Oh, now he was flushed. Anders took that as a prize; Fenris hardly ever blushed, even when they visited the Rose and that man in drag always talked about the things he wanted to do with the rouge's fun man-bits.

Hm, maybe Anders was being a little hard on him... He was about to cease his jests when the elf saw fit to insult him, and it was the end of any thoughts of mercy he'd been entertaining.

"You're blushing, love. Are you perhaps recalling the last time I had my hands upon you?" the actually time to which Anders was referring was a quick vital heal mid-battle, his hands dashing up Fenris' broken ribs (and he'd no idea why he remembered so specifically, for that matter) with a wash of healing energy.

But Fenris didn't need to know that. Anders was intent on being the winner of this pointless (but really viscerally satisfying) squabble.