[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody In Ass Major – Chapter 158
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Cormac Hawke ♂, Artemis Hawke ♂
Rating: M (L2 N3 S3 V0 D0)
Warnings: Blasphemy, hot Hawke-on-Hawke action
Notes: A hot bath is the answer to so many things.
Artemis closed his eyes, his sigh a gust of breath against Cormac’s ear. He remembered how Anders had felt, how deep he’d taken him that first time, how hard it had been to walk after but how terribly worth it. He remembered that time on the couch, the three of them moving in tandem with each other. "I rode him the first time, too," Artie murmured. He paused to nibble at the shell of Cormac’s ear. "He was so careful with me. So slow and gentle, like I was something precious he was afraid to break." He usually liked it rough, but that time, ‘rough’ hadn’t been what he needed. "I kept thinking about how you’d been with him the same way, that you knew just how deep that flagpole went and how good it felt." Though really, at the time, he’d been trying hard not to think of that, the same way he’d been trying not to think about how Fenris had felt and sounded.
And now, Artemis wished there was something he could do for Anders but knew he needed space. Cormac, however, needed a distraction. "Fuck me, Cormac," he growled, the twist of his hips, the motion of his hand growing more insistent. "Or would you like me to fuck you?"
Cormac opened his mouth, and the words just tumbled out of him. "Let me adore you, little brother. Let me worship you with my body, with my hands, with my mouth. Let me praise every moment of joy you give me — but, I should probably try to keep that at least a little less loud, if you’re worried about the neighbours." The corner of his mouth twitched, and he looked away. "Just please don’t fall apart on me. I don’t know if I can take it twice in one night." His breath caught in his throat. "And do you know why he treats you like you’re precious? It’s because you are. Maybe you’re not as delicate as either of us is afraid of — you’ve survived my stupidity long enough — but you’re … you’re you, and it’s all I need you to be."
Artemis still didn’t quite know what to do with all the adoring words pouring out of Cormac, but he let them wash over him. "Not going to fall apart, Cormac," he murmured, pressing a kiss to his brother’s cheek. "Whatever you want. Whatever you want, it’s yours." Artie pulled back to press their foreheads together, his free hand gentle on the side of Cormac’s face. "And there are rooms with beds, you know, if you prefer that." He grinned.
"As long as it’s not Fenris’s bed, I’m entirely in favour of beds. Possibly also baths." Cormac grinned wickedly, as a thought occurred to him. "What if we wash first? And then, maybe you’ll let me rub oils into your skin… I’ve learnt some things from Anders, you know. And then… Then perhaps I’ll really make you smile, at least between all the gasping and choking on my name. I’ll leave you needing another bath and too worn out to get up and take one. And maybe, if I can still get my legs under me, I’ll carry you back to the bath and rinse you clean. I’ll even sleep in the wet spot, if you’ll let me stay with you, which I know I shouldn’t. It’s not my place."
"I already told you you could stay," Artemis murmured, bumping Cormac’s nose with his. "And this house is full of rooms I never use. A few with beds, in them. Seems a waste, really." He grinned, kissed his brother one more time and slid off his lap, letting him go and pulling his trousers back up, tying them loosely around his hips. "Come on." Artie took Cormac’s hand and led him upstairs, nudging him towards the guest bathroom. "I’ll send Orana out for a bit. Get the bath started?" He gave Cormac’s ass a promising squeeze and disappeared back downstairs for a few minutes.
Cormac argued with the pump, until the water ran freely. He took his time examining the little extras in the room — soaps and oils in scents he doubted were his brother’s or Fenris’s. He picked a soap that smelled like some sort of orange, and left it on the side of the bath, as he warmed the water. Always just a little too hot, because he loved the feeling of lifting his arm out of the water, into the cool air, and watching the steam rise up off his flesh. One of those foolish things he’d been doing so long, he sometimes forgot not to. Anders was much less fond of scalding baths. And Artie… Cormac realised he had no idea what temperature his brother liked a bath. It had never been important, when they were young and throwing themselves into rivers.
The tall cupboard beside the mirror contained towels, and he shook two for moths, just to be sure, since Artemis had said the room was unused. When nothing fluttered out, he set them on the edge of the washstand. By the time his brother returned, he was in the water and half-clean — clean enough he didn’t smell like Anders’s sweat, which seemed like something of a loss, really. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea.
"Hey." Artemis returned, approached to card fingers through Cormac’s hair. He pulled off his tunic and folded it, placing it next to the towels. The rest of his clothing followed in similar fashion, folded and stacked neatly off to the side. Kneeling next to the tub, Artie slid his arms around his brother’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Do you still want this?" he asked, seeing the lost look in Cormac’s eyes. "It’s okay if you change your mind. We could just get clean and go to bed. Just to sleep. Or we could pull the covers up over our heads and make up ridiculous stories like we used to when we were kids." He chuckled at the memory.
Cormac’s eyes squeezed shut, and he took a long moment to answer. "Just get in here and wash your hands before you accidentally lick your fingers. You’ll kill me." He lifted his own hands out of the water and rubbed them over his face. "I just grabbed my robes and ducked out, you know? Didn’t think I was going farther than upstairs, but… You, ah…" He coughed awkwardly. "If you don’t want to do this, just tell me. I know it’s not really your thing. But, wash your hands, first."
He always assumed, when someone offered him an out, that they wanted it for themselves, but didn’t want to be seen as the one who’d backed out. So, he turned it, like he always did.
"Of course, if you’re still in, I could wash them for you. And when we’re done, and we’re too tired to move, we can tell stupid stories until you pass out in the middle of a sentence, like you used to do. You’d say the weirdest shit, when you started to fade. I’d keep pinching myself, just so I wouldn’t miss all the half-asleep rambling about elves and explosions, or the snake that was really a fruit, or whatever it was you were on about that time." Cormac laughed and dropped his hands back into the water, grinning at his brother.
Artie chuckled against Cormac’s shoulder, feathering one last kiss to the skin there before pulling back. "At least I had the excuse of being half asleep," he replied. "You say the weirdest things even when you’re wide awake." Artemis climbed into the tub, nestling between Cormac’s legs and wriggling until his back was flush with his brother’s chest, and he melted into hot water and against hot skin, feeling Cormac’s chest expand with every breath. "And of course I’m in, you dolt," Artemis said affectionately, squeezing his brother’s thigh underwater. He kept his hands submerged, wondering why Cormac was so insistent on his washing them, even though he was certain he didn’t want to know. Even though he was certain it had to do with whatever he and Anders had been up to.
"At least I usually have the excuse of being fucked within an inch of my life," Cormac laughed, picking up the soap and lathering his hands, before he stroked them down his brother’s chest, gently caressing and kneading the flesh. "I love that you’re willing to spoil me like this. Not that I’m not just as happy to throw you down and have my way with you, but… I don’t want that to be the only way you remember me, when I’m too old to keep up with your reckless, youthful lusts." He nibbled, teasingly, behind Artie’s ear, and wondered if that was something he’d picked up from Anders. He couldn’t remember when that had become something he did, but he knew he’d started doing it more with Anders, at the very least.
Artemis chuffed, arching into Cormac’s touch. "You’re giving me a hot bath and a massage, and I’m the one spoiling you?" He shook his head before scooching down so he could rest his head back on Cormac’s shoulder. "If that’s all that’s involved, I’d be happy to spoil you on a regular basis." He sighed, eyes sliding closed as he focused on those hands, on those kneading fingers and the warmth they trailed down his skin. A pleased hum rumbled in his throat.
"If you fall asleep in this bath, I am going to be so disappointed." Cormac lathered his hands again, this time working his way down Artie’s arms. "And yeah, you’re the one spoiling me. This whole thing is still so weird, but… so are we. I don’t know if I’d ever have looked at you quite like this — I mean, it’s not like there’s a great lot of naked statues of Andraste, either — if you hadn’t … I don’t even remember. We were drunk, but I know it was you."
He scooped up water and poured it down over Artie’s shoulders. "Scared me. Scared me bad. But, you wanted me, and I wanted to see you smile. I have no regrets. Still worries me, sometimes, like this means I’ve failed you, somehow, but after everything we’ve been through, you still smile at me, and it still means everything." Cormac tipped his head down and kissed his brother’s neck and shoulder. "And apparently, I have very sexy taste in gods, which I will never be sorry about."
Artemis grinned, tilting his head back and offering Cormac the rest of his throat. "You’ll find no arguments here," he murmured. "Though half of me keeps expecting the Maker to strike you down for saying stuff like that. A bolt of lightning or something, and not the sexy kind. A smiting from the Maker. But maybe you’re already smitten." He tipped his hips back, reminding Cormac and his knob that was definitely still awake. "And you haven’t failed me, Cormac. I don’t think you could." There was a part of him that still blamed himself for this, for starting something his brother had never even considered, but this wasn’t the time for guilt or regrets, not from him.
"The Maker would have to be paying attention, in order to smite me. You heard the Grand Cleric: the Maker drags his ass about everything. I’ll be long dead before he can be bothered." Cormac lifted one hand to tug his brother’s hair, licking that long expanse of throat. "Have I not failed you, then? Broken some sacred trust, in leading you to lust for the feel of me, deep in you?" Cormac was only half-serious, and he played it off as a tease, his other hand, still soapy, sliding along Artie’s thigh, only to stop just short, fingers flicking up along one hip, instead.
Water sloshed as Artemis squirmed. "Nope, haven’t failed me yet," he murmured, smirking. "I think the number of earthquakes you’ve caused can attest to that." He ran his hands along Cormac’s thighs, squeezing the taut muscle there. "But you’re welcome to ask me that again later." He arched back more insistently, hips moving in small circles. He would let Cormac do as he pleased tonight, but it was a request for him to stop teasing.
"I’m sure there’s at least another hour in this potion. Do you want me to see how many more earthquakes we can get in that time?" Cormac purred, fingers trailing up to tap a small spark against Artemis’s nipple, just above the water line. "Do you want me inside you until I can’t keep it in? Do you want me to lick you and suck you and put my fingers into you, until you scream for me? Will you make the earth shake for me, my lovely god, if I pray to you all night?" His hands darted and teased, a flick of fingers here, a quick squeeze there. "Of course, you’re in my lap. If you want me to move, you might have to get up, first."
"Maker, Cormac," Artie breathed. He could listen to brother’s insane, filthy suggestions all day. "Or should I be using my own name instead of the Maker’s? No, I’m your god, not mine." He twisted in Cormac’s lap, water lapping against the edge of the tub as he moved. He nipped at Cormac’s lip. "Do you want to try to beat Fenris’s record of most earthquakes in an hour? I believe his was four, but it was hard to count after three. That and the last one barely rattled the bed." Artemis shivered at the memory. That had been a fun night.
Artemis climbed out of the tub, grabbing a towel, and Cormac followed him out, spreading the second towel onto the floor, as he moved. Cormac sank to his knees on one towel and tugged the other one out of his brother’s hands. "Let me," he pleaded, gazing upward, as he started to thoroughly dry one leg, from the bottom up.
Cormac pressed closer, as he began to dry the other leg, licking Artemis’s knob into his mouth, with a low purr that vibrated through his tongue and the flesh he pressed against the roof of his mouth. His hands kept working, turning the towel so he was always using the driest part, as he rubbed the water off his brother’s warm, soft skin. His lips and tongue worked just as hard, and little sounds of contentment buzzed along his tongue, as he licked and sucked.
Artemis clutched his brother’s shoulder, his breathing growing heavier. There was a joke in there about Cormac worshipping on his knees, but it got lost somewhere in the swipe of a tongue and Artie let out a soft moan instead. "Look at you, even keeping my floor dry." He tugged teasingly at Cormac’s hair, twisting the wet locks around his fingers. "You always take good care of me, don’t you?" The tone was teasing, but his eyes were soft.
With an affirmative hum, Cormac looked up longingly. He might have looked like any number of paintings of the faithful, except the part where he had a wizard’s knob in his mouth. Flicking the towel up, he hooked it over Artie’s shoulders, using it for balance as he stood, dragging his tongue up the length of his brother’s body, before ending up in a breathy kiss, as he pulled Artie tight against him. "Will you let me carry you to bed, just as we are? Mind the rest in the morning?" He traced one sparking finger up Artemis’s spine.
Artemis shivered at the touch, wrapping his arms around Cormac and pressing as close as physics would allow. His gaze cut to the side, flitting over the tub full of dirty water, the wet towels, the bath oils that needed to be put back. The mess, however small, was an itch under his skin, but he smiled and ignored it. "You can do whatever you want with me tonight, brother-dear," Artemis murmured against his brother’s lips. A dangerous promise, especially with them, but he meant it. "Guest bedroom is the next door on the left."
Artie suspected Fenris would be home soon from Donnic and Aveline’s, but he would explain the situation and make it up to him later. Cormac needed him tonight.