Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 52
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Cormac Hawke ♂, Fenris ♂, Artemis Hawke ♂
Rating: E (L2 N4 S4 V0 D1)
Warnings: Extreme drunkenness, what the fuck Artemis, the internet is for porn, exciting uses for lyrium ghost, dubious consent liek woah
Notes: Fenris and Cormac just want to make Artemis happy. Artemis is a little too pleased to exercise this power.
Fenris and Artemis laid there in the aftermath for a long moment, heartbeats slowing, before they disentangled themselves from one another. Artemis shuffled to the side, noting the mess he’d made of his brother. And the corset.
"All right, Cormac?" Artemis asked with a smirk. Because he knew his brother and knew he hadn’t come yet. He also knew he would be chomping at the bit by now. Artemis pulled Fenris down next to him, kissing him lingeringly before whispering something in his ear that his elf narrowing his eyes.
"I’m fucking great," Cormac groaned. "I think you could use my knob for a bludgeoning weapon, after that. And there’s no way I can get up without spilling spunk all over the carpet. If you ever talk me into this again? Just fuck me. Please."
And if that wasn’t on the list of things he’d never even considered saying to his brother, it was probably because that list was fucking useless, and he’d never even considered saying that to his brother, until it came out of his mouth. Really, the only reason he’d managed to be quite so okay with all of this was that Fenris didn’t seem to be terribly disturbed by it. If the broody death elf didn’t have a problem, Cormac could live with it. If Artemis wanted it, Cormac would find a way to live with it. Or he’d die from it. But, they hadn’t gotten quite that bad yet, except maybe that one time, but who fucking knew the river was that deep right there? Clearly the locals. Which they hadn’t been.
"Could you possibly say that more slowly and clearly?" Fenris asked Artemis. "I’m sure I didn’t hear you correctly. You may have scrambled my ability to think properly."
Artemis rolled his eyes and stroked Fenris’s cheek affectionately. "Oh, I’m sure you know exactly what I just said," he said sweetly. "I told you to go do your magic glow-hands on my brother."
Cormac stopped trying to figure out how to sit up without spilling spunk on everything. The look he turned on Artemis was nothing short of horrified. "Wait, what? Do I get a say in this?" Still, if this was what Artemis wanted. He gritted his teeth, and the next words came out between them. "If this is what you want, Artie…"
Artemis gave Cormac an odd look. He was always doing that, saying things like ‘if this is what you want’ or ‘if you’re happy, I’m happy’, as if Cormac’s happiness were conditional dependent upon him, as if it wasn’t just as much the other way around. "It is what I want," Artie said, raising one eyebrow, "because I know you, and I know what you like."
Next to him, Fenris growled, but it was his ‘I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this’ growl, one with which Artemis was very familiar. "You want me to do this?" he asked. Like Artemis would say ‘no’.
"It’s not like you’d have to touch his funbits," Artemis shrugged. "Besides, you can be a bit rough. He likes that kind of thing. Just don’t overdo it, please. There’s no healer present."
Fenris growled again, but this time it was his ‘fucking Anders’ growl. Artemis was also very familiar with that one.
"Look, if we’re going to do this, can someone please give me something to wipe off my back, first? I know for a fact that you’re going to stop being happy, if I sit up like this." Cormac refused to take this seriously. Just… refused. Covered in his brother’s spunk, potentially about to get his organs manhandled by the mage-hating broody death elf responsible for that situation. "And promise me one of you will go get Anders, if you break something. I like things a little bloody, but I could do with keeping my organs inside my body."
"If I do this. If. I will not break anything. That would upset your brother, and I greatly prefer him not upset." Fenris still looked entirely unconvinced of the wisdom of this venture.
Artemis cast about for something to clean off his brother. And there was a thought. His… that. On his brother. Maker, sober him was going to be pissed.
Eventually, Artemis cleaned Cormac off using his discarded smalls, leaving them in a crumpled ball on the floor. "Better?" he asked. Perhaps he should have dropped the smalls on Cormac’s head to continue the cycle. He motioned Fenris closer with a curl of his fingers, his smile promising that he would make this up to Fenris later.
"For you, yes. You’ll thank me for that, when you’re sober." Cormac finally sat up, knees still parted in the divets they’d left in the carpet, and stretched. He probably shouldn’t have tried to hold that angle for that long, but it was too late to be sorry for it, now. He rubbed the damp spot on his back with one hand and pushed his hair out of his face, with the other. He tried to look at anything that wasn’t his knob, which was starting to look a little shiny and purple around the head.
And then he looked at Fenris, and wished he’d kept looking at his painfully uncomfortable knob, because at least that wasn’t looking back at him, in a vaguely disgusted manner. Somehow, he managed to coax his face into a faintly apologetic smile. And he really hoped he’d be able to get off. Quickly. Because the less time this took, the happier he and Fenris would be. … The things he would do for his brother…
While they exchanged uncomfortable looks, Artemis scootched over to the couch and grabbed whatever Cormac had been drinking. His folded his legs in front of him and sipped at the mostly empty bottle — mm, applejack — as he watched the proceedings.
The air turned sharp with the smell of the Fade, and Fenris’s tattoos lit. Something innocuous to start, he thought. Like a shoulder. Fenris would touch Cormac’s shoulder, and it wouldn’t be awkward. He pressed in hesitantly, experimentally, the tips of his fingers sinking in along the outer curve of Cormac’s shoulder.
"Shit." Cormac’s eyes drifted shut, and his head tipped back. "I’m sorry," he whispered, just loud enough for Fenris to hear him.
The fingers curled around the bones of his shoulder, lyrium calling to the magic in him. Yes, okay, maybe he could understand the appeal, finally. Still, this wasn’t what he needed. It was beautiful and terrifying, but Fenris’s intent seemed to be just as gentle as his touch, and that would not do.
"Hurt me," Cormac sighed, hands kneading his own thighs. "Just… hurt me."
Fenris quirked an eyebrow at that, but Danarius had made him a weapon and hurting was something he did well. The caress turned into a scrape of nail against bone, one finger digging between the ball and socket joint of Cormac’s shoulder. "Be careful what you ask for, mage," he growled. There was an addicting sort of power in this, he found, in bringing pleasure or pain to mages with a single touch.
Cormac screamed, wordless and blood-curdling, at first. "Yes, fuck, yes! More, please!"
This was new and different. Of all the hundreds of ways he’d been ripped into and torn apart, he’d never had anyone clawing at his bones. He should have been horrified, but there was time for that, after the fact. Well, at least he was screaming. No one in the house was stupid enough to open the door to that. His knob twitched as Fenris’s nail caught on some tiny spur of bone.
Artemis smirked into the bottle at his lips. "There we go," he said to himself.
"One finger in your shoulder, and you’re screaming already?" Fenris said, voice smug. This hadn’t been his idea, and he’d much rather be touching Artemis’s insides, but there was something appealing about making this insufferable mage squirm.
Fenris’s fingers slid along the lines of bone, sliding under Cormac’s scapula and clawing at its underside.
More raw, wordless noises tore out of Cormac, before he put another sentence together. "You know exactly what you’re doing," he hissed at Fenris. "Don’t pull that shit with me."
There might have been another sentence, but it was lost to more screams, as Fenris found those particular nerves he’d been avoiding, until Cormac’s mouth inspired a change in tactics. Cormac’s chest heaved in jagged sobs.
"You didn’t have to do this, Artemis." He’d been avoiding this point, but his nerves sang out, and there just wasn’t enough sense left in him to stop it. "You almost had me there, yourself. Look at me. I’m so close, and every time I felt the tip of your knob catch on my asshole, I asked myself if this would be the thrust you’d bury yourself in me and use my insides to stroke yourself off. I’d have let you. I’d have let you, and then I’d have been stuck trying to get the stains out of the rug, before you noticed too clearly."
"Maker," Artemis swore under his breath. His knob was too tired to be interested in those images, but it wanted to be. He finished off the bottle of applejack with one last gulp and set it aside, getting up to kneel next to his brother, wrapping an arm around him and pressing their foreheads together. "I’m glad I didn’t stick with the pillow," he quipped, surprised to find that this was true.
Fenris shook his head at Cormac. "There is something seriously wrong with you," he told the screaming mage, even as he moved to clutch Cormac’s spine, tracing the bumps of vertebrae before his fingers sank deeper, tracing the nerves.
Cormac’s hand slapped against his knob, cupping the head against his belly as he finally spilled. Blind with lust, his first thought was still not to upset his brother by getting it on the rug. Any other night, he’d have left the stain for Artemis to clean, out of sheer brotherhood, but this time — this had all been for Artemis, and he wouldn’t ruin that now. He lost track of everything else. He might have been screaming. Someone might have been talking next to him. But, everything was a single wall of sensation in all available channels.
He came back to himself, shaking, head falling forward, as he panted, trying to pull himself together enough to stand, to go wipe his hand on something. But, for the moment, he just knelt, waiting for the world to stop spinning.
Artemis brushed back Cormac’s hair, his smile fond. "All right?" he asked yet again.
Fenris withdrew his hand, flexing his fingers and cracking the knuckles. He sat back on his haunches and coolly regarded his handiwork. Handiwork. The work of his hands. "Has the abomination ever done that for you, I wonder?" he asked, just to nettle him.
"If you’re happy, I’m amazing," Cormac breathed, pressing his lips to his brother’s eyebrow. That was how this worked. That was how this had always worked.
After a moment, he addressed Fenris. "No, but you don’t expect to eat an apple like a pomegranate, either. Apples are for when you want apples. Pomegranates are for when your brother wants his boyfriend to grope your bones." It made more sense in his head. He was sure of that. Fine philosophical points were not meant to be made when one was still clutching one’s bruised knob after … that. What the fuck had that been, anyway? He decided he didn’t know, didn’t care, and would do it again without hesitation, if Artemis asked.
Artemis snorted. "Well. Now those are two fruits I won’t be able to look at the same way again," he said drily.
"I won’t be able to look at your rug the same way again," Fenris replied. He suspected it would still have the imprint of Cormac’s body pressed into it for a while, and Fenris wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Artemis continued to smooth back Cormac’s hair, hoping his brother wouldn’t hate him for all this in the morning. Hoping Fenris wouldn’t hate him for this. He knew his sober self was going to.
"There’s a brush for the rug," Cormac muttered, grabbing his brother’s damp smalls off the floor, behind him, and using them to clean himself off. "Should probably put some clothes on, before Aveline decides to come looking for us."
He managed a smile for Artemis. "Artie? Anything. Forever. Always." That was how it had always been. That was how it would always be.
It wasn’t the first time Artemis woke up with a killer hangover. It was, however, the first time he woke up with a killer hangover in Fenris’s bed, wearing a corset.
"What… the fuck," he muttered as he held up the covers to look down at himself, voice gravelly. What had happened last night? What had he — oh. Oh.
The mattress shifted behind Artemis, and a tattooed arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him back against a warm body. "Morning," Fenris rumbled sleepily, nuzzling behind his ear.
"Fenris," said Artemis, staring wide-eyed at the wall, "did we…?"
"And did I…?"
Oh sweet Maker. Artemis hid his face in his hands and groaned.
"The walls shook, and you made the most delightful sounds," Fenris purred against Artemis’s ear. The rest of it, well, if it had been him, he’d be making those faces. Still, the important part was that Artemis was here, in his arms, in his bed, dressed in this delicious mint … confabulation that he didn’t even pretend to understand. "And I told you I loved you. And I meant it."
He wound himself possessively around his mage, legs twining, arm flexing. "And I still do. I love you, and every strange and foolish quirk, and every bizarre magical… mage-thing about you. This is all you, and I love all of it." It might take a little getting used to, if Cormac was one of those strange and foolish quirks, but he’d work on it. Maybe he’d invest in a nice leather gag. Cormac had been present every single time they’d been together, so far — it seemed to be turning into a trend. At least they hadn’t had the abomination with them, this last time. Maybe, eventually, it would be just the two of them and possibly a non-embroidered pillow.
Artemis turned in Fenris’s arms so that they were facing each other. The corset’s boning was digging uncomfortably into his ribs, but he ignored it for now. "You must be all manner of insane to put up with me," he said with a fond smile, stroking Fenris’s cheek with the back of his fingers. "But I love you and your lack of sanity."
"Sanity is relative, or so I’m told," Fenris replied, kissing the inside of Artemis’s wrist.
"And… my relatives are insane," Artemis countered wryly. Cormac… Artie was still trying to process that, his emotions one giant, confused tangle.
And despite it all, Fenris was still looking at him like he shit rainbows. "Hey, Fen?" Artemis murmured. Fenris hummed. "Next time it will be just you and me, all right? And sober, too." He owed Fenris that at least.
"Mmm." Fenris kissed him, warmly. "Next time is as soon as I don’t have a throbbing headache and there aren’t carpenters working in the next room?"
He pulled up the blanket and tucked it around them. "Let’s stay here, a while. Let the builders fix things. Let the world go on. I’ll go get us breakfast, later. For now, let’s just sleep."
Artemis rather liked that plan. He wriggled closer, curling under Fenris’s chin again just to hear him huff.