on the back of Anders's neck, revelling in the gentle moan it got him. Anders stretched out as far as the tent would allow and Fenris moved to straddle the backs of his thighs, smoothing his hands down the expanse of skin in front of him.
"I had a dream..." Anders muttered, a strain in his voice that had Fenris worried.
"Oh?" He tried to make light of his concern but he didn't doubt that the mage had heard it anyway.
"It was, uh... We... Maker, it's just stupid, carry on."
"I can multi-task. Tell me, else I'll have to pull it from you some other way."
Fenris pressed his fingertips against the mage's hole, just rubbing without entering. He loved the way Anders's breath caught in his throat at the action and carried on as he kissed his way slowly down the long spine of his mate.
"Fuck, Fenris..." Anders moaned softly, pressing his hips back to try and get something more.
"Tell me," the elf ordered, dipping one fingertip into the mage very briefly.
"Fuck, w-we had a baby, a little wolf, a cub a-and I..."
Fenris stopped his movements, fingers against Anders's ass and lips hovering over his skin. He remembered his own dream from months ago, before he and Anders had mated. Since then, the dream had all but vanished from his nightly Fade visits. Clearly it had moved onto Anders instead. Anders seemed to take his pause as anger or something similar because he started babbling.
"I mean, it's not-- I wouldn't, I mean-- I know that we can't and it would be dangerous even if we did, because of just who we are and-- Oh..." Anders moaned softly as Fenris pushed a finger into him and nipped at the bumps of his vertebrae where he was still too thin.
"Is that what you want, Anders?" he purred as he moved further down. "You want me to fill you with my cubs?"
Anders bit into the flesh of his arm to muffle his moan, but Fenris could feel the rumble of it under his lips. Anders let loose a plaintive little whimper and spread his legs awkwardly. Fenris lifted himself off the mage's thighs in order to allow him to arrange himself. Fenris would never deny that his mage made a pretty picture when he was desperate; ass up, knees spread wide and a cheek pressed into whatever surface they were using was damn near irresistible and Anders knew it.
"Yes," he admitted after a moment.
Fenris hummed thoughtfully as he grasped at his mate's cheeks, spreading them to look at his flushed pink hole. "I'm going to stuff you with my seed until it can't do anything but take, until your belly is swollen with child, my child. Our child."
"Please, Fenris, please, need it, need you," Anders whimpered, arching his spine in submission.
Fenris pressed a kiss to Anders's hole, chuckling slightly at the shaking breath. The thought of Anders swollen with child was far more attractive than he imagined it would be, both sexually and emotionally.
"Hurry, please," Anders begged. "Still open from this morning, please."
Grabbing the oil that always sat on top of the pile of their clothes, Fenris pushed three fingers into Anders with only the slightest resistance. It always amazed him just how long Anders would stay loose for, and he loved it. There was something so perfect about Anders remaining ready for him at any time of the day, for his cock only. Anders moaned and pushed back to try and fuck himself on the fingers there. Fenris could feel his own cock throbbing with need and desire. There was the need to fuck, the need to claim, but also the desire to hold his mate, to remind him that he was loved.
"Roll over," he growled as he pulled his fingers free and coated his cock with the remaining oil.
Anders scrambling to do as he was told and was on his back within moments, eyes wide as he looked up at the elf, lips swollen and parted as he dragged breath into his lungs. Fenris settled himself over the mage and kissed him softly while he pulled bony knees over his own thighs.
"Please," Anders whispered, the word fanning his lips sweetly.
Fenris kissed him again and positioned himself to push in, supporting himself on his elbows while his fingers tangled in long blond hair. Their movements were slow, gentle, the rocking of their hips in tune with the desperate press of their lips.
It wasn't long - an embarrassingly short time - before Fenris's hips were stuttering with how close he was, but Anders was right there too. The intensity was simply too much, the love and desire and need too strong. Fenris forced himself to hold on for a little longer, just so he could at least see the look on Anders's face when he reached his pleasure.
"So beautiful," Fenris murmured, because it was simply true.
"Fenris, I--" Anders gasped as he groaned and shuddered through his orgasm, his seed splattering over his own stomach.
Fenris followed after only another moment, pushing his length as far inside of Anders as he could, as if he could really get the other wolf pregnant. While he caught his breath, he mouthed at the delicate line of Anders's collarbone.
"My mate," he growled softly.
"All yours," Anders promised with a sleepy smile.
Fenris pulled out slowly, careful not to hurt him. Anders whined quietly and pouted, making Fenris chuckle softly; the mage was far too fond of trying to sleep with the elf's length still inside of him, even if they both moved too much in the night to keep it there. Not for lack of trying, of course.
Before he lay down and pulled the mage into his arms, Fenris leaned down to press a kiss to the expanse of skin between his pointy hips, where a child would grow if such a thing were possible. The ache in his chest was poignant; at that moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to see his mate round and happy with their cub inside of him. When he looked up at Anders, it was clear that the mage was thinking exactly the same thing if his sad smile was anything to go by.
They lay together and there was nothing else in the whole of Thedas but them and the baby that existed solely in their minds.