[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody In Ass Major – Chapter 110
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Cormac Hawke ♂, Artemis Hawke ♂, Anders ♂, Fenris ♂
Rating: E (L3 N4 S4 V0 D1)
Warnings: Hawkeward Hawke-on-Hawke action, OH MY GOD ARTEMIS, the internet is for porn
Notes: The best kind of sandwich is filled with a Hawke.
It took Fenris ridiculously long to realise that the sounds Anders and Cormac had made were actual words, longer still to realise that some of those words had formed a question. He assumed Anders was asking Artemis and pulled his lips away long enough for his mage to answer. Anders couldn’t have been asking him. Even if he had, Fenris didn’t know his own wants well enough to answer, and Artemis’s wants would always come first.
Artemis licked his swollen lips, taking just as long to form words as Fenris had taken to hear them. Anything. That was on the table, and that was exactly what Artemis wanted. ‘Anything’. So what he told them was, "Everything. All of you. I want… I want all of you." He could blame what alcohol was left in his system for that. Or Fenris’s glowy hand going tap, tap on his tailbone. That was distinctly unfair.
Cormac had no idea how that was going to work, if he meant all at once. "Which one of us do you want first?" he asked. "The glowy elf? The flagpole? Your big brother?"
"I think," Anders said, hands still wandering Fenris’s and Cormac’s skin, completely out of time to each other, "it could be all of us at once. Depending on how you want us. You fuck one of us, one of us fucks you, and you suck on the third. Or maybe — assuming our delightfully glowy companion can still get it up after that — and assuming you can actually make it work, the two of them fuck you while you fuck me. That’s really the only way that one’s going to work, and I know it. I’m sure there’s a couple more I haven’t thought of."
What Anders was proposing was absurd, Fenris was sure. How would the bodies fit together? Artemis couldn’t possibly fit him and Cormac at the same time… But, before Kirkwall, he’d seen… and that never ended well for the slaves involved, so how could Anders be seriously offering that to Artemis? His confusion manifested out of the pleasure still obvious on his face.
Artemis rather liked the images Anders was putting in his head. Maker bless that man. Fenris and Cormac at once? Artie hadn’t considered… He’d heard it was possible, but… "Can we try that?" he asked, hips rocking against Fenris just at the thought. Then, remembering that Anders’s question had been multiple choice, Artemis clarified, "Cormac and Fenris at the same time."
Anders’s lips quirked up. "And where would you have me?"
Artemis chewed on his lip, looked down at Anders’s skirt where the flagpole announced its presence. "You know, my mouth is still free." He’d never admit it in front of Fenris, but Artie had missed the flagpole.
Fenris was busy trying to figure out the mathematics of this equation.
"Aw, but if you’ve got your mouth full, how am I going to hear all those breathtakingly sexy little noises you make?" Cormac complained, trying not to think about the fact that he was about to be rubbing his knob against Fenris.
"I suppose you can still listen to him choke on the flagpole," Anders teased. "Please don’t actually choke. People choking on my knob makes me sad."
A strangled sound emanated from Fenris, that took a few moments to register as a laugh. Clearly Anders didn’t know everything about Artemis, then. He felt a little better about the situation, but the physics still confused him some, although less now that Anders wasn’t getting fucked.
Artie tugged on Fenris’s ear, fingers still holding a light charge, and felt it twitch. "So, um." He looked around him, at the clearing, at the three gorgeous men who would be… Ha. "How are we— How do we do this?"
Fenris was relieved he wasn’t the only one struggling with the physics. He drew his hand out of Artemis to give him room to move, and his mage slid off his lap
"Preferably without you being stabbed by Fenris’s corset, that’s how," Anders said. At Fenris’s look, he added, "In fact, preferably without anyone being stabbed by that corset."
"Or stabbed in general," Artemis agreed. "Sound advice."
Anders studied the other three and the lay of the clearing. "Cormac? How tall are you?"
"You don’t know that, by now?" Cormac scoffed, elbowing Anders. "I come up to your chin. Why?"
"More of an ‘in relation to the landscape’ question." Anders squinted at the ground and pointed to the trough of one of the ripples surrounding the basin. "If you lie down in that ripple, do you have enough space not to hit your head on the path?"
"Or I could lay the other way, and avoid that problem entirely," Cormac pointed out. "My feet wouldn’t mind."
"Not enough space," Anders said, shaking his head. "I think I know how to do this, if you’re not too tall for that space."
Cormac got out of the thigh-cupped seat on the edge of the basin and stretched out in the grassy dent. "You’d probably fit in this," he said, feeling for the edge of the path beyond his head.
"Artemis goes on top of you, facing you. Fenris goes behind him. And, after a bit, I think I get to go over you, the other way." Anders looked entirely smug. "I really hope I guessed right, or this is going to be a little less fun than I had in mind."
"Worst case, it will take some trial and error," Artemis said, his smile just this side of nervous. "That’s why we have a healer on hand."
"Reassuring," Fenris muttered.
Artemis padded over to his brother and straddled his hips, knees sinking into grass. Fenris stood over them awkwardly, leash still in hand, and wondered how he could do this while touching Cormac as little as possible. There was going to be a certain amount of touching required for this to work, but Fenris would rather keep it to the minimum.
"Remind me to compliment Anton later on the party," Artemis quipped. He sat back so that Cormac’s knob teased at the cleft of his ass, thin fabric all that separated them.
"As long as we don’t both compliment him on his choice of garden furniture, I think we’ll be fine," Cormac joked, reaching between them, to tug the loincloth to the side. He rolled his hips as he slid his hand out, grinding against his brother. This needed to happen before he had time to do too much more thinking about it, or it was going to become very difficult to keep his knob interested in the proceedings. The crown of lime dug into the back of his head, as it tipped and fell back against the grass.
"You two should start," Anders said, kneeling beside them and offering his sparking fingers to Fenris. "I’m going to be the last one to join the party. And the both of you should probably consider trading sparks, for most of this, if Fenris is going to be touching both of you."
"Thank you," Fenris mumbled, still uncertain where he belonged and somewhat constrained by the length of the leash.
"Sit," Anders suggested. "You’ll be part of it in just a minute." He traced a finger up the side of Fenris’s leg, following the lines and watching them light up.
Cormac winked at Artemis and pressed a jolt to the inside of each of his thighs. "Think you can do this without stopping my heart, this time?" he teased.
Artemis’s hips jumped, the jolt making his laugh come out breathy. "I might stop it on purpose if you tease me too much," he said, reaching behind him to place a spark right behind Cormac’s balls. Artie bit his lip against a smirk, as Cormac bucked under him, a choked sound of surprise wrenching out of Cormac’s chest.
"Ooh, I like that sound," Artie said, his face the very image of smug. He ground back against his brother’s knob, sparking fingers skimming up over Cormac’s corset, across his chest. He bent forward to nip his brother’s chin just under that ridiculous beard. "Grease. We’re probably going to need it if… both of you… yes. That would be good." His smile was a little less smug then. This wasn’t on the long list of regrettable things he’d done, sober or otherwise, but he trusted his brother, and he trusted Anders and Fenris. And Maker, he wanted this. "I’d cast, but I’d probably just end up ruining everyone’s corsets."
Fenris chuffed. There was a reason Artie rarely used that spell, even with him.
Anders pressed a hand to Artemis’s belly. "Let me. I was a master of the self-greasing ass. Shouldn’t even be enough to drip on your brother, although I really am going to suggest taking that off, Cormac. The skirt, not the corset. You’re going to end up with something on it. You’re on the bottom." He cast directly into Artemis, a warm, runny sensation.
Rolling his eyes, Cormac realised Anders was probably right. He was wearing black, but they were dealing with things that would show up even better on black. A bit of squirming and he shoved the unbuckled belt and the top of the cloth down to his knees, kissing Artemis, before he laid back down. "Come on, Artie. Take me. I’m all yours." His hands kneaded Artemis’s thighs. "Hurt me. Make me scream for you. I want to fill you up." Don’t think, just do. This always ended well, and this time would be no different.
It always gave Artie chills, the way his brother begged to be hurt, but he would do anything to please the man under him. "All mine, hmm?" Artemis reached behind him for Cormac’s knob, giving it a lazy stroke before pressing the sparking pad of his thumb against the tip. He rose up on his knees as his brother bucked beneath him, and he watched his brother’s face twist. Finally, Artemis sank down onto Cormac, grease keeping the motion smooth, his insides already stretched from Fenris’s earlier… attentions.
Artemis circled his hips, a pleased sound rumbling in his chest and eyes fluttering closed. "I’ll never get tired of this," he sighed. "Feeling you like this."
Stroking more current into Artemis’s thighs, Cormac bit his lip and closed his eyes, just letting all the things he shouldn’t say pass by. They weren’t things that were his to say — less what he meant by them than how Fenris might take them. He finally settled on, "Always. Anything. Just tell me. Show me what you want."
Fenris looked awkwardly at Anders and shrugged.
"Just give Artie a minute to relax. He’ll tell you when he’s ready for more. Start with your fingers." Anders moved a little closer to Fenris. "I’ll take care of the grease for you. And, if you’ll let me, I’ll keep the electricity on you. Just let me know where you need it."
Fenris nodded, his smile stilted.
For a while, Artemis just focused on feeling, on the sensation of Cormac inside and under him and nothing else. No thinking. No counting, no obsessing, just… this. "More," he said when he’d adjusted. He licked his lips. "Please." Turning his head, he locked eyes with Fenris to find his elf watching with more than a passing interest.
Fenris looked to Anders, who nodded, taking Fenris’s hand and coating it with grease. He tried not to think about how often Fenris had threatened to kill him with that hand, and whether that made this whole thing better or worse.
Fenris sat up on his knees, clean hand taking Artemis’s chin. "Te amo," Fenris murmured, giving him kiss.
Anders’s gaze was nearly clinical, as he watched the scene unfold. There would be time enough to enjoy it, later. Right now, he just had to make sure nobody broke anything serious on the way to later. "Slowly," he suggested to Fenris.
Fenris’s slick fingers slipped down between the cheeks of Artemis’s incredibly enticing bottom. He stroked with one finger, feeling where his mage met Cormac, rubbing the rim of that stretched hole. How exactly was he meant to fit? But, Anders seemed to know what he was suggesting, and Artemis wanted it… He pressed the back of his finger against Cormac’s knob, trying very hard not to think too much about that, and carefully worked the fingertip into Artemis, tugging gently at the edge of the hole.
Cormac tensed and writhed, trying not to buck. The last thing he wanted was to break Fenris’s knuckles. A near-constant stream of sound spilled out of his mouth, moans and pleas and expletives. Artemis had been an incredible fit around him, a constant low-grade pressure, but no pinch. But, with Fenris’s finger added, and slowly more and more of that finger, it was getting to be a bit of a squeeze. He rubbed more electricity into his brother’s thighs, with one hand, the other teasing the tip of Artemis’s knob.
Artemis braced his hands against Cormac’s chest, turning off his own sparklefingers for the moment. He ducked his head, eyes a bit pinched. Not painful, not yet, but… different. Breathing. Right. That was something he should do.
Fenris pressed a kiss to Artie’s nape, finger working slowly deeper. "All right, Amatus?" he asked, voice a low rumble.
Artemis nodded. "Y… yes. Keep going."
A second finger prodded at Artie’s hole, and Artemis sucked in a breath through his teeth. Fenris paused, fingers stilling, but his mage didn’t tell him to stop. "All right?" he asked again, getting an impatient nod in reply.
"Yes. All right." Artie’s voice came out breathier than usual. Fenris’s fingers went back to work, and Artie focused on Cormac’s face, on Cormac’s hands and just breathed.
Somewhere around that second finger, Cormac completely lost track of everything but that tight, grinding pressure against his knob. He fought the incoherent shrieks of pleasure down as he realised that if he was thrilled with it, Artie probably wasn’t. Still, Artie’s knob didn’t seem to be flagging in his grip, so maybe his little brother was that kind of kinky, at least some of the time.
Anders kneaded Cormac’s leg, just a reminder that he was there, as he continued to watch. No one was bleeding, yet, which was a good sign. Well, for everyone except Cormac, who probably would have preferred to be bleeding.
"Artie? We love you," Cormac forced out, between ragged breaths. "We love you so much, we’re about to rub our knobs together inside you, just to watch you come for us. Just to hear every little sound you try not to make, as you take us both. Just for you, Artemis."
"Your brother is right," Fenris murmured. "I do love you. I love you enough that I don’t have to understand why you want this, I just have to know that you do."
Artemis laughed weakly, the sound little more than a gust of air. He wasn’t sure this desire was something he could explain to Fenris. He could only hope his elf got some pleasure out of this too. "Love you," he said, addressing them both and wondering what he had done right in his life to earn such devotion.
Another finger, and Artemis felt a bit lightheaded. His mind filled with words like ‘full’ and ‘stretched’, but he didn’t ask to stop, just grit his teeth and breathed. A few swears made it through his teeth, but he softened them with a smile and another breathless laugh. Then the pain eased, became an ache, became a pressure, and Artie relaxed in increments.
Anders watched his face all the while, healing ready at his fingertips. Still no bleeding, no force pushing of any kind.
Cormac bit through his lip, finally, the rush of blood giving him something to think about other than the exquisite ache in his knob. The only times he’d been wrung this tight had involved hands, and that hadn’t been nearly this… well, this. He thought about the fact that was Fenris, as the kiss of the lyrium became more of a bite. Maker, he suddenly understood what his brother saw in this elf. Or maybe he didn’t, but that was something he’d give Fenris some unexpected credit for.
He glared at Anders as the blood stopped running down his cheek. He’d been using that.
"Soon," Anders promised Fenris, running one sparkling finger down his arm, before leaning down to kiss the blood off Cormac’s cheek.
"Oh, shit, Anders…" Cormac pleaded, eyes desperate.
"No," Anders said softly, stroking the unbloodied cheek. He smiled sadly and touched his lips to Cormac’s forehead, before he sat up, again. "But, you can kiss my ass, in a few minutes."
Cormac couldn’t quite manage to look irritated. "I’ll take it."
Artemis watched the two of them, shaking his head fondly. Still in so much denial, but that was one argument he didn’t plan to have again. If Cormac was happy in his obliviousness, then so be it.
Fenris spread his fingers inside Artemis, and this time the breath Artie sucked in left again in a groan. There. Those were the kinds of sounds Fenris had wanted to hear, and he smiled, pressing a kiss to Artie’s shoulder.
"Okay," Artemis said. "Okay, I’m… That’s… Shall we try this?" He brought electricity back to his fingertips, careful to keep the spell weak for now, and sent some sparks through Cormac, just under his corset and above where they joined.
Anders nodded and offered more grease to Fenris. "Leave a finger in, until you get the tip in, or you’re never going to be able to do it," he warned, sounding like he’d done this before. He had, but from the other side. Not even Nate had been crazy enough to take anything with the flagpole.
Fenris nodded, with a nervous glance at Anders, as he freed himself from his leather loincloth. He took the grease and stroked it onto himself.
"There?" Anders asked, horrified, finally getting a look at Fenris’s knob.
"Everywhere." Fenris shrugged, taking a few deep breaths as he watched Artemis’s back rise and fall. "You have seen me in even less than this. Your face has been much closer to those lines than it is, right now. Did you not notice?"
"I wasn’t looking at you! I was well on my way to drunk, and you were trying to choke me with your knob!" Anders continued to look horrified. How had he missed the taste of lyrium? How had Justice missed it? And if that wasn’t another reason to avoid getting that drunk…
"Good," Fenris said, with a hint of a smile. He carefully lined himself up, clean hand stroking Artemis’s back. "Would you… my lower back? I don’t know if I can…"
Anders didn’t need the rest of those sentences. There were three mages in this tangle, and he was pretty sure at least two of them could only get that spark going in their hands. As he’d shown Isabela, Anders could get it going in some more interesting places, to exciting effect — though he’d only need his hands, here. He laid a hand just below where Fenris’s corset stopped, letting the current chase ourward from his palm, along the lines of lyrium.
The current lit Fenris’s tattoos, the glow bright enough that Artie could see it out of the corner of his eye. Fenris made the most delicious sound at his ear, and then there was a knob prodding at his hole. Artemis didn’t know when he’d grabbed Cormac’s wrist, but he was clutching it now tight enough to bruise.
And Artemis could feel the difference between them, not so much the size as the texture, the prickle of lyrium against the heat of skin. Fenris kept smoothing a hand down his back, a comfort as well as a guide, reminding Artie not to lean back into Fenris’s spikes. Artemis was already impaled enough as it was.
"All right, Amatus?" Fenris asked one more time, still pressing slowly, slowly inward. His own voice came out a bit choked, the pressure overwhelming. Artemis had never been this tight around him.
"Oh, fuck, Fenris, stop! Don’t move." Cormac sounded somewhere between pleasure and panic. "Just… a minute. Give me a minute." His hands clutched at Artemis’s thighs, as he tried to remember how to breathe properly.
Anders’s eyes caught Cormac’s, and he raised his eyebrows. Did he need to be concerned? But, Cormac shook his head with a hint of a smile. He knew that look.
"You didn’t bring one of those potions, did you?" Cormac asked, smile widening, as he squeezed his eyes shut.
Anders snorted. "You know, if I had any idea we were going to wind up here, I’d have brought three."
Fenris shot a confused look at Anders, still but for his hands still caressing Artemis.
"He’s fine." Anders laughed. "Cormac. Pierro says thank you."
"Oh, ahhh!" Cormac winced. "Please, somebody move. Do something. Oh, Andraste’s brazen ass, I hate you, Anders!"
"No you don’t. Thank me later." Anders smiled sweetly and gestured for Fenris to continue.
"Mages," Fenris huffed. It was the only response, after not understanding most of that exchange. Artemis shook with soft laughter, reaching blindly behind him to pat Fenris’s thigh.
"Mages," he agreed, shrugging.
Fenris pushed in the rest of the way, letting out a shaky breath as Artie sucked one in. Slowly, Fenris rocked his hips, the pressure and mage-skin making spots dance before his eyes. His mage made a shivery sound that could have been pain or pleasure or both.
Artemis certainly couldn’t tell which it was. He moved slowly in counterpoint to Fenris, feeling the grind of knobs inside of him. Maker. Surrounded and possessed by two men he loved. This was… He felt…
"Artie," Anders’s voice was soft. "Tell me when you want me. If you still want me." His hand lingered on Fenris’s back, for the moment, keeping up that low current.
Cormac rolled his hips, electricity sparking between his fingers and across his palms, although the latter might have just been his nerves having an opinion about the state of things. Artie was so tight around him, crushing lyrium lines against his knob. He’d be able to trace the pattern from memory, after this, he was sure. The idea darted across his mind that this might leave a mark.
This was the physically closest he’d ever been to anyone, that he could recall. He’d never been squeezed like this, crushed together with another man’s knob inside of someone. And that someone being Artemis… He looked up into those beautiful blue eyes, so much like his own. Fine, maybe he had nice eyes to go with his nice shoulders. He might admit to that.
Small, ragged noises poured out of him, as he tried to keep himself in check. This was incredible, but he reminded himself over and over that it could be even more, if he could just hold out for it.
Fenris’s hands rested on Artemis’s hips as the three of them tried to find a rhythm. Artemis panted for breath, writhing between his brother and his fiance. He laid a hand on one of Fenris’s and shot another electric current through the tips of his fingers. Fenris’s hand squeezed in response, threatening to leave finger-shaped bruises until Fenris loosened that grip, thumb rubbing in soothing circles against the abused skin there.
Artemis smiled dazedly, looking over his shoulder for Anders. He tugged lightly on Anders’s hand. "Hey. I think it’s time to make this a real party." He was already skirting the line of ‘overwhelmed’, but he wasn’t one to leave someone out.
Fenris huffed, giving Artie’s chain a teasing tug. "Always such a greedy thing, aren’t you?" he rumbled.
"Don’t pretend you hate it," Artemis shot back over his shoulder.
"Artie, hold on to him. I have to let go." Anders waited until he was sure there were enough hands in close enough to the right places, before he moved his own.
Fenris choked back a whine, as the soothing current left the bowl of his hips. He would never admit to it.
Anders positioned himself over Cormac, after a bit of a tangle of arms and legs, and Cormac propped himself up on an elbow to bite one still-clothed ass cheek.
"You know, if you wait a minute, that won’t taste like linen," Anders chided, unfastening his belt, and taking care not to drop the heavy front plates on Cormac’s chest, as he set the skirt aside, baring his almost-interested knob to Artemis. Cormac made some low and desirous sound, from behind him, and Anders’s breath hitched.
"You’re welcome to wait for your brother to make that more appealing, or you could help him work it up. Sorry, I was a little too interested in making sure you didn’t get hurt. Either of you." He tipped his head to indicate Fenris. "Him, not so much," he joked, reaching down to dig a thumbnail into one of Cormac’s nipples. There was a desperate sound, distorted by tongue, from Cormac.
Keeping one hand on what he could reach of Fenris, Artemis stretched forward to nuzzle at Anders’s knob, mouthing at his balls. "Hello, old friend," he said to the flagpole, earning him an amused snort from Anders.
The first thing Fenris noticed was the ugly scar just under the base of the corset, that extended down the inside of Anders’s hip, broad and pocked. It looked like the mage had been gutted. That didn’t make as much of an impression as it might have, under other circumstances, but Fenris’s hips stilled when he caught sight of the flagpole. Venhedis. The others hadn’t been exaggerating. An hour ago, he would have wondered how Artemis could have… have taken that (he didn’t want to consider Cormac), but considering the current state of things…
"Mages," he mumbled again, shaking his head. He had no other word for it. His hips picked up again, wringing another choked groan from his mage. His mage who was mouthing and licking at the tip of Anders’s knob.
Anders let his head fall back, one hand resting on Artemis’s shoulder, as his breathing grew deeper and slower. "If this is what I spent my life paying in advance for … it might almost have been worth it." Reaching back, he squeezed the one of Cormac’s hands that gripped his ass. It was best, he thought, that he’d ended up here, of all of them. He was the least likely to fall, with two people licking at his nether regions. Still, he meant to give Cormac an endless amount of trouble about that beard, later. There was a reason they didn’t tend to do this sort of thing — at least not like this.
"Almost?" Cormac asked, catching his breath, before he dove back in, all teeth and tongue, and left a few dents around Anders’s tailbone. His hips rolled of their own volition, matching the pace Fenris set. He teetered just on the edge, senses taking in all of everything, as his brain completely failed to filter any of it.
"Almost," Anders replied, and the tone was enough to discourage any further commentary. He felt himself thicken, between Artemis’s lips. "Just like that, Artie. Feels so good…" Almost an absent comment, half his attention on their surroundings. Outside always made him fall back into what he’d learnt in the tower. Outside, parties, anything where someone might take an unwarranted interest in unexpected sounds.
Artemis let out a pleased hum around Anders at the praise, eyes rolling up to look at his face. Anders carded a hand through Artie’s hair, pushing it back.
Fenris watched Artie’s head bob, watched the way the muscles of his jaw and throat worked around the abomin— around Anders. Gold chain wrapped around one hand, Fenris knew he could put a stop to this if he wanted to, knew that Artemis had agreed to those terms, but the sight was… more ‘inspiring’ than he would have thought.
Artemis lost tack of what hands belonged to whom, lost count of limbs and knobs and left all the thinking to the men around him. His hips moved on instinct, mouth and throat eager around Anders, who stoppered the desperate noises building in his throat. It was overwhelming, too much and not enough, electricity spiking through his nerve endings.
"I’m sorry," Cormac whined, thighs flexing under Artemis and Fenris. "Can’t—" And then the words gave way to ragged sounds, loud, raw, wordless pleas. The electricity skipped from one hand to the other and back, singeing a few blades of grass around his fingers, before returning to the thumb he had squeezing Anders open for his tongue. He arched, hips lifting up, and cried out, throbbing hard inside his brother, crushed against Fenris’s lyrium-laced knob.
Those sounds, that particular burst of electricity, brought Anders from mostly interested to craving more, the flagpole jutting sharply from his hips to where it vanished into Artemis’s mouth. "Missed your lips," he breathed, reaching further behind himself to tangle his fingers in Cormac’s hair.
Fenris swore, hips stuttering in the wake of Cormac’s spend, adding another layer of slick between him and the two mages pressed against and around him. He didn’t know where the sparks were coming from anymore, or even where they were landing, his markings lit from toes to chin. Pleasure coiled at the base of his spine, setting off sparks of its own along his skin, but Fenris forced it back.
"Oh, Artemis!" he gasped, and Artie replied with another desperate sound, the next spark from his fingers just this side of too much. Fenris knew that sound. It was the type of sound Artemis made before begging to be touched, the type of sound he made when he was close but not there yet.
Fenris let go of one of Artemis’s hips to stroke a hand down his mage’s spine. On the second pass, that hand sank into skin, then into bone, curling inside each vertebae, and Artemis’s hips jerked and trembled, his eyes rolling back. A groan vibrated in Artie’s throat, making Anders suck in a breath, as Artemis clutched at Fenris, at Cormac, at Anders, uncaring where his magic was going or who was doing what. The ground shook almost violently under his knees, his body shivering to match, as he spilled over his brother.
Anders reached down and swiped the mess off Cormac’s corset, offering his dripping fingers to Fenris, an obscene and obscure gesture, but hopefully reassuring. His thighs trembled and his toes curled as both brothers ricocheted lightning off the inside of his skin. He wasn’t this easy, except for the part where he absolutely was, but with Artie’s throat wringing his knob and Cormac’s fingers and tongue in his ass, he was getting there so very quickly. The first one was always fast, and then he’d ache for hours, until Cormac took the time to finish what they’d started. Justice didn’t approve, neither of his impossible Warden stamina (under these circumstances) nor of the nagging pain of leaving the flagpole untended, but this was one of those things Justice had learnt it was better not to argue too much about — just as Cormac had learnt not to argue too much, if Justice got to him first. But, for now, the only complaint from Justice was that the lyrium in Fenris’s skin was so very close and he couldn’t touch it.
Behind him, Cormac was still rambling desperately, a steady stream of incomprehensible words crammed into a slushy rush of erotic noise, muffled by the crush of hot Warden ass. He’d gotten used to Anders, after all these years — spoilt by Anders, really — and a single incredible orgasm was a beautiful distraction, but hardly something to put a stop to this amazing convocation of knobs and asses and magic. Another jolt lanced out from his fingertips, and Anders became perfectly still, but for a single short gasp and the forceful throb of his knob against Artemis’s tongue.
Fenris caught Anders’s eye over Artemis’s shoulder, watched his face twist. He growled around Anders’s fingers, pressing teeth to them in a parody of a bite, and even that touch was electric where it sparked against his tongue. Artemis still shivered and shuddered in his grip, still squeezed him so deliciously tight, and, still holding Artemis by his bones, Fenris lost himself in the feel and taste of mage skin and mage magic. This. He supposed this counted as magic serving man, didn’t it?
Artemis reached back, fingers scrabbling under Fenris’s spikes to send a jolt along his spine, sparks chasing each other up and down rivers of lyrium. Fenris’s vision went white, a strangled sound caught in his throat. Anders managed to pull his fingers free before the elf accidentally bit them off.
"Like biting… you should… Cormac," Anders choked out, with a sliver of a smile and a gesture downward, with his wet fingers, before he stroked more electricity against the lines on Fenris’s chin.
Cormac muttered something faintly annoyed, refusing to stop licking to deliver the obvious point — that he’d really rather not, thanks. But, just for that, the next jolt was less gentle, and Anders stiffened, hands spreading, toes curling, but still almost soundless.
"Artie," Anders said, waiting until he was relatively sure he had the attention of the mage in the middle of it all. "Swallow." He tugged Cormac’s hair, an encouragement to do the same thing again. For all the attention, he was still just on the edge — too much of his mind on the surroundings, to surrender — but he could force it, with a few more nudges in the right direction.
Artemis’s brain was still a scattered mess after all of that, but he heard. He gave Fenris’s thigh an affectionate squeeze, and then let go to reach for Anders instead, both hands grabbing him by the hips and pulling him closer. His throat worked around Anders as Artemis pulled him in, taking him as deep as he could. Air wasn’t something Artie needed right at that moment, not with Anders hot and throbbing on his tongue.
Anders carded his hand through Artie’s hair, struggled to keep his thrusts shallow so that Artie didn’t choke. But Artemis wasn’t making it easy, the way he was tugging at Anders’s hips, urging him to move.
The noise from Cormac was substantially more coherent than the last few, as Anders’s hips rocked forward and then snapped back, landing a tailbone against the bridge of Cormac’s nose. "Ow, fuck!"
Anders stroked healing into the side of Cormac’s head, a wordless apology, even as he kept moving with Artemis’s hands. This was too much, this was too deep — he should never be that far into anyone’s mouth, but Artie just kept pulling him deeper in. Another jolt from Cormac, and he tensed and arched, despite himself, plunging in even further, with a warm, contented sigh, pouring himself down Artemis’s throat. His fingers tightened in Artemis’s hair, as he pulled back, slowly, and he felt Cormac shift, behind him, dropping back to the ground, one hand still lazily squeezing and stroking.
Artemis sucked in air as Anders pulled away, pressed a hand to his numb and swollen lips. A breathless laugh shook his shoulders. "That was… Maker." He coughed, voice sounding raw.
"Don’t think it was the Maker," Fenris rumbled, sounding a bit dazed himself. He pressed a kiss to Artemis’s shoulder and slid out carefully.
Artie sucked in a breath at the feeling, then pulled up and off his brother, flopping over to lay sprawled out in the grass. He felt boneless, achy and well-used, and he turned to smile lazily at Cormac. "The Hawkes really do throw the best parties, you know."
Cormac rubbed at his jaw, a laugh bubbling out of him as Anders backed up and curled up along the curve of the path behind his head. "Was that everything you dreamed?" he asked slowly, words thick and just shy of garbled. His tongue was sore from being put to more intense uses than the constant running of his mouth. He reached out a hand and stroked whatever part of Artemis he could reach.
"So," Anders asked, looking at Fenris, "are mages still wholly on your shit list?" He fought to keep the strain off his face — one was just enough to make him want more, and even the evening air against his sloppy-wet knob wasn’t enough to relieve that. ‘You could stab me in the dick,’ he’d once said to Nate, and the more time passed, the more he realised he might not have been kidding. A Warden’s knob bowed for no man, including the Warden it was attached to. Well, at least not until several hours of polishing had passed.
Fenris harrumphed and settled in the grass too, sitting crosslegged by Artemis’s head, fingers brushing back his mage’s sweat-lank hair. He’d rather sprawl too but suspected it wouldn’t be comfortable in this corset. The spikes had been a good idea at the time, but now he was starting to regret them.
"Wholly? No." Fenris grinned toothily at Anders, who rolled his eyes at the non-answer. But Fenris hadn’t threatened to kill him, hadn’t shoved him away, had even allowed Anders’s touch. Overall, he’d consider that a victory.
Artemis purred at all the petting and wriggled back until his head was pillowed in Fenris’s lap, throwing one leg over Cormac. It was a bit awkward, with the ripples in the landscape, but he was too boneless to care. "How’s the flagpole?" he asked Anders.
Anders grimaced. "I’m trying to figure out how to get back into the house, without flashing the entire party. I could try tucking it under the bottom of my corset, again, I suppose, but that’s just going to hurt."
"Or you could cram it in my ass and quit whining," Cormac suggested, rolling onto his side, without moving Artie’s leg.
"I thought I should spare Fenris the sight and sound of his two least-favourite Kirkwall mages engaging in things that didn’t involve him or his favourite mage." Anders aimed for at least slightly tactful. Not that he was usually one to object to a few rounds with an enthusiastic partner, in front of people he’d just had sex with, but Fenris was something of a special case. They were just finally getting somewhere, and he really didn’t want to ruin that.
"They don’t have to not involve us," Artemis offered, which was, perhaps, a bit ambitious considering the state of him. Maybe after a nap. "Just… give me ten minutes?"
Fenris chuffed, hearing the way Artie’s words ran together. "In ten minutes you’ll be snoring, Amatus."
"I don’t snore," Artie mumbled, eyes slipping closed. "Do I snore? No, I don’t."
"Well, you kick in your sleep."
Anders pointed at Cormac. "He fucks in his sleep."
"Only you, apparently. Izzy was a little annoyed when she found out I did that to you and not to her." Cormac laughed and rubbed his face. "Come here, before you say anything worse about me."
"I’m not sure I can say anything your brother doesn’t already know," Anders teased, sliding down behind Cormac and resting Artie’s foot on his ribs. He pressed himself gently against Cormac’s back, one hand stroking and tugging at the thick, black fluff on Cormac’s chest. "What do you think? If I go slow and keep petting you, will you fall asleep, too?"
Cormac snorted. "You’re the one who usually falls asleep. Which, to be fair, is why I pry you away from Justice, sometimes."
"Do you?" A flicker of fear shot through Anders at the thought. How many hours he couldn’t remember. How many days… Waking up to Cormac leaning over him, kissing his neck, as the words he meant to write vanished and Justice let go. How had he not realised that was Cormac negotiating with Justice?
"Of course I do. You need to sleep, occasionally, and I happen to think that’s a much better way of getting there than passing out into fresh ink." Cormac wiggled his hips and reached back to squeeze Anders’s hip. "You going to do this, or are you just going to lie here and be angsty? Don’t tell me you’re not. I can feel it in my spine."
Anders bit Cormac’s shoulder in reply, not quite hard enough to bruise but just hard enough to frustrate Cormac. "There’s still the matter of our audience, you know," he said against that shoulder, looking across at Artie and Fenris. He kept tracing shapes in Cormac’s chest hair.
Fenris watched the pair out of the corner of his eye, keeping his expression indifferent. "You didn’t seem to mind this ‘audience’ so much in the Deep Roads," he reminded Anders wryly. "It’s not like I haven’t had to endure it before." Which was as close to giving permission as he was going to get.
Artemis smirked against Fenris’s thigh, his foot rubbing Cormac’s side.
"We were all pretty drunk, last time," Anders muttered against the back of Cormac’s shoulder. "And even if you did like looking at us, this isn’t going to be very sexy to watch. I’d really rather it didn’t take several hours — there’s still a party going on, and someone’s going to notice we’re missing eventually. And I think Sigrun knows why we’re missing, which is going to end in all kinds of wild rumours before the night is out. Just rather we not get caught like this."
"So stop talking and hurry up." Cormac landed a sharp pinch on Anders’s ass.
Anders cast against Cormac’s belly and twisted his hips until he could slowly push in, fingers still tugging at the fluff. His teeth sank in hard, this time, and Cormac moaned, encouragingly.
"Wish you hadn’t used so much grease," Cormac muttered, rocking his hips back against Anders.
"I’ll use less, later, when you can enjoy it. Right now I just need — That!" Anders squeaked. "Do that again. Do that a lot of agains."
Cormac smirked at his brother and worked his hips in that way he knew Anders loved, squeezing tight, the whole time. He was relatively sure he could keep this quick. He’d been doing this long enough to know all the tricks, including the flicker of current he pressed to a bared scar in Anders’s shoulder.
Artemis shifted his cheek against Fenris’s thigh to get a better look, watching the way his brother’s hips twisted. It was sexy enough for him, if not for Fenris, and it made him wish he had the energy to join in. For his part, Fenris pretended not to watch as he continued to pet his mage’s hair, fingers toying with the edge of one rounded ear.
Anders rutted into Cormac, breath leaving him in quiet exhales against Cormac’s shoulder. He didn’t need to be the one on watch this time, and he could let go, could trust Fenris and Artie — well, Fenris — to keep an eye out. Or a pointed ear out.
"Next time, we’ll try it with those potions," he heard Artemis say.
"Next time?" Fenris asked, eyebrows shooting up. He would deny his ears twitched.
Artie smiled sheepishly and shrugged.
"Next time shouldn’t be in the middle of a party," Cormac panted, each thrust from Anders jarring the breath out of him. His corset wasn’t that tight, but Anders’s arm around his waist was. He would definitely be spending the rest of this party standing up.
A choked gasp, and Anders sank his teeth into Cormac’s shoulder, again, hooking his leg over Cormac’s hip, as his eyes squeezed closed and he pounded in harder and faster. The rush ran through him, spilled out of him, and he didn’t slow down at all, using one as a springboard into the next. His breathing grew ragged, but barely louder than it had been as he rammed his aching knob into Cormac, over and over.
Cormac was reduced to half-coherent begging, thoughts cut off by each new thrust, a jumble of words that didn’t quite fit together, all alike in tone. He pleaded with Anders for more, to make his body ache all night. One hand squeezed and kneaded Artemis’s calf, in time to the rhythm of thrusting and throbbing inside him.
Fenris stopped pretending he wasn’t staring as he watched this display. He’d forgotten how insatiable Anders was once he got started, or at least, he hadn’t forgotten but he hadn’t seen it in a while.
Artemis looked up at him. "Mages?" he suggested.
Fenris shook his head. "Wardens," he huffed instead.
Anders’s teeth worried at Cormac’s shoulder as he continued to thrust, aware only of the tight heat around him and the pleading sounds in his ear. The wet sounds of skin on skin filled the clearing, and Anders tasted blood as he spilled again.
Minutes passed, and between distraction and exhaustion time became liquid, as the clearing filled with the smell of blood, sweat, and sex. Cormac writhed in Anders’s arms, skin hot with exertion and desire, as Anders reached down and cupped a hand between his legs, squeezing just a little too hard, pressing the heel of his palm against the base of Cormac’s knob, which still struggled to take an interest in the proceedings. But Cormac’s nerves lit, all the same, under that familiar pressure, that edge of pain and pleasure rushing up into his belly. He gave up words, entirely, bucking between Anders’s hips and hand.
"Come for me," Anders breathed against Cormac’s ear. "You feel so good inside. So many, so fast, can you feel what you do to me? Next one’s going to hurt. Might be the last one, for now, and I want to take you with me."
Cormac really didn’t think he could — not yet, anyway — but Anders’s voice, and the crushing hand around his bits, he didn’t even get hard, he just came, spurting over Anders’s fingers. And then thinking just wasn’t a thing, any more, and he drifted in the space between the incredible ache in his hips and the faint lick of evening air across his skin, as Anders bit him one more time, this time, with a sharp, little squeak of pain, but still almost silent.
And then they fell almost still, Anders clutching Cormac to his chest, Cormac’s hips very slowly rocking, both of them breathing deeply, Cormac panting and Anders breathing quietly, meditatively.
Once their breathing had evened out, Fenris cleared his throat awkwardly. Anders peered up at him around Cormac to see one ear twitching. "Are you two finished yet?" the elf groused. "Or do you plan to drill a hole through Cormac straight through to the other side?"
Anders smirked, stretching his toes and wriggling until a clump of grass wasn’t pressing into his thigh. "I’ll save that trick for the next party," he said.
Artemis was snoring lightly in Fenris’s lap.
"Shit, Anders, if you fuck me into the Deep Roads, I think there are going to be some profoundly irritated dwarves. And you’re probably still not going to like the place, no matter how we got there," Cormac joked, easing himself off of Anders, before attempting the buckle on his loincloth. Not quite as easy as robes, but not bad. He’d be willing to consider wearing something like this again. He gently bent Artie’s leg off his side and laid it atop Artie’s other leg. "I think we wore him out. I might even be a little surprised, honestly, but I guess you two started earlier, didn’t you?"
"Started and finished, before you got involved," Fenris grumbled.
Cormac staggered to his feet, while Anders fumbled with his clothes. "You seem to have volunteered to be the pillow, tonight. I’ll bring you some wine and tarts, once we get back inside. Do you want a blanket? You’re not wearing much, even if it is leather."
"Mm. That would be acceptable, yes." Fenris rubbed at one arm, aware of the chill now that Cormac had mentioned it. "Thank you." Artemis shifted in his sleep. Fenris’s hand returned to his hair, and his mage relaxed again.
Anders toyed with the fabric around his legs until it sat right, and then he stooped to pick up the lime blossom crown that had started all this. "Now that you have properly earned this," he teased, setting it atop Cormac’s head. "Shall we?"
Cormac took off the crown and laid it on the side of Artie’s head. "King of the boudoir? No, no, I think this goes to Artie. I’m impressed, if still a little unsettled." He hooked his arm through Anders’s. "Tarts, wine, blanket. We’ll be right back."
A few steps back out into the garden, Cormac’s voice echoed back, as he discovered the drying spatter on his corset. "Aw, shit."
Anders just laughed.