[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody In Ass Major – Chapter 153
Co-Conspirator: MaverikLoki
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Anders ♂, Cormac Hawke ♂
Rating: E (L3 N4 S4 V0 D0)
Warnings: Klismaphilia, floriography, the internet is for porn
Notes: Anders decides he's actually serious. Cormac's unsure about this whole thing, but if Anders wants it, he'll do it.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Anders asked for what had to be the fifteenth time, in as many minutes. "I mean, don't… don't do this just for me."
"Anders?" Cormac set down the pitcher of water and put his arms around Anders, gently stroking his back.
"What?"
"Do you want to do this?" Cormac asked. "I'm not just doing it for you. I'm doing it because of how you described it. I'm doing it because the idea of making you slosh amuses me and turns me on. But, if you've changed your mind, then we just go to bed, and you do whatever you want with me, until we pass out. That always works out well."
"Usually turns out well. Not always." Anders rested his chin on Cormac's head."I don't know if I want it. That's the problem. I've only ever been anywhere near something like this while I was too drunk to see. But, it stuck with me. I don't know if it's any good, sober. I never had any warning. It's always been horrifyingly disgusting, after, but I'm a healer. There's magic and other things for that, if I'm doing this on purpose. So, however it turns out, it should be … less disgusting than the last I don't really want to talk about how many times."
Cormac knew better than to ask too many questions. Some things, Anders just didn't talk about, and some things, Justice got a little wound up about. Either way, asking wasn't going to end well for anyone involved.
"I just want to get it out of my head. If it's good, great. If it's terrible, it'll go away." Anders sighed and stared at the ceiling. "Are you sure about this?"
"After all the times I've scared the fuck out of you, you even have to ask?" Cormac laughed, quietly. "I owe you some weird. This doesn't even sound like bad weird. We'll do it on the floor, with a blanket. Worst case, we lose a blanket. It's been five years, Anders. It's going to take more than a couple quarts of warm water to scare me off."
Anders pressed his lips to Cormac's forehead and stepped back. "Go make tea," he said. "I can't… You can't watch me do this. Just give me half an hour, and come back. I'll know if I mean it, by then. Go send flowers to Artie or something. That'll take a little bit, the way you two go back and forth."
"You take good care of my gorgeous magical unicorn," Cormac warned, squeezing Anders's hand one more time.
Anders groaned. "Get out, before I stab you with something a lot less pleasant than my horn."
Cormac got out, still laughing, and headed upstairs. He knew the things Anders didn't let anyone see mostly had some relation to templars, and the thought pissed him off more than any number of other recent events. Scared him some, too, if he was honest with himself. Less the depravity involved and more that Anders — completely sober — wanted something they'd done to him. But, then, it was also usually much more complicated than that.
He put on the pot for tea, not even thinking to use magic. Anders had said to take time, so there was no rush. Dried dahlia, he thought. That had always been a bit of a joke with Artemis. Usually it was dried dahlia and yellow rose. 'Sorry I made a mess.' This time, though, dahlia… agrimony, and … vandal aria, he thought. Maybe a daffodil tied with snowdrop. 'A mess. Be glad you're not here. Not sure, but hoping for the best.' He sketched out a note and stuck it in the clip by the door. Bodhan would get to it, at some point.
Pouring himself a cup of tea, Cormac wondered how long that had taken. Not long enough. He drank the tea and paced. What he was being asked to do wasn't so bad. It sounded like the kind of thing with the potential to end in a vile mess they'd be laughing about for years, but there was nothing wrong with that, really. He was just worried about Anders's reactions. That they were doing something Anders was so completely mortified by — because Anders asked for it. Something wasn't right, and it wasn't his place to ask. If Anders wanted him to know, he'd know.
A few more cups of tea and the pot was empty. Cormac headed back downstairs, slowly, listening for any sign he should turn around. He heard nothing, and the bedroom door was closed, two cats eyeing him critically from their perches on Anders's desk. He knocked. "You good, or should I go make more tea?"
"I'm as good as I'm going to get!" Anders's voice was higher pitched than usual. Nervous. Cormac read it as a good sign. If Anders was showing nerves, it wasn't serious.
Opening the door, Cormac found Anders naked, on his elbows and knees on a blanket, back bowed, book under his hands. "Waiting long?"
"I'm still warm." An anxious chuckle escaped Anders, as he closed the book and shoved it under the bed.
"Good. I like it when you're warm." Cormac smiled warmly, closing the door behind him, to keep the cats out.
"You always think I'm warm," Anders scoffed.
"You're always warmer than the floor!" Cormac tugged off his robes and tossed them on the bed, before he knelt beside Anders. "You want me?"
There was a pause, while Anders chewed on his lip. He nodded, finally. "I do."
"Soon," Cormac said, slowly running his hands along Anders's back. "Won't take long. You're just as gorgeous as you were when I went upstairs. Possibly moreso, in this position."
"Your increasingly randy tomcat has one request…" Anders laughed against his forearms. That was a long-standing thing, between the two of them, and the request was implied.
"Is that a fact?" Cormac asked, moving to kneel behind Anders, hands sliding down to caress that slightly-distended belly.
"Mmm, yes." Anders relaxed into it, the stiffness in his upper back softening.
"You're right. You are still warm. Andraste's tits, I just want to curl up on you." Cormac was a little surprised at how well the warmth radiated through Anders's body.
"We'd both be very wet, if you did that." Anders laughed again, self-conscious. "Is this… Are you…?"
Cormac shifted forward, pressing his length along the crack of Anders's ass. "After all these years, you have to ask?"
"I'm hopelessly vain. I like the reminder." There was a long silence, in which Anders just relaxed into Cormac's touch. "Cormac, please… I want you."
"So very impatient!" Cormac teased, calling up a bit of grease into his hand, as Anders spread his knees wider, settling down to where Cormac could reach easily.
"Don't tease me, not tonight. If you want this, just take me." A shiver ran down Anders's spine. What was he even doing? This was madness. It was beyond stupid.
"If I want this? Of course I want this. It's you." Cormac stopped spreading the grease onto himself, mid-stroke. "Hey, your idea. You sure about this?"
"No." Anders laughed against his forearms. "Do it anyway."
"Tell me," Cormac said, lining himself up, as he stroked his clean hand down Anders's spine. "Tell me what you want, and I'll do my best. I don't care how stupid it sounds — you know how ridiculous I sound, when you get me started. Half of what I ask for isn't even possible, and I want it anyway. You cannot possibly ask for anything weirder than the things that have come out of my mouth."
"Werecat," Anders choked out, mid-snicker, and Cormac groaned.
"See? You can't beat that."
"I wouldn't try!" Slowly, Anders remembered how to breathe, and stopped cackling. "I want you in me, Cormac. Always feels so good when you're inside me."
Cormac pushed in, achingly slowly, caressing as much of Anders as he could reach, as he moved. "Like this?"
Anders shivered under him, soundless, but poised in a way that Cormac knew meant he was enjoying it. His hips shifted, bottom wiggling, as he pressed back against Cormac.
"Talk to me, Anders. I need to know you're still with me."
"I'm fine. It's good," Anders breathed against his forearms. "Fuck me like you mean it, Cormac."
"You taking lessons from Artemis?" Cormac joked, grinding in slow and deep.
Anders groaned. "I'm going to smack you so hard you're going to need to rescue your face from the cats."
"And I thought you were going to discourage me from saying things like that!"
The joking made it easier for both of them to do things they weren't sure of, and neither of them had any idea how this would end up, but they'd go in together. Cormac picked up a gentle pace — slow, long strokes that ended as deep as he could get. Anders rocked back, encouragingly. They were so much different with each other, this way. No blood, no screaming, no rowdy teasing and shoving — Cormac was always slow and gentle with Anders, in exactly the way he didn't want Anders to be with him.