Jun 132015
 

[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody In Ass Major – Chapter 100
Co-Conspirator: TumblrMaverikLoki
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Cormac Hawke , Artemis Hawke , Anders , Fenris
Rating: E (L4 N0 S2 V0 D0)
Warnings: Cormac’s mouth, Cormac’s ass, hot Hawke-on-Hawke action
Notes: Cormac gets around to exactly what Artie’s been hoping for. But, Artie is merciless, all the same.


Coming back out, Cormac definitely looked drunk — legs shaking, leaning on his brother for support, face a little grey. Just another drunk, stumbling through Lowtown.

Anders fell in beside Fenris. "Do you think he’s actually going to do it, or do you think he’s just going to fall down in the road?"

Fenris hummed and tilted his head, considering. "Ten silver says he falls over before he does."

Anders watched the way Cormac’s legs wobbled and considered not taking that bet. But then again, this was Cormac. "You know what? I’ll take that bet. Cormac is a stubborn ass, especially when it comes to his brother’s ass."

Artemis flashed them a grin over his shoulder. "Betting with silver," he tutted. "How boring."

"I am not betting with anything else," Fenris insisted, eyes a bit wide.

"I’m not betting anything that’s going to leave me with less clothes or a fist in my chest!" Anders protested. "There are some other things that aren’t silver that might be acceptable, but none of them are gold."

They almost made it to the bridge. But, just before it were a dozen little nooks and alleys, usually full of beggars and thieves, but the city had calmed somewhat, as the refugees settled out and built places for themselves. There were far fewer people waiting to beg or rob the traders coming over the bridge.

The vibration changed again, and Cormac made a pained sound, before shifting his weight against Artemis. Shit. Force mage. "Artie? You’re getting a warning, because I don’t want to die. Also because I’d really like it if you actually moved. I’m eyeing the next niche to the left. You want it? You want me? You want me to fuck you up against the wall, just far enough in that no one can see us, but we can hear everyone else walking by? You want to add a stain to that wall, and every time we walk through here, you’ll know that your big brother held you down and fucked every last drop out of you, all over that wall?" Cormac was willing to grant that just maybe he didn’t need a potion, this time. Still gave him chills, in the back of his mind, but the chills could be pushed aside by the clattering in his guts.

Cormac had barely finished talking before Artemis tightened his grip about his waist, his other hand bunching in Cormac’s robes as he dragged his brother into the appointed niche. Artie pulled his brother against him and nipped at his lip. "Like you don’t know the answer to that," he purred. "Or did you just want to hear me beg? Oh Cormac, please Cormac, fuck me up against this wall, Cormac." The vibration shifted again, and he grinned.

"You owe me ten silver," Anders told Fenris, peeking in at the brothers.

"I’m not sure that counts," Fenris replied. "Artemis all but hauled him over there."

"But Cormac didn’t fall over. That was the bet." Anders held out his palm and wriggled his fingers.

Fenris huffed and passed over the coin, stepping into the mouth of the alley to lean against one wall and watch the street.

Cormac struggled to stay standing, one hand clutching at Artemis’s shoulder and the other picking at the knots on his trousers. "You should really consider wearing robes. You should also really consider that if you kick that up too much, I’m going to be the only one of us getting a happy ending, here."

Finally solving the problem of the knots, Cormac yanked Artemis’s trousers down just far enough, before spinning him around and slamming him against the wall, shoulders first. There was a limit to his depravity and that limit stopped him from pressing any unclothed parts of his neurotically clean brother against this sort of rank wall. He sucked two of his fingers, with a wet, obscene noise, and then shoved them into his brother. There were grease spells for combat and grease spells for the bedroom, and then there was this one, which bridged the gap. Cormac considered it payback for the fact that he couldn’t feel some of the more important muscles in his ass any more, and a jet of grease shot up from his fingertips. "Gravity works," he purred.

Artemis gasped, hips twitching forward. "Ass," he growled affectionately. It reminded him of the time Fenris upended a bottle of oil into his ass, and he bit his lip around a grin. Artie glanced back towards the street and saw an elf-shaped shadow next to a mage-shaped shadow, before he returned his attention back to his brother.

This wall truly was rank, but Artemis braced his forearms against it.

"Ass, indeed. Seems to be the theme of the day," Cormac growled, lining himself up and swapping his fingers for his knob. He thought he’d had something else to say, but apparently he’d been wrong, because any thought he might have had fled directly, as he buried himself deep in that tight, slick hole. Another pained sound wrung out of him as he tried to remember which parts of his body he needed to maintain control over, to make this work.

After a moment of shaking and panting, he wrapped one hand — the still-slick one — around Artemis’s knob and rolled his hips. "This isn’t going to last. I’m sorry," he apologised, before setting a punishing pace with his hips.

Anders tugged at the inseam of his trousers. "Ever considered wearing looser pants?" he asked Fenris, eyes lingering on the dimly-lit brothers.

"It has been considered," Fenris admitted, eyeing the street for a moment longer before glancing back at the entwined mages. "You are, however, the last person I’d go to for fashion advice." He gave Anders’s feathered shoulders a pointed look before turning back to more interesting sights. "And Artemis likes my tight pants."

Anders could concede that point, even if he felt offended on his feathers’ behalf. The sounds filtering back to them cut off any argument he may have had. Next to him, Fenris tried not to squirm in an obvious way.

Artemis’s fingers scrabbled at stone, breaths leaving him in pants and shivery pleas to the Maker. "Maker. Maker. Cormac." He was going to be rattling as hard as Cormac’s ass if this pace kept up.

"I’m sorry," Cormac gasped, clutching at Artemis with one hand and the wall with the other, as his knees tried to surrender again and he emptied himself into his brother out of time with the vibrations that still rippled between his hips. That Artie could keep that going under the circumstances was impressive.

His vision flashed white, then black, and the only thing he could feel was the movement of his hand and the shivering between his hips. For a very long and precarious moment, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stay standing, or even if he’d already fallen. The world was gelatinous and nonsensical for a bit, but he just kept stroking his brother’s throbbing knob.

"How many hours have we been out?" Anders asked, conversationally. "I’m trying to figure out how long I’m going to be stuck walking around like this."

"I’d say… three? Maybe four?" Fenris answered in the same tone, as though he weren’t in the same condition. "Perhaps Cormac should wager a shorter time next time, for the sake of everyone’s sanity."

Fenris listened to the sounds still coming from the alley, the slide of wet skin and his mage’s breaths. He could tell from sound alone how close Artie was. "And…" Fenris said, one finger in the air. "Earthquake." No sooner had he said it than the cobblestones under their feet began to shake.

"Maybe you should have bet on that," Anders said, sounding impressed.

Back in the alley, Artemis leaned against the wall, legs shaking under him. The vibrating had stopped with the earthquake, at least for the moment, as he tried to get his breathing back under control. Artie reached back and laced Cormac’s fingers with his. "For the record," he said, still a bit breathless, "this alley is disgusting. Not that I wouldn’t do it again, but… ew." He grinned over his shoulder at Cormac. He would probably need to bathe twice later to feel better, but right now he could ignore it.

"I’m not sure there are any alleys in Lowtown that aren’t disgusting." Cormac pressed a kiss behind Artie’s ear. "And I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but I’m trying to tell you what to do. If you want this thing to stay in me, well… first I have to make sure it’s still there, and then I think you might have to stop the vibrations for a little bit. I can’t feel my ass. And that means I might not be able to keep it in."

Cormac eased back, until Artie was standing, instead of leaning on the wall, slowly sliding out with the motion, with a squishy, wet sound. Still holding on to Artie’s hand, he brought up his other hand and licked it clean, before reaching back to make sure the plug was still there. He hadn’t heard it fall, but… he really couldn’t feel his ass, and it was extremely unsettling. Fortunately, both his ass and the plug were where he’d left them, and he adjusted his robes, letting them fall.

"Sorry about your pants," he said, with a hint of amusement.

"You know," Anders said, just as casually, "if they’re going to keep leaving us out, we could just take matters into our own hands, and leave them to watch."

Fenris looked askance at Anders. "And just what, exactly, are you implying, mage?"

The elf’s tone was only slightly hostile, which Anders considered progress. "Oh, I don’t think I need to spell it out for you," he replied pleasantly. "Just a thought."

Artemis came up next to them, walking a bit stiffly and looking sheepish. "I think I might need a change of trousers," he said. The glare he shot over his shoulder at Cormac had no heat to it.

"Or you could just do away with the trousers altogether," Anders suggested. "I doubt Kirkwall would mind."

"Let’s keep my brother’s pants on at least until we get back to the house. I don’t think Kirkwall’s prepared for quite that level of glory. Men discovering an interest in buttocks, widows blinded by the perfect beauty — it’d be a madhouse. The Qunari would take the city within the hour." Cormac shrugged, loosely, and wrapped an arm around Anders, trying to look like he hadn’t just had mind-blowing sex in a filthy alley. Mind-blowing, if only because of the several hours preceding it. His hips twitched, as he walked, the feeling slowly working its way back into his ass and the tops of his thighs.

"Some days, Cormac, I look at you and remember why I used to wear robes. I just wish they were more suitable for the work I’m doing, but the draping cloth just ends up in everything. And, you know, it’s a great big ‘hello, I’m a mage’ sign." Anders sighed and looked out into the sea, as they crossed the bridge. "But, I do miss the simplicity."

"You know, all of Kirkwall knows you’re a mage. You could just go back to wearing robes. You’re a Warden. Nobody cares," Cormac reminded him.

"Justice prefers pants," Anders sighed.

"Now there’s a phrase I never thought I’d hear," Artemis said. "Do you hear that, Cormac? Pants are more just."

Fenris sighed and looked at Anders, hoping this didn’t turn into a mage rant on robes and about how ‘pants were a sign of oppression’ or something. "Just pants," Fenris echoed.

"Just pants and nothing else?" Artie teased. "I’m not sure Kirkwall is ready for that, either."

Fenris chuffed and wrapped an arm around his mage as they walked two-by-two into Hightown. After a few minutes, a familiar buzzing picked up.

"Hnnngh!" Cormac suddenly curled in on himself, wrapping around Anders’s side, caught by surprise after so long without it. Just when he’d finally started walking normally, again, too, which was probably what Artie had spotted. A few seconds and he caught his breath. And that vibration was in the worst possible place, right now.

"We should get back to the house." Cormac’s voice was a bit high as he picked up the pace, just a little quicker than Anders usually walked, damn his long legs.

"You all right?" Anders asked, momentarily concerned. "Vibrations at that intensity, for that long… I’m a little worried about—"

"Fine. Just move. Not serious, just a little uncomfortable." Cormac’s grin looked a little strained.

Fenris and Artemis exchanged glances and picked up the pace to keep up. Twelve hours of this? Fenris hurt just thinking about it.

Bodhan and Mintaka greeted them at the door with different levels of enthusiasm. Although Artie suspected Bodhan would be wagging his tail too if he had one, even a stump of one like Mintaka’s. "Hello, messeres," he said as they pushed past him. "Have you had lunch yet? Shall I whip up something for messere and his guests?"

"Lunch, yes. That’s a great idea." Cormac didn’t stop moving toward the stairs, even as he turned around and grinned at Bodhan. "Make that happen. I’m just going to… " He turned and bolted up the stairs.

"I’ve got five copper that was the piss he didn’t take before we left the Hanged Man. Which reminds me, I should probably put some water out before I put any more water in." Anders excused himself as the door of Cormac’s room slammed, upstairs.

Artemis bit his cheek against a smirk at his brother’s display.

"Is betting with you two always like this?" Fenris asked. First the Orlesian maid’s outfit, now this…

"If we’re not using silver?" Artie shrugged. "This one’s fairly new, at least." He shifted his weight and grimaced. "I need to… pants." To change them, more specifically, but he was sure Fenris understood the gist. And also to clean the alley off of him.

Fenris nodded. "Go forth and… pants," he said as Artemis disappeared upstairs. That left Fenris alone with Mintaka. "Hello." The dog sat on his feet.

"DAMN IT, ARTEMIS!" Cormac’s shout echoed through the halls. "My boots!? Was that necessary?" More distinctly frustrated noises followed, and after a few minutes, Cormac appeared again, with one damp boot. "And the rug!" he yelled, looking for his brother. "You wouldn’t do this, if you still lived here!"

Bodhan appeared in the room below. "Is everything all right, messere?"

"Yes. It’s fine. My brother and I are just… having a somewhat complicated disagreement." Cormac looked profoundly annoyed as he made his way down the stairs. He supposed he should be glad it was just his boot and not his robes. His boots had been in worse things.

Fenris eyed the soggy boot and stepped back out of its path, wriggling his toes out from under Mintaka. "Is that…? That’s what I think it is, isn’t it."

A door opened upstairs. "What are you shouting about now, Cormac?" Artemis appeared at the top of the stairs in different trousers, and Fenris had to wonder where he’d gotten them. Did he still have clothes here or had he stolen Anton’s? "Did you ruin your boots?" Artie’s shit-eating grin said he knew the answer to both those questions.

Fenris looked down at Mintaka. "Mages." The dog whuffed in agreement.