homemeless | 001. RAIN MEME

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001. RAIN MEME

caught in the rain

it started out quietly, and then, quite suddenly, you're caught in a storm. Time to find cover. Nothing much to do but to wait it out.

Scenarios listed below for those who want 'em.

i WHERE:
001 PLAYGROUND - Well, you can try to hide under the slide or maybe in the jungle gym... at least you're some place fun?
002 PARK - Always happens, caught outside trying to take advantage of the weather... and it ends up pulling a fast one on you.
003 STORE FRONT - Better hope they have an awning you can take advantage of
004 THE BEACH - Not exactly the best place to be during a rainstorm, however it is possible to get caught in a sudden storm
005 WILD CARD - Anyway you want it

ii HOW:
001 TREE - Not the best cover, but it'll have to do, stay close to the roots and you won't get too wet.
002 UMBRELLA - Most conventional... Kinda boring. But it works.
003 NEWSPAPER - Not permanent, but it'll have to do. Good luck
004 BAG - Well... y'gotta do what you gotta do.
005 NONE - You know what. You're a rebel. You don't need cover. Screw convention
006 WILD CARD - that's the way you need it

iii WHY:
001 REJECTED - Welp. Rejection sucks. And no one will see you crying in the rain.
002 WAITING - For the bus? For someone else? For some revelation? What are you waiting for.
003 MELANCHOLY - Sometimes the best place to feel a bit down is out in the rain.
004 HAPPINESS - Is everything going your way? Are you singing a refrain while walking down the lane? Just singin. Singin' in the rain.
005 ANGER - WELL YOU KNOW WHAT. SCREW YOU TOO RAIN.
006 WILD CARD - Anyway you want it.

>> POST with your character
>> TAG others, use RNG if you need to, or just make up your own scenario if you want!
>> HAVE FUN.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[There's the faintest bit of a smile in Anders' eyes and on his lips at that.]

I did. And I can't say she believed me. I haven't been scolded like that since...

[He shakes his head.]

Your mother is quite the woman. And I'm not arguing with her ever again.

[Oh, his poor friend. No wonder Leandra was so adamant that Anders wasn't eating and Hawke should take better care of his friends. He sighs a bit, shifting against that tree, his arm moving against Anders' own before he brought his hand up to rub as his temples.]

You can't win. You aren't eating enough, you don't give the dog the attention he needs, you aren't even trying to give me grandchildren... [He shook his head, bringing his arm down, idly letting it simply rest over Anders' own.]

She's always been quite... Fiery. [Carver took after her in that regard, Bethany too though she didn't quite have the same fervour. He missed them both. Discussions like this were always bittersweet.]

[Anders' voice gets a little sympathetic, even as Hawke's arm winds up being a bit distracting.]

There are some things you simply cannot win, Hawke. Mothers fall into that category. Card games against Isabela do too. [There's a short pause.] Mind, I'm not complaining about your mother. It's simply... different to be confronted by someone determined to care. And scrutinizing your appearance hard enough to likely know what size everything you wear, down to the hair tie.

If she looked over someone that directly in Antiva she'd be wed again, or so I hear.

[Hawke's arm remained on Anders', his hand moving to absent-mindedly pat the back of Anders's own.]

It's in her nature to care... I suppose it's one of the things I inherit from her.

[After the loss of both Carver and Bethany it seemed that his mother had turned her attention to Hawke's companions. Anders didn't eat enough, Fenris and Merrill needed shoes, Isabela looked as though she could use a sweater, Aveline could use a night out be a dear and invite her over, Garrett... Sometimes it seemed only Varric managed to dodge her mothering instinct. And Sebastian. Perhaps his mother assumed the Grand Cleric mothered him enough. He offers up a bit of a smile, eyes still settled on his friend.]

But with luck, this rain will start letting up shortly. If you think she's concerned now, wait until you see how she behaves when someone enters the estate looking like a drowned rat.

[Anders leans his head back against the tree, no longer looking over at Hawke, as his hand is patted. He's bad at bluffing, bad at hiding things on his face sometimes, and he doesn't want to disrupt this moment, no matter how one-sided it is.]

I'd say it's definitely one of the things you inherited. Stubbornness too, but that can be a good trait.

[And really, Leandra isn't so far off on Anders' account. A Grey Warden metabolism, combined with running a free Clinic that barely made enough in donations to afford vials and bandages, meant that Anders did go to bed hungry as often as not. He can feel Hawke's eyes on his face and Anders wishes sometimes that he had the courage to squeeze the man's hand back.]

I'll blame the mabari. Tell her he attacked me and drooled all over me. She'll never believe it, but it might spare me from a lecture.

[Hawke can only let out a tisk, shaking his head as he settles back against the tree with Anders, not yet moving his hand.]

Moses wouldn't do that to you, Anders. Even he knows better than to invoke her wrath - and attacking my apostate house guests in a fury of drool is hardly becoming of him.

[Despite the mabari's tendency to do dignified things such as roll around in filth, eat cockroaches and steal socks, he knew better than to force affection on Hawke's companions.

...Except for that one time he decided he was decidedly smaller than he was and tried to curl up in Sebastian's lap during a thunderstorm.]

Let's just wait here and hope that it lets up soon... So that you don't need to blame my dog for your state.

[The temptation to move his thumb, move anything, and rub Hawke's hand is nearly overpowering, but the cost would likely be Hawke moving his hand away at best. All the same, Anders can't help but move his hand once, slightly, making his fingers fit better into the man's touch.]

He does like drooling. That's an undeniable fact. Though I'll behave and not get Moses in trouble. I don't hate him, though there's just so much... dog to him. Too much.

[Waiting with Hawke and just Hawke. That doesn't happen very often, and for as much as Anders likes some of the others, he prefers this. Even with its just-out-of-reach temptations.]

I'll likely look bedraggled no matter what we do, but waiting it out's a good idea. I'll drip less on the floors.

Bedraggled, perhaps - but ever what will I do if my healer catches a cold?

[He turns his gaze skyward again, dark clouds unrelenting in their downpour. He keeps the contact with Anders' hand, a part of him perhaps enjoying the contact - though he doesn't make any mention of it, nor does he do anything to indicate wanting it to end.]

Certainly can't have that, can we? I won't be having any adventures at all with you out of commission.

[My healer. Hawke's healer. Sure, it isn't like there are people lining up for the title, but there's a slight possessiveness there that makes Anders feel a tiny bit warmer despite the wet all around.]

You'd scold me, no doubt. Or send your mother to do so. And threaten me with being sat on by the dog. If I'm entirely unlucky, have the dog sit on me while Bodahn force-feeds me soup. I'd like to pass on that. If I'm to be force-fed something, I'd like it to be by someone attractive so I get to be distracted while I'm miserable.

[Anders looks up too, shifting against the tree to see and using the excuse to slide his thumb along the side of Hawke's hand.]

I'm sure you'll make do without me. You did before you met me, after all. But I can assure you I've no intentions of winding up out of commission. I don't do well with resting and taking time off.

But if you were... You would prefer someone attractive to feed you?

[Hawke's gaze turns back to Anders, raising an eyebrow as his mouth formed a smirk. That wasn't the only thing that curled though, his fingers lacing with Anders' own.]

I'm certain that could be arranged... [A short pause-] Sandal is rather fond of you. Finds you quite enchanting.

[Anders swallows, looking down at their hands before he dares to look back up at Hawke. It's just some sort of reassurance or teasing, he knows it. This is Hawke, after all. When isn't there teasing?

He gives Hawke a faint smile at the joke, leaning his head back against the tree. Expected follow-up, right on cue.]

As interesting as the boy is, he doesn't exactly fall under my definition of attractive. Unless you're suggesting him sit on my chest in place of the dog, and someone else feeding me. Then it would probably be rather effective. Just remind him that there's no 'boom' in soup.

[All the same, despite the teasing, Anders does the stupid thing and closes his fingers around Hawke's. He can play it off somehow, he's sure. He'll find a way. Maybe he can blame his hands getting cold; everyone knows hands are important to a healer.]

That is precisely why my mother keeps him out of the kitchen now.

[Hawke's eyes glanced at their hands and then quickly back up to Anders' face, as though trying to pretend he didn't notice the way the mage's fingers closed around his. He's been responding favourably so far, it was time to up the ante, just a bit.]

But you've piqued my interest, you know. I'm curious... What do you find attractive? I realize you prefer the person over their body but... There must be some features you find appealing?

[Anders is quiet for a few moments, working to get his thoughts in order. He could wind up driving Hawke away with this, wind up entirely rejected, and Anders treasures their friendship far too much to want to see Hawke walk away. But the man's asking while holding his hand. If ever there was a time to take a risk...]

Dark hair. I've been with people with fair hair before, that's not an exclusive thing, but I'm primarily drawn to dark hair. The ability to smile even when things aren't precisely going well, and joke back with me. Deeper voices in men, voices that aren't too high in women.

[His gaze flickers toward Hawke for a moment before he continues.]

Beards on the men. Callouses on their hands, from plow or blade.

[There's a pause during which Anders deliberately doesn't look at Hawke, doesn't chance it, because he knows exactly how much he likes what he sees.]

...And you?

[Hawke just keeps his eyes on Anders, even if the man isn't looking at him. It's hard to take his eyes off the man. Here in the rain, hands together, it was difficult to suppress those feelings that found themselves rising up.]

I'm perhaps the opposite... [He muses over the a moment, inclining his head a bit, still watching his friend - or rather, looking at him, at each of his features.] I prefer fair hair. Fair hair and high cheekbones. A strong nose as well, nothing too dainty. A smile is certainly key though - something sweet, perhaps a touch lopsided when they so happen to be embarrassed...

[He keeps things a bit vague intentionally. Women were delightful, he'd been attracted to quite a number of them over the years but it was a man who had his attention now. A man who'd had it for some time now.]

Hands... I prefer a bit of a bit of a softer touch. Deft but not delicate.

[He's not reading too much into it. He can't be, not with how Hawke's watching him and talking. Otherwise this would be cruel, and Hawke's not cruel. It's been so long since Anders last had hope that it takes a moment for him to recognize it for what it is. Once he does, though, he turns, his eyes searching Hawke's. For once he doesn't see a joke there.

There's so much Anders could say and he has no idea where to start, finally lifting his free hand and touching Hawke's beard the way he's fantasized about, fingertips scraped by the bristles there.]

How deft, Hawke?

[His gaze drops to Hawke's lips even as he realizes his are dry and licks them.]

[That hand was all it took for Hawke to crane his neck, leaning into Anders' touch, rubbing his beard lightly against his friend's hand and encouraging him to continue. There was no joke in his eyes, no teasing, no poor attempt at humour. He's earnest, watching Anders closely as he swallows, finding his own throat going dry at the sight of the mage wetting his lips.]

These ones... Are perfect.

[This could all go wrong. It will all go wrong, somehow, because it's his life and he knows how things go. But as Hawke calls his hands perfect Anders finds he doesn't care how badly the future will go. Anders leans in, hungrily kissing the lips he's been eyeing. He doesn't even care that he's already breathing heavily. Hawke's interested, he has to be with the way he shifted the conversation, and Anders has never wanted someone as much as he wants Hawke.]

[Those greedy, hungry lips are met with Hawke's own pressing firmly against them, breath catching in his throat. This was what he had been waiting for, the moment when Anders finally could hold back no longer. Hawke's mouth eagerly returns Anders kiss, eyes falling shut as he takes in the feeling and savours the taste of the lips he'd been seeking.

Oh, how he wished he'd done this sooner.]

[Anders groans into the kiss. His fingers go from Hawke's beard to tangle in his hair, exploring and lightly pulling. When he finally breaks for air all he can do for a few seconds is catch his breath while drinking in the sight of Hawke's face at this moment.]

You.

[His voice is quiet when he speaks.]

You're everything I find appealing, Hawke, personality and body both, and I don't want to go any longer without you knowing that. But I'm an apostate, a possessed apostate, and I can give you little other than more risk.

[It's a moment after that kiss is broken that Hawke finally opens his eyes, allowing them to come into focus upon Anders' face as he catches his breath. He watches the man, letting the rush from his kiss subside, listening to his friend's words and the concerns he voices.]

I shall take that under advisement...

[The hand that was still holding Anders' own releases, slipping away. Anders is right - he is a possessed apostate, a danger to be around. Yet Hawke just moves in closer again, reaching over and brushing his middle and index fingers across the bridge of Anders' nose. His fingers streak a few stray droplets of rain along it and to his cheek, mirroring the red war paint that's smeared across his own.]

But you know how difficult it is for me to resist an adventure.

[For a horrible heartbeat everything goes into slow motion, Hawke listening, agreeing, and letting go of his hand. But before it can sink in and hurt, Hawke is moving toward him instead of away. The touch on Anders' nose gets him breathing again, mind filling with relief. The movement doesn't escape him, either. He knows that smear, has seen Hawke's fingers make it.

Anders reaches up and brings those fingers to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to each fingertip.]

One of the many reasons I follow where you lead.

[He hesitates then, though.]

I leave the choice in your hands if you want more of... of me, or not. I'll not leave your side, either way.

[Slipping around to the back of Anders' head, Hawke's hand began to stroke through the loose strands of blond hair that settled there, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the end of Anders' nose. It was gentle, contrasting the fervour of the kiss they'd shared earlier but just like that kiss, it was earnest and wanting.]

We have many more adventures ahead of us... And I want you here, with me, through each and every one of them.

[Craning his neck a bit, Hawke rest his forehead against Anders' own, noses touching as he met his companion's eyes.]

Let's call off this little bet of ours, Anders. This rain won't be stopping any time soon - we should make a break for it, return to my estate... And warm ourselves at the fireside.

[Turning his head, Hawke pressed a kiss beside Anders' mouth, lips moving against his skin as he spoke] Together.

[The touches, the kisses, they're what he's dreamed of and more, and Anders can hardly believe they're happening and it shows in his eyes. But even better are Hawke's words, his assurances. With Hawke, together... Anders turns his head to press a far more chaste kiss to Hawke's lips.]

Where you go, there I will be, Hawke. Through days of adventure and rare days of respite.

[With the beginnings of that crooked smile on his lips, Anders takes the hand that's not currently in his hair.]

A break for it, then. And then the fireside.

[He tugs the hand, ready to dash, and now his smile is fully there.]

[Giving Anders' hand a squeeze, Hawke can do little else but look fondly at that lopsided smile of the man he adores. After so long, it will be good to finally be able to properly hold him in his arms, kiss him tenderly and enjoy a quiet moment at his side. Just being with Anders is all Hawke has wanted and something he's wanted for some time. Being able to truly reach out and take hold of it makes his heart skip a bit, sighing lightly against Anders' face.

He'll save telling his mother she won't be having grandchildren for another time. He returns Anders' chaste kiss and lightly butts his forehead against the other man's.]

On the count of three then. One... Two... Three-!

[And with that, Hawke dashes away from the cover of the tree, holding Anders' hand as they run through the rain.]

[At this rate Anders is nearly convinced he's going to wake up. This is entirely a dream, except he can feel things, the cold, the way Hawke's lips yield and beard scratches, and that's like no dream he's ever had. Somehow Hawke's interested, as interested as Anders, and the mage can't quite wrap his head around it.

His heart's in his throat as they start to run, Hawke's hand in his, how did that even start to happen? Has Hawke been interested this whole time and Anders just missed it? ...Does it really matter, since he can't change it?

The raindrops are cold and heavy when they hit him in the face and Anders couldn't care less. People wind up staring as two rain-blurred forms dash past and he doesn't care either. Let them stare. Let them comment. It doesn't matter, because he's with Hawke.

By the time they're at the estate he's soaked to the skin and out of breath and Anders can't recall a time when he's felt happier. He shakes his head at Hawke. The things the man makes him feel again...]

You go through the door first. I may be drenched but none of it is dog-slobber and I'd like to keep it that way.

001. RAIN MEME

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