It had been almost a year, and Alistair still didn't know how they had gotten to where they were now.

"You have that look on your face again," Zevran said sleepily, his accent somewhat stronger than normal.

Alistair blinked a few times before glancing down at him, his mouth turning upward into a smile despite his best intentions. "Oh?" he asked. "What look is that?"

Zevran didn't protest as Alistair leaned down to kiss him, but the way that the elf pointedly shifted so that their bodies barely touched spoke volumes.

"What did I do now?" Alistair protested as he pulled away from the kiss.

The corner of Zevran's mouth twitched with what looked suspiciously like a smile. "Do?" he asked innocently. "You have not done a thing, mi amor."

"Uh-huh," Alistair said dryly.

Zevran's mouth twitched again. "You are thinking too much, my friend."

Alistair rolled his eyes and pulled away, not meeting Zevran's gaze as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

After a moment's pause, Zevran joined him. "What is it?" Zevran asked, and Alistair knew that he wasn't imagining the hint of trepidation in his voice.

"What are we doing?" Alistair asked quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Beside him, Zevran froze for a moment. Then, ever so slowly, he shifted. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Alistair said pointedly, "the last time I checked, we'd agreed that this wasn't supposed to be anything serious."

Zevran shifted again, his face expressionless. "That has not changed, the last I checked," he said slowly.

Alistair shot him an unamused look. "Is that so?" he asked. "So I just imagined you throwing yourself in front of that archer a few days ago, trying to protect me?'

Zevran actually flinched. There was no hiding it.

"You do not have room to speak, my Warden," Zevran said, not meeting Alistair's gaze. "Not after what you did when that messenger from the Crows found me."

Alistair snorted. "Your Warden, huh?"

Zevran stilled.

"When exactly did Cousland stop being your Warden?" Alistair asked, continuing on as if he hadn't noticed anything.

Zevran gave him a half-hearted shrug. "When he married Anora in order to become king, I suspect," he said, his casual tone of voice obviously feigned. "That is when he stopped being your Warden as well, is it not?"

Alistair closed his eyes, pointedly not meeting Zevran's gaze. "What are we doing, Zev?" he asked, his voice quieter than it had been their entire conversation.

There was a long pause, neither of them saying anything.

"That is up to you," Zevran said slowly, carefully not looking at Alistair.

For a moment, Alistair simply sat there, not saying a word. Then, without warning, he leaned down and pressed his lips tightly against Zevran's.

"No," Alistair said softy, as he pulled away a moment or two later. "It's as much your decision as it is mine."

Zevran stared at him a moment, an unreadable look on his face. Then he smiled.