The night before was a bit of a blur but there was one thing Hawke remembered rather vividly and that was Michael's lips on his, the other man's curls wrapped up and curled around in the lengths of his fingers, and the burning heat of skin pressed against skin. He was pretty sure his bottom lip might be a little swollen from where teeth had sunk in and pulled, but he hadn't seen himself in the mirror yet so he might just be imagining that.
Still, it had just been a midnight kiss to celebrate the New Year because that was a thing here it would seem and Hawke had definitely wanted to throw himself in completely. It also helped stemmed the feeling of loneliness that clung to his peripheral as despite Athera's presence it was still odd for Hawke to be without his companions, some more than others.
Fenris for example, but then the two men had gone their separate ways when Fenris had wanted to pursue the Tevinter mages and Hawke had been called to help the Inquisition by Varric of all people.
Still, it had been a while, an embarrassingly long while since he'd been that close to anyone. It did things, things that Hawke stamped down on as he knew better to go getting wrapped up in what was just a fun kiss to celebrate the dawning of a new year.
He'd dragged himself out of bed clad in nothing more than a pair of underwear, boxer briefs if he wasn't mistaken, the kind that clung to his hips and hugged his thighs like a second skin. Remarkably comfortable or so Hawke had found. He was already in the kitchen when Michael stirred, a cup of coffee clasped in his hands and the rim of the cup tipped towards his mouth.