Prompt for sleepy, romantic sexings led to me indulging in Camistair. Light on sex, heavy on cute. Bring out your d'aww.

Camilia awoke to the now familiar tickling sensation of her lover's stubble grazing her collarbone as his lips danced along the column of her throat. With a yawn, she arched her back in a stretch, letting out a kitten-like mewl from both the satisfying feeling of working her muscles, and Alistair's tongue darting out to gather her earlobe in his mouth, sucking gently.

"Mornin'," she murmured sleepily, one green eye cracking open to see the first slivers of sunlight illuminating their room in Redcliffe, before focusing on the strawberry-blond hair bobbing in front of her. "S'early. Stoppit." Her delicate hand came up to swat him on the cheek, but in her half-conscious state, Camilia ended up smacking herself in the nose.

Alistair chuckled, drawing his lips up her jawline to the tip of her nose, hands planted on either side of her shoulders. "It is early," he said, grinning, "but we can go back to sleep. Later. After I've had my way with you, wicked temptress." Maker, he was even waggling his eyebrows.

The elf yawned again. It wasn't that she wasn't interested; she had given herself to him, and he to her, and more importantly, she loved him. But they had a bed. A real, downy, sinfully cushioned bed that demanded she sleep for at least two more days, rest of the world be damned. Not only that, it took her a good hour or two to wake up fully; she'd be useless to him now.

"'M sleepy, Al," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her level, nuzzling his cheek. "Can't you wait 'til I'm-" Camilia was cut off by something hard poking her thigh. "What- oh." Well, that explained a few things. "Oh."

He laughed, eyes crinkling in amusement. "Yes, 'oh'. You were rubbing on me all night in just your smalls and my shirt." In one surprisingly graceful movement, he had her lithe body on his lap, large hands gripping onto the swells of her hindquarters, squeezing the pale flesh. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but you can hardly blame me for being iup/i at this hour."

She blinked a few times as she adapted to the sudden change in position, but soon melted against his bare chest, freckled cheek resting on his collarbone. "You're warm," she protested weakly, moving her arms to encircle his chest. "An' comfy. Like having a blanket." Cami chuckled at the indignant look he gave her. "A really manly blanket."

Alistair nodded, smile tugging at his lips. "That's right." To prove this, he took a moment to flex his admittedly impressive muscles. His smile doubled when her eyes near popped out of their sockets. "So, I should go shirtless more often, then?"

Arching against him in another stretch, Camilia gave him a sleepy smile, groaning softly. She'd never say it, but she certainly enjoyed when his eyes darkened as she unintentionally thrust her (admittedly small) bosom into his face. "Defin'tly," she mumbled, pressing her lips to his nose as her muscles relaxed once more. "All the time, 'kay? Darkspawn will be blinded by your sheer sexiness." Normally, that would have made her blush, at least a little, but she was still waking up, and frankly, had no idea what she was going on about.

Her lover's eyebrows shot upward, cheeks dimpling in a smile. "Remind me to do this more often, would you?" he said, leaning forward, using his hand to brush his shirt off her shoulder, kissing the newly revealed flesh. "This is doing fantastic things for my ego."

Murmuring in approval, the elf wiggled on his lap, giggling shamelessly as he let out a hiss against her pale skin. The rather child-like laughter was cut off abruptly when she felt Alistair dig his fingertips into her hips, pressing her down onto that hard bulge and grinding. "Oh!" she repeated, though this time the single syllable was drawn out in a moan.

He chuckled huskily, dragging his lips along her collarbone, nipping as his hands skimmed over the expanse of her back, hitching up her shirt in the process. "So, my love," Alistair said, bringing his eyes up to meet hers, "do you mind? I'm not... I didn't mean to, ah... be so forward but, Maker's breath you're just so-"

Camilia cut him off with a kiss that had so much force his skull bounced off the headboard, eliciting a pained grunt that melted into a moan as her callused fingers rose to massage the injured area. One of his own, much larger hands delved into the orange strands of her bed-mussed hair, pushing her to deepen the kiss, gliding his tongue along her lower lip, politely asking entry. Her lips parted against his, a tiny mewl escaping her as their tongues met, playfully following one another into the other's mouth until the kiss was broken in favor of breathing.

"S'fine," she said, breathing heavily. "I like it."

Before he could answer, her hand ran down his chest, over the ridges of his stomach, to the laces of his trousers. It would have been simpler to move off his lap and actually look at what she was doing, but that sort of rational thought was for people who were actually somewhat coherent when they awoke. Camilia's face scrunched in concentration as she fumbled with the fabric, tip of her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she unintentionally ran her palm along his length. Pants should not be this difficult to get off, she thought to herself, more than a little frustrated, and dangerously close to throwing a tantrum.

"I should hope," Alistair said, startling her out of her thoughts to look at his face, cocking her head in confusion, "that it isn't ithat/i difficult to find." His lips curved into a half-smile despite his words.

He was joking with her, of course, but her head wasn't working right, thus she took him quite seriously. "Nope! It's huge."

A playful brow rose, wrinkling his forehead. "Is it?"

She nodded. "'Normous. And some other words that mean big," she replied, rubbing her nose against his. "My fingers just don't work too well this early. Just gimme a minute, 'kay?"

Alistair laughed, though it was more than a little strained as she managed to loosen the laces. "You have absolutely no right to be so adorable while fishing around in my drawers," he remarked, eyes crinkling in another smile. "I couldn't even pull that off."

She let out a tiny whoop when she finally succeeded in getting his member free of its prison. Absently, she began stroking it, while tilting her head to the side, brow furrowing as she regarded him. "Oh, I don't know," she remarked casually. "I think you could. You're very cute and-"

"Cami," he gasped, grabbing onto her wrists.

Blinking a few times, her head cocked in the other direction. "Huh?"

"I just... please. Stop. With your hand. I want... to be with you."

His words put a bright smile on her face, one that refused to waver even as she kissed him. Obliging his request, she lifted herself up, using a hand to pull aside her smalls as Alistair steadied his length, running the tip along her folds before poising it at her entrance. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she guided herself down, murmuring incoherently against his cheek as he filled her.

When her hips were flush against his, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Mmm... okay," she mumbled, pressing a clumsy kiss against his cheek. "Have fun."

Alistair chuckled roughly. "'Have fun,' she says. Maker's breath, you're odd in the morning." Despite his laughter, he cradled her in his arms, shifting until he was on top, her legs wrapped around his waist. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against the apple of her cheek, and began moving, as slowly as his body would allow.

Her fingertips dug into the tanned flesh of his biceps, soft moans of contentment leaving her parted lips. Rocking her hips in time with his, more out of instinct than anything else, she let her hands roam, skimming over his back, chest, arms and shoulders, just enjoying how solid he felt. She dotted kisses along his throat, whispering words of encouragement as he moved within her.

It didn't take him long to reach his peak. A few minutes at most, after favoring her with a multitude of kisses across her jaw, eyelids and brow, murmuring declarations of love and care until finally groaning her name into the crook of her neck. As his orgasm shook his body, Camilia's palms smoothed over his neck and hair, lips brushing his temple, his breath coming out in hot pants against her skin.

When he was able to regulate his breathing, Alistair rose his head, looking at her with a sheepish smile on his face. He slid out of her, forcing a whimper to crawl its way from her throat, and settled by her side. His lips found her collar again, this time trailing up the column of her throat and nipping at her pointed chin. While she was distracted by the sensation, his hand began to trail down her stomach.

She caught him by the wrist. "No. Sleepy," she murmured, eyes tingling and lids heavy, nearly back in the Fade already.

"But you didn't finish," he protested, hand continuing on until she brought her other to grasp his palm, pulling back with the strength of both arms.

"Sleep-ee."

"Cam, I can't just-"

Bringing a hand over his mouth, Camilia attempted to glare, but instead yawned; Alistair unconsciously copied the motion beneath her palm. "I am going to let go in a moment," she explained. "When I do, you're going to stop arguing with me, and cuddle. I want sleeps."

With that, she let go. Alistair just stared at her for a long time, fingers curling and uncurling in the fabric of her shirt. Finally, he chuckled, kissing her on the tip of her nose. "You're a lot bossier when you're cranky," he pointed out, turning her until her back was pressed to his chest. He left her for but a moment to grab the covers that had been kicked down to the foot of the bed, drawing them up over them both, returning to his place with a peaceful sigh.

As his arm curled around her waist, she wriggled as close as she could, eyes closing from the sensation. "Mmm. Love you," she murmured, shifting a leg so that it slipped between his, locking with one.

Alistair shivered in response, clutching her closer to him, kissing the back of her neck with a gentle nibble. "Love you, too, Cam," he replied, "even if you have freezing feet."

Too tired to argue - and knowing full well that she did have cold feet anyway - she managed to elbow him in the ribs, mumbling something about smart mouthed templars, small smile curving her lips as she drifted off.