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bluerose5 · 2 years

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The Charlatan and the Crow

I did the thing. Is this the most indulgent fic I’ve ever written? Probably, but you know what? I enjoyed writing it (if you can’t tell by the word count 😭).

Pairing: Zevran/Reyes (yes, i went there with this)

Word count: 6,467

Rating: M (some sexual content, but it doesn’t get explicit)

Also on ao3!

~~~

Even if he was Antivan through and through, returning to Llomerryn after so long always felt like a sort of homecoming to Zevran.

The place was a marvel, truly, and The Polished Gem was one of the best —if not the best— establishments around. It was a neutral ground. A haven that offered the finest food, rooms, and entertainment in all of Rivain.

Of course, like most other establishments in the area, it was a front for its true purpose.

Its owner, Kian, was associated with some very powerful people. One in particular, who was of interest to Zevran.

As soon as Zevran approached the bar, his face cast in the shadows of his hooded cloak, Kian peered at him closely before he broke out into a wide grin.

"Well, well, well…" Kian drawled, his arms crossed over his chest. "Long time, no see, stranger."

Zevran scoffed under his breath.

While warm light emanated throughout the main floor, loud, boisterous laughs cut through the constant thrum of activity. Drinks clinked together, often interrupted by the giggles of the establishment's "hosts" and "hostesses."

After glancing around to ward off any eavesdroppers, Zevran leaned in, his head ducked low as he whispered, “Is he here?”

“Is who here?” Kian countered.

Zevran’s responding glare could pierce through dragonbone. He tapped his fingers atop the bar, ignoring the urge to pick at the loose splinters of wood.

“Do you think he would appreciate it if I went around, shouting a dead man’s name from the rooftops?” Zevran cocked his head to the side, pretending to seriously consider it. “I mean, I guess if it is the only way to gain his attention…”

As Zevran pushed away from the bar, Kian sighed, rolling his eyes at the Crow.

“No need to get so testy, old friend.” Kian took a rag and started to clean off some of the suspicious stains coating the bar. Of course, he couldn’t leave his precious pride and joy too dirty for long. “He’s out at the moment, but he should be back soon. Bet he’d love to see you again. Tell me, what’s the visit for this time? Business? Pleasure? A little bit of both?”

“I fail to see how it is any of your business.”

“Fine then.” Kian shrugged. “Just for that, I’m not giving you the key. Try to pick the locks to his room.” He nodded pointedly in the direction of the stairs. “We both know how that ended last time.”

“It was one time,” Zevran huffed, “and I was drunk!”

A rogue breaks their lockpicking tools one time while trying to show off, and people never let them forget it.

Kian simply raised a brow at him, skeptical.

“Right…” he said, turning to his other customers. A clear sign of dismissal, if there ever was one. “Good luck!”

How his boss put up with him, Zevran would never understand.

Still, that meant that he had work to do.

With a grumble, Zevran maneuvered his way through the crowded tavern. He had to dodge more than his fair share of heavy punches, tempers threatening to boil over as the night wore on. Drinks kept on flowing, and cards were being thrown out with larger bets at stake.

It was only expected for a brawl to break out soon, only for things to return to business as usual when the dust finally settled.

By the time Zevran reached the stairs, conversations were growing heated, each voice increasing in volume until it was impossible to determine who was saying what.

As soon as the first punch was thrown, Zevran smirked to himself, shaking his head in fond amusement.

Oh, Llomerryn…

How he missed the lawlessness, the indulgent atmosphere.

An expensive glass went sailing through the air, shattering against the wall beside Zevran’s head with a splash of liquor. Careful of the remaining shards, he escaped to the second floor, chuckling when he heard Kian cry out in protest.

The instant he entered the corridor above, the telltale sounds of eager moans and smacking skin greeted him. To the right, he knew there to be a hall that contained several luxurious rooms where the hosts and hostesses could entertain their guest —or guests— of the evening.

It reminded Zevran so much of home.

But to the left is where the illustrious leader of the Collective resided.

Not to be confused with the Mages’ Collective, this was the Collective. A group of rather flexible individuals stationed throughout Thedas who provided services at a cost. Services including but not limited to information, stealth, assassinations, and smuggling.

The group that was led by the infamous Charlatan himself.

Of course, that was what everyone else knew him as.

To Zevran, however, he knew him as no other than Reyes Vidal.

Zevran was one of the few people who knew him from before the Collective. Back then, when they first met, Reyes was a pirate captain, new to the scene yet causing enough waves to garner unwanted attention. That earned him an enemy or two, to say the least.

More than one of which was willing to pay to take him out of the picture.

Zevran once told the Warden that his first hit had been a Rivaini merchant prince.

Well, that might have been a lie.

The Rivaini part was true enough, but Reyes was far from being some big influential trader at the time. That wasn’t the kind of job the Crows typically sent a rookie to handle.

No, Reyes was new to the position of power aboard his ship. He had taken over as captain after his mother’s passing, so he still had a lot to learn. What connections he did have at the time were feeble at best, lest he proved himself a formidable opponent to others.

To some, Reyes was just enough of a threat —or a nuisance, as the case may be— to get rid of him early on. To take advantage of the opportunity after the ship’s long-respected captain was dead, leaving her ship and all of its crew and resources ripe for the taking.

Her ashes weren’t even cold yet when Zevran took the job.

If he had been “young and foolish” on his second mission with the mage, as he explained it to the Warden, then his first mission was a complete and utter disaster.

It was the first and only time, aside from the Warden, that Zevran’s target walked away alive.

As Zevran ventured down the hall that led to Reyes’s room, he could recall that day unlike any other.

He dropped to his knees before the door, tools in hand, and set to work.

Distracted as he was, Zevran knew that this attempt to lockpick could only end in disaster, yet he couldn’t help it.

All he could think about was meeting that cocky bastard, suave and charming, adorned in a delectable array of ink and jewels alike.

Zevran had been insufferably arrogant back then, even more so than at present. Reyes played his part well, indulging Zevran each time he flirted, responding to any witty banter in kind.

It would be all too easy, Zevran thought, to seduce him and have him invite Zevran back to the captain’s quarters aboard his ship. Then, when he was at his most vulnerable, Zevran would strike.

Unfortunately for Zevran, he made a fatal mistake, one that he learned to never repeat.

He neglected to do his research.

Had Zevran looked further into his target’s past, he would have known that not only was Reyes the son of a Rivaini pirate, but he was also the son of a former Antivan Crow.

Safe to say, he knew them. Reyes knew exactly what to look out for, and so he had Zevran pegged the instant he walked into that tavern.

Reyes invited him back to his ship, luring him in with secretive smiles and enchanting eyes.

Of course, they did end up sleeping together. That much was a given.

But the last thing Zevran had expected was to have the tables turned on him at the last second.

He didn’t even have time to gain his bearings before Reyes brandished a dagger seemingly out of thin air, bringing its hilt down against his head.

Everything went dark after that.

Much like his capture with the Warden, Zevran awoke in restraints, doing his damnedest to charm his way out of the rather sticky situation he had gotten himself into.

After much bargaining and back-and-forth, they eventually reached a compromise.

Turns out, the operation that Reyes had in mind for his future didn’t exactly line up with a life out at sea. Not until he was more confident with his skills and his resources.

So, he was more than happy to disappear from the public eye, to let everyone —especially the Crows— believe that he had perished as intended.

In exchange for the illusion of a successful mission, along with his release, Zevran would simply be one of Reyes’s agents. Nothing to put him at odds with his life as a Crow. All Reyes wanted was a bit of information from time to time, should he need it.

When faced with the possibility of death as an alternative, how could Zevran possibly refuse?

They parted in agreement; and eventually, Reyes built his Collective into a force to be reckoned with.

Even if the Crows did find out the Charlatan’s true identity, Reyes had enough resources at his disposal to prove to be a challenging opponent, even against them.

The one thing about their continued partnership that Zevran couldn’t wrap his head around was the need for them to always meet each other in person.

After all, they both only met because of an assassination attempt. All logic or reason would suggest that they should stay as far away from each other as possible. For the type of information that Zevran provided, he could have just as easily provided it through correspondence. Letters would have more than sufficed for the purpose of their relationship.

Yet Zevran did not refuse when Reyes invited him to meet in Llomerryn.

In the beginning, they typically met on run-down docks or in dirty alleyways.

Then, The Polished Gem came into being, and Reyes had himself a new base of operations with multiple associates to act as his front.

Sometimes, Zevran would think that he was through with the man, only to be drawn back in by one mundane task or another.

They truly were two of a kind. The types who held their affections close to their chests. The types to say whatever it was that people needed to hear to fall into their trap.

Zevran often reflected on the times that Reyes pulled such stunts with him, filling his mind with honeyed words and promises of freeing him of the Crows.

Then again, Zevran never expected him to fulfill such promises, not whenever Reyes spoke of such commitments in the context of Zevran remaining at his side.

And Zevran… couldn’t do that.

Maybe Reyes had considered him to be more at one point. Maybe Zevran once felt the same way, too, but Zevran wasn’t too keen on leaving the Crows back then, especially not when he had both Rinna and Taliesen to think of.

Either way, any relationship of theirs beyond having a good time was sure to end in disaster.

For the longest, he thought that they were too much alike yet somehow too different at the same time.

Every moment stolen with Reyes felt like they were tempting fate, as deadly of a combination as oil and fire.

Then again, maybe that was what made them great. The intensity, the chemistry.

Now, with no Crows and no Rinna and no Taliesen…

Zevran scowled when his first set of tools broke.

“Damn it,” he swore, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

This time, he shook away such thoughts. He forced himself to pay attention.

His concentration was intense, focused.

When the lock finally gave way, Zevran released a sigh of relief.

He got to his feet, brushed himself off; and as he settled his hand upon the door, it started to ease open with a creak.

The noise was loud enough to conceal the footsteps behind him. By the time Zevran sensed the other’s presence, it was already too late.

Zevran’s hand darted out to retrieve the dagger at his belt, but his opponent was already one step ahead of him. His wrist was caught in a vice-like grip, instantly wrenched into place behind his back.

Shoved against the wall, Zevran grunted when his other hand was captured as well, restrained alongside the other within his captor’s grasp.

He would have started struggling, but then he heard that Maker-forsaken voice.

“My, my, what do we have here?” Reyes asked. Shoving the fabric of his hood aside, he whispered directly into Zevran’s ear. The latter resisted the shiver that threatened to shoot down his spine, refusing to give Reyes the satisfaction. “You know, some people around these parts consider breaking and entering a crime punishable by death.”

To emphasize his words, Zevran felt the tip of a dagger press into his back. There wasn’t enough pressure to harm, just enough to get Reyes’s warning across.

Not that Zevran bought the act for a single second, smirking smugly to himself.

“Lucky for me, you’re not one of those people.”

“Oh, aren’t I?”

“Nope,” Zevran said, pretty damn confident for a man with a blade to his back. “At least not with me. I mean, could you truly imagine a world without Zevran Arainai around to brighten your day?”

Reyes snorted, releasing him for a split second, long enough to grab Zevran by his shoulder to turn him in place. Once they faced one another, Reyes eyed him from head to toe, his appraisal thorough.

His dagger bit into the skin beneath Zevran’s chin, but the Crow made no move to oppose him, arching his throat with a heavy swallow.

“You know,” Reyes told him, “those words would hold more weight, had you actually been around these past couple of years.” Zevran grimaced. “You ignore my letters, you run off on some idiotic suicide mission, and then you show up at my base of operations without any sort of warning, trying to break into my quarters. Tell me, how should I respond to a situation like that?”

“So, what?” Zevran retorted, meeting his glare with one of his own. “Are you going to kill me now? We both know that if you wanted me dead, I already would be. After all —and I mean this with great respect for your skill— you’re the type to stab someone in the back while they’re most vulnerable.”

Reyes considered that, then shrugged.

“What can I say? I’m an opportunist,” he agreed, “but this—” The flat of his blade trailed down the length of Zevran’s throat, soon following the expanse of his chest between them. His voice lowered into an enticing whisper. “This is personal.”

While Reyes watched his dagger forge its path, it didn’t take long for him to notice that Zevran had fallen uncharacteristically quiet. When he glanced up, Zevran’s gaze darted away from his lips, and their eyes met.

They exchanged a heated silence, one fraught with tension.

Neither one of them could honestly say who started to lean in first, only that they gravitated towards each other as if it was second nature to them.

Warm breaths caressed their lips, only a hair’s width away.

Before Reyes could even figure out what had happened, Zevran had swiped his weapon from his grasp, giving it a critical look before he tossed it aside. It clattered uselessly to the floor, neither one of them paying it any mind.

Zevran wrapped his arms around Reyes’s shoulders, tugging him closer.

Giving him a quick once-over, Zevran hummed in appreciation.

"Your hair is shorter," he noted with a hint of loss. His fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of Reyes’s neck, which never failed to make him squirm a little.

Reyes chuckled in amusement.

"Oh, don't tell me you miss the ponytail," he groaned, embarrassed. "Or the goatee! By the gods, what was younger me thinking?"

"That you were quite handsome!" Zevran exclaimed in protest. "That you had men and women alike falling at your feet."

"Now, you're just flattering me."

"It's not flattery, if it's true."

"Mm-hmm…" As their lips brushed, Reyes caught sight of a glint of light. His eyes were immediately drawn to the spot over Zevran’s shoulder, his entire body tensing in response. Before Zevran could ask about it, Reyes's expression darkened. He put some distance between them, held Zevran out at arm's length. "Zevran, tell me, why are you here?"

Zevran gestured pointedly at the corridor they were still in.

"Do you really want to have this discussion out in the open?" When Reyes sighed, Zevran took him by the hand, tugging him along into Reyes’s quarters. "Thought not."

Closing the door behind them, Zevran slid the lock into place.

When he turned around, Reyes was already busy taking off his leather armor, setting his pack down onto the table near the fire. Zevran watched him move around the spacious room with ease, resting his weight against the doorframe.

Reyes certainly wasn't as… flashy as Zevran remembered. Of course, he was still as vibrant and handsome as ever, but he had sacrificed a lot of his old jewels and piercings that he used to have in order to blend in.

Laying low in the shadows apparently didn't work all that well when one flaunted their wealth.

His tattoos still peeked out from underneath his clothing, a welcome sight for sore eyes.

Zevran thought it was nice to find something familiar when all else seemed to have changed.

By the time Reyes had dressed down, all he was left in was a white, linen shirt, along with some dark, form-fitting pants and leather boots. The neckline of his shirt plunged sinfully deep, revealing glimpses of his chest that inevitably caught one's eye.

Zevran couldn't help but watch, transfixed, as Reyes rolled up his sleeves with sharp tugs, revealing even more ink upon his skin.

Within the blink of an eye, Zevran had crossed the room to where Reyes was standing. His fingers caressed the exposed skin of his arms, unable to resist, causing Reyes to tense for a brief moment before relaxing into his touch.

"Too much?" Zevran questioned, refusing to push his luck where he was not wanted, but Reyes didn't even hesitate.

"Nowhere near enough," he breathed, peering at Zevran over his shoulder. "I must admit, I did not expect to see you again."

"Is it really so surprising that I returned?" Zevran asked, brow furrowed. He pressed himself flush against Reyes’s back, his hand trailing down further until their fingers were intertwined.

Reyes swallowed thickly, unable to meet his eyes.

"What else was I supposed to think?" Reyes murmured. Lifting Zevran’s hand up to his lips, he brushed a kiss along each knuckle. "When you take a contract out on the Grey Wardens, when you swear yourself into their service to help fight the Blight, what am I supposed to think?"

Reyes dropped his hand as if it was on fire, storming free of his embrace. He stoked the flames in the fireplace, then plopped down into one of the chairs surrounding his table, head cradled in his hand.

Zevran followed him with his gaze, lips pursed.

"Never thought that I would see the day," Zevran mused. "Reyes Vidal, concerned for someone other than himself."

If looks could kill, then Zevran would be reduced to little more than a pile of bones and ashes.

As Zevran stepped forward to take a seat across from Reyes, he settled in with little effort.

With a slump of his posture, Reyes continued to stare unseeingly into the fire nearby. It crackled and swayed, emitting a warm glow that washed over them.

Reyes eventually turned back to Zevran. He reached out to rummage through his pack, soon emerging with a bottle of liquor, along with a couple of Kian's sturdier glasses.

"I was worried, yes," Reyes stated. After he pulled the stopper on the bottle, he poured them both a generous portion. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"It never hurts to know for certain."

When Reyes slid a glass across the table, Zevran deftly caught it. He swirled the contents around in slow, even circles, eyeing it curiously.

"Brandy," Reyes explained, "imported from Antiva, of course."

"And stolen from Kian's personal reserves, no doubt," Zevran added, to which Reyes smirked.

"Well, how else am I supposed to impress my guest on such short notice when Kian announces that I have a visitor as soon as I walk through the door?" Reyes asked.

"So you were already planning on sharing a drink with me before you decided to hold your blade at my throat." Zevran said, referring to the whole spectacle that happened in the hall. With a shake of his head, he chuckled. "What a tease."

Reyes’s lips quirked up at the corners in spite of himself, but the smile didn't last long.

On principle, Zevran waited for him to take a drink from his glass before sipping from his own.

He savored the sight burn as the brandy slid smoothly down his throat.

Reyes went back and forth with himself, considering how best to broach the subject that’s been on his mind.

“I—” He took a deep breath, steeling himself mentally. “What I can’t understand is this. Why did you not feel as if you could come here when you were in trouble?”

“Seriously?” Zevran clenched his jaw, working through the tension. He raised an eyebrow at him skeptically. “You want to talk about this now?”

Reyes spread his arms out on display, leaning back in his chair.

“Why not?” he asked, staring at Zevran over the rim of his glass. “Since you would apparently trust some—” He waved his hands emphatically while he spoke. “Some stranger to keep you safe before you would even consider coming to me for help.”

“Is that what this is about?” Zevran snapped, going on the defensive. “You’re jealous, so that’s somehow my issue, hm?”

Reyes glared.

Downing his drink in one go, he slammed the glass down onto the table. He leaned back into his seat again and dragged his hands over his face with a sharp bark of laughter.

“Oh, that’s real rich coming from you,” Reyes ranted. “I never once complained about you sleeping around, or you being with Rinna or Taliesen. I never once had a problem with any of that; and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that they’re gone. But, deep down, I guess I always knew where I stood with you. I don’t expect anything from anyone more than they’re willing to give. That’s a page I took from your book, by the way, and I know now that I will always be second choice for you, no matter what.”

Zevran winced at such sharp, cutting words, more so surprised that they had such an effect on himself.

“That’s not tru—”

Before he could properly interrupt, Reyes continued on, keeping his momentum going.

“Ah, but it is true. If it isn’t, then start acting like it. You’ll always have a place here. I hope you know that, but you should have come to me after Rinna’s death if it affected you that much.” Taking his chair, Reyes dragged it around the table until he sat in front of Zevran. Their knees bumped, and Reyes wasted no time before he freed Zevran’s glass from his grip, setting it aside so that he could take Zevran’s hands in his own. “I’m not jealous because you ran off to defeat the Blight with the Hero of Ferelden. In fact, I admire you for it.” Reyes paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “No, I’m upset because we could have worked through it together. Instead, you disappear without a trace and resurface on my doorstep years later, still wearing that damned earring, and act like nothing has happened since I’ve last seen you…”

Well, he got Zevran there.

Although, Zevran thought it peculiar that he brought up the earring, given that Reyes was still wearing his part of the pair.

A little souvenir that Zevran had taken after their first time together, sentimental fool that he was.

Luckily, Reyes didn’t take offense at his thievery. As a matter of fact, he only seemed to enjoy the sight of the earring more often than not. The only time Reyes mentioned its presence was in passing. It was later on that Zevran found out the significance it held, but that didn’t deter him in the slightest.

Zevran mindlessly touched his lobe, fiddling with the hoop.

He ignored Reyes’s stare, taking the time to gather his thoughts into words.

He might as well clear the air, if that’s what they were doing.

“Amor,” Zevran said, the term of endearment falling all too easily from his tongue, “I understand your frustration.” He gave Reyes’s hands a tight squeeze, silently pleading for him to understand his side as well. “Trust me, I do; and if I could change how I acted back then, I would, but believe me when I say that I was not thinking rationally after what happened to Rinna.”

Even now, all he could see were her lifeless eyes, staring back at him.

He forced the image from his mind, refusing to linger on it now.

“I was so afraid that, if I did return to you in that state, I would end up doing something —saying something— to hurt you in some way. Guilt ate at me, day and night, but I didn’t feel in control of myself.” He hated admitting to such weakness, but Reyes didn’t judge, not from what Zevran could tell. He simply listened, attentive. “I kept asking myself every day, ‘Will the Crows finally find out who he is? Will they find out that I let him live? Will Taliesen convince me to turn on him next, only for my life to end the second the contract is fulfilled?’ After all, the Crows are not known for their merciful nature, especially not when it involves a botched contract.” Zevran started clutching at his hands as if his life depended on it, but Reyes didn’t complain, not once. “I couldn’t take that risk. I was still but a puppet on their strings, and I didn’t want you caught in the middle of whatever happened next.”

“You felt trapped,” Reyes murmured, his eyes alight with realization. “Trapped enough to think that taking on a Warden or two in battle was your only way out.”

Zevran’s responding scoff was bleak, bitter.

“Unfortunately, yes. Although, it ended much the same way that my attempt to take your life ended. Of course, there was less sex involved, but eh beggars can’t be choosers.”

Even Reyes couldn’t hold back his laugh at that, eyeing him doubtfully.

“Uh-huh…”

Zevran blinked owlishly at him in confusion. “What?”

“Are you sure you didn’t sleep with the Warden?”

“Do you know something that I don’t?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Just that Captain Isabela was definitely singing a different tune a few weeks ago when the Siren’s Call docked in Llomerryn.”

“Ah, so that’s what you were referring to,” Zevran stated, then shrugged. “Give me a bit of credit, though. I only slept with the Warden after the assassination attempt had failed, and it was only the one time. A great deal of fun, I might add.”

“Always is with Isabela involved,” Reyes snickered. “Leave it to you to have a threesome with the Hero of Ferelden and forget.”

“What can I say? With my kind of experience, it takes a lot to leave a memorable impression.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They both smiled at each other, forgetting everything else, even if only for a moment.

Eventually, Zevran’s expression softened. He cleared his throat, face warming.

“Listen, I know you might not like to hear it, but my time with the Warden was necessary, I think. The people I traveled with, some more than others, helped me remember what I missed in life. Whether they realize it or not, they helped bring me back from that precipice, out of the darkness, and I will forever be in their debt for it, the Warden especially.”

Reyes considered that, all of his attention trained on Zevran.

“You truly mean that?”

“I do.”

“Hmm…” Reyes hummed in contemplation, staring off in the distance for a bit before coming to a conclusion. “Then, perhaps I owe this Warden as well. For bringing you back to me.” He ran his fingers through his hair, exhausted by the day's events. "Which also brings us back to my earlier question. You never did answer."

Reyes leaned in, but Zevran sat as still as possible, barely able to breathe at their close proximity.

He could imagine it all too well, how that brandy would taste upon Reyes’s lips. Even now, the smell of smoke and leather beckoned him forward, pleading with Zevran to close the remaining distance.

Reyes spoke before he could act, breaking Zevran free from his reverie.

"Why are you here?" he asked again.

If only such a question required a simple answer.

"I am here because I wanted to get back to actually living again." He eased forward. Resting his forehead against Reyes’s, their noses bumped ever so slightly. They adjusted the angle so that their lips brushed with each word they spoke, both of them waiting breathlessly in anticipation. "I want to experience passion and adventure."

He reached out to cup Reyes’s face. His fingertips slowly traced the details of his expression.

"But to do that," Zevran murmured, "I need to bring about some changes, something that both you and the Warden inspired me to do."

Reyes reached out, resting his hand on the back of Zevran’s neck.

This time, Zevran didn't even bother to resist, allowing the shiver to flow through him.

All of the air was knocked clear of Zevran’s lungs, his heart racing.

Reyes wet his lips, both of them eyeing each other with a deep-seated hunger.

"Funny," Reyes said, his voice low and husky. "Now that I think about it, I have been getting some rather curious reports from several little birdies within the Crows. Reports about someone who has been cleaning house."

"Curious indeed," Zevran agreed.

Shoving Reyes back into his chair, Zevran climbed into his lap, straddling him with a roll of his hips.

Reyes tossed him a wicked smirk, their lips but a whisper away.

"They're calling him the Black Shadow.”

“‘Him?’”

“Call it a hunch,” Reyes answered. With a gentle tug at its lace, Zevran’s cloak fell open. Reyes parted the fabric, brushing it away from Zevran’s shoulders as it pooled to the floor into a dark bundle. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“And if I do?” Zevran wondered. He decided to take the risk, to put all of his chips on the table. "If I came here specifically to ask for your help to take on the Crows?"

Reyes stared at him, initially shocked by such honesty, but his gaze eventually softened.

His hands settled on Zevran’s armor. Shaky fingers fumbled to undo its clasps.

"Just say the word," Reyes stated, "and I'm your man."

Zevran’s heart skipped a beat.

Slipping his hands beneath Reyes’s shirt, Zevran splayed them out over Reyes's chest.

"I can pay y—"

Reyes covered Zevran's mouth with his hand before he could finish.

"I don't need your coin," Reyes sighed. "If you feel indebted to me, then by all means, you're more than welcome to come join me on some of my jobs. I could always use an experienced rogue."

"That all?" Zevran asked, his voice muffled. Carefully, he peeled the hand away from his mouth, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of Reyes's wrist.

Reyes stared up at him, considering.

The words slipped free without a second thought.

"Stay with me," he whispered. Tugging Zevran close, he stripped his armor away, admiring each sliver of exposed skin. "I know you'll have to leave eventually, but promise to come back to me."

"Only if you promise the same."

Reyes smiled, tangling his fingers in Zevran’s hair.

"You have my word."

With that, they closed the distance between their lips. The kiss started off slow and tentative at first, barely more than a peck as they tested the waters.

Then, they grew bolder, more impatient.

Their lips parted with soft gasps, only to crash together again out of desperation.

They clung to each other with rough hands and a tight grip. Each time they pulled away to breathe, their expressions twisted ever so slightly, as if it physically pained them to be apart.

Zevran’s nails bit into the skin of Reyes’s chest, trailing down with a sharp yet pleasant sting.

He quickly untucked Reyes’s shirt from his pants. His touch ventured further down until his fingers skirted along a prominent bulge.

Deepening the kiss for a split second, Zevran teased, "Is that another dagger, or are you just happy to see me?"

Of course, the last thing Zevran expected was for it to actually be another dagger.

As he brandished the blade for Reyes to see, Zevran raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.

Reyes, on the other hand, chuckled with a sheepish grin.

"What can I say?" He gave a lighthearted shrug. "Dual wielders, am I right?"

With a playful roll of his eyes, Zevran tossed the dagger aside, not even sparing it a second glance as it clattered to the ground in a forgotten corner of the room.

"Are there any more that I should know about, or is it to be a surprise?"

"You could always strip me naked and find out," Reyes offered.

"A tempting offer."

Reyes snorted, capturing his lips into a brief yet passionate kiss.

"Not that you have much room to judge."

Zevran didn't even realize that Reyes’s fingers had crawled forward, relieving him of the blade that he had stashed in his boot.

When he held it out in question, Zevran gasped, feigning shock.

"Now, how did that get there?!" he exclaimed. It wasn't long before the dagger joined the other on the floor.

"The mystery of all mysteries," Reyes deadpanned.

Zevran sighed.

"Might as well get rid of this one, too." Even Reyes couldn’t refrain from gaping when Zevran revealed a long, wickedly sharp blade.

Where in the Maker's name he was hiding that thing, Reyes couldn’t rightfully say.

After Zevran disposed of it, Reyes shook his head in amazement, beaming up at him.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

Before Zevran could respond, he was hauled up into Reyes’s arms. The latter got to his feet, ignoring how his chair crashed to the floor behind him.

Wrapping his legs around Reyes’s waist, Zevran held on tight as Reyes carried him over to the bed. He gently set Zevran down, covering his neck in deep, open-mouthed kisses. With each nip or scrape of his teeth, Reyes soothed the area with his tongue.

They rolled around the bed a bit, playful as they switched positions.

Slowly but surely, they shed each layer of their remaining clothing until they were both bare for each other’s eyes only.

They drank in the sight of each other, taking their time to become reacquainted with each other's bodies. Curious hands explored every dip and curve, tracing ink and scars alike.

Eventually, they settled into place. Zevran braced his hands against Reyes’s chest, straddling his lap, his hair tousled into a disheveled mess.

As Reyes’s hands caressed the expanse of his back, marveling at the musculature that lay beneath, Zevran arched into his touch.

Staring at him, Reyes parted his lips in awe. Their earrings glinted in the room's low lighting.

"So beautiful," Reyes praised, unable to look away for even a second. "My memories of you pale in comparison to having you right here, right now."

Zevran’s face warmed in response.

"Still as charming as ever," Zevran hummed. Leaning in, he stole a swift peck. "I missed that about you." He kissed Reyes again. This time, lingering. "I missed you."

"Likewise, my dear."

When Reyes shifted beneath him, Zevran sank his teeth into his bottom lip, considering.

"I—" Zevran averted his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. "What if we didn't…"

Uncertain, he trailed off, but Reyes caught onto what he was asking, eyebrow raised in question.

"If you don't want to, then we don't have to," Reyes said, simple as that. Although, he couldn’t hide his slight surprise.

"Is it okay if I stay here?"

"Of course." Reyes smiled. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to snuggle, you know."

Zevran huffed.

"Just don't go thinking it means more than what it is."

"Oh, no," Reyes replied sarcastically with a shake of his head. "No, I would never."

With a sigh, Zevran plopped down onto the bed, burrowing into place at Reyes’s side. Reyes readjusted himself, taking Zevran into his arms.

Rough, calloused fingers traced down the length of Zevran’s spine. Their legs tangled together with the sheets wrapped haphazardly around them.

In between deep kisses and soft touches, golden light started to dim as the fire diminished to mere embers. In its place, blue light filtered in from the room's windows, illuminated by the moons that stood vigilant outside.

After a while, their breathing evened, slow and steady.

They started to doze off in each other’s arms, only for the moment to be interrupted by a knock at the door.

They jolted awake, blinking away the sleep that clung to their eyes.

"Rey!" There was a sharp hiss through the door, followed by a few knocks to demand his attention. "Get your ass out here. We have a meeting in ten."

Reyes groaned when he recognized the voice.

"Shit, it's Keema."

Fumbling his way out of bed, Reyes rushed around the room to retrieve his clothes and weapons. As he struggled to get dressed, Zevran watched him in amusement.

When Reyes stopped by to give him a kiss, Zevran tugged him closer, deepening it without hesitation.

Reyes moaned softly, only to be cut off when Keema snapped at him through the door to hurry up.

With one last kiss goodbye, Zevran smirked.

"Don't keep me waiting too long, amor."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Reyes said, breathlessly making his way to the door. He paused before he opened it, hesitating before he left. "After all, we still have some catching up to do."

And with a wink, he departed.

#dragon age #mea #zevran arainai #reyes vidal #zevran x reyes #reyes x zevran #bluerose writes #crossover ship #set in thedas #crackship ahoy #look between bela and reyes and that atrocious line in origins #i think zevran just has a thing for pirates #😂

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