[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody In Ass Major – Chapter 160
Co-Conspirator: 
MaverikLoki
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Cormac Hawke ♂, Artemis Hawke ♂
Rating: E (L3Â N4 S4 V0 D0)
Warnings: Hot Hawke-on-Hawke action
Notes: Cormac is terribly broken, but Artemis loves him anyway.
Turning his face away, Cormac coughed, and wiped his cheek on the sheets, before he returned to kiss his brother. "How have we managed not to kill each other, all these years? Well, no, I know that. I have shields and you're too cute to die. I didn't even need to want you, to know that. You were always the cute one. I may have squished your dinner into a brick, but I don't think I ever did much worse — not on purpose, anyway. Unless you count that time I tripped you into the mud. Or that time I almost got us both killed by elves, but that really wasn't on purpose, I swear."
Cormac started to shake, and the giggle threatened to reassert itself. "None of it matters, now. You want me. I love you. I'm yours. I've always been yours. Always."
"To be fair, I've almost gotten us killed plenty of times," Artemis replied, his smile just a touch too soft to be teasing. "But like you said, you have shields, and I'm cute." He kissed his brother tenderly, sweetly, until the giggling subsided, his hands gentle on every inch of skin he could reach. "And I love you," he murmured back, though he wasn't sure in the same way. "After all these years, I still can't believe you want me, that you'd let me touch you like this." He punctuated this sentence with a thrust of his hips, moving slow and deep inside his brother. A pleased sound caught in his throat at how beautifully Cormac fit around him.
Artie set up a slow rhythm, watching his brother's face, his reactions. "Cormac," he sighed, breathing the name like a prayer.
"That I let you?" The look on Cormac's face was sweet, sad, and confused, for a moment. "I belong to you." He pulled his knees up a bit, tilting his hips to let Artemis deeper inside him. "But, it didn't take much to convince me of the appeal. Watching you offer yourself to him… I wasn't so sure about watching, but you wanted me there. I'm not that into your elf. I wasn't that into you, at the time. But you wanted me there, and I just couldn't take my eyes off you." Cormac's hands wandered over as much skin as he could reach, with his legs pulled up so high. His touch remained gentle, little, lingering caresses. "And then, whatever it was you said. I don't even remember, I was so drunk. I was half sure you were joking. That you were going to tell me to get out and find you a proper pillow or a blanket, since I was the last one dressed in that room. I kept waiting for you to tell me you didn't mean it. And then you were on me, rubbing against me, almost in me so many times, and all I could think was that this was another way to give myself to you. Well, that and the part where it was really stupidly uncomfortable, and I tried to keep my mind on that, because you'd have ended me if I ruined the rug."
Artemis chuckled softly. "I think the rug would have been worth the sacrifice," he said. "I was disappointed when you didn't start screaming. I knew why you didn't, but I still ached to hear you." He shifted his hips a little more forcefully, still moving slowly but hard enough to make the mattress bounce. "Oh, Cormac. The first time you screamed for me, I couldn't believe it. The next morning, I thought I'd dreamed it." Even now it felt unreal, absurd, and Artie made note of every detail, every touch, every breath, every rustle of the sheets, every tactile bit of evidence that proved this was real. "Almost as good as when I tasted you for the first time, when you shoved so deep I forgot I needed to breathe. You were my whole world, in that moment."
Bracing himself on one arm, Artemis reached between them again, fingers light along Cormac's knob.
Cormac's eyes rolled back at the feel of those fingers on him. "Do you want me to scream for you?" The words were out before he could consider them. He caught his breath in a few short gasps, squeezing his brother tight inside him. "But, the better question might be, 'Do you dream of me screaming for you, often?' Tell me, my beautiful god, how do you dream of me?"
His eyes were bright and sharp, as he tried to stay focused on the words. He needed to hear this. It wasn't that he doubted any of it, but every time Artemis told him a little more, the edges on that terror in his chest wore down a little further. He could convince himself it wasn't some terrible wrong, because Artie wanted it — they both wanted it. And that was something he was still coming to terms with, but the more Artie talked about wanting him, the better he could accept returning that interest. And it was always, always hot listening to someone else's stories, even when they weren't about him.
Artemis shivered at the question, taking a moment to breathe, to gather his thoughts. "I do," he groaned. "I dream of you screaming for me. I dream of you telling me just how good I feel, inside you or around you. Oh, if you only knew how often I thought of you when we were teenagers, how often I would sneak out into the woods where no one would feel the earthquakes. I'd pretend the fingers inside me were yours. You don't know how often I'd watch you, wondering how you'd taste, how many times I thought about dropping to my knees in front of you and finding out. Oh, Cormac. You don't know how much I've thought of you." He shut himself up with another kiss, this one more desperate, breathless, as his hips got away from him, picking a faster rhythm. A groan caught in his throat. "Cormac."
"Come for me. Come inside me, Artemis," Cormac begged, voice a little higher, a little louder. "Mark me. Make me yours so everyone knows it. I don't care what they think. I want it. I want you. Let them know you own me, little brother." He writhed and arched, before falling into the rhythm Artie set. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard and I'll scream for you. Fuck me raw, Artie. Fuck me raw and come inside me," he pleaded, hands grabbing at his brother's body. "Do you want my fingers in you, next? Do you want it for real, this time, for me to finger you until you come again? Maybe after that, I'll still have enough in me to fuck you, hard and rough. Show me I'm yours, and I'll give you whatever you want."
Artemis shuddered, choked sounds catching in his throat. He wanted to wait, wanted to last, but Cormac's words sent heat and sparks down his spine. Holding tight to Cormac's hip, he picked up a merciless rhythm, rattling the headboard against the wall with each thrust, and breathed pleas to Cormac and the Maker against his brother's throat. He tightened his grip around Cormac's knob, stroking him and sending pulses of electricity through him in time to his thrusts.
"Maker, I…" Artie breathed. "Cormac. I can't…" Words were too much and disintegrated into more choked-off moans. Artie tried to hold out, but familiar sparks flashed behind his eyes as the rest of the bed started to shake. He pressed as deep as he could go, eyes rolling back as he spilled inside his brother.
Cormac howled, head pressing back into the bed, hands clutching at Artemis's back, ass wringing the knob buried inside him. "Yes, yes, yes!" But, he didn't come. He was nowhere near it, really. Wasn't about him, though. It was for him, but it wasn't about him. "You feel so good inside me. How did I go so long with you close enough to touch, close enough to kiss, without ever letting you take me like this? If I knew you'd do this to me, I'd have been on my knees for you with my ass in the air, years before I got there." He tugged his brother's hand away from his knob and brought it up to his lips, kissing the fingers. This was good. Amazing, really, but … not Anders. He loved Artemis so much, but nobody fucked him like Anders did. Which didn't matter, because he was here to sate his brother's bizarre desires that had been left untended for nearly half their lives. And that was something he could do. That was something he could feel good about.
Artemis continued circling his hips long after the bed had stopped rattling. He frowned despite Cormac's praise, knowing his brother hadn't come yet and looking up to see the distracted look on Cormac's face. Anders. Cormac had to be thinking about Anders. The fingers Cormac had been kissing slid up to cup his cheek. "Will you let me suck you off?" he asked. "I want to taste you." He wanted his brother to feel as good as he did, wanted to replace the sad look in his eyes with one of pleasure. There wasn't anything they could do for Anders tonight, and Artemis wanted to be a pleasant distraction.
"You're welcome to suck me, if that's what you want. I'm all yours, little brother. All of me. But, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to stay right here on my back, while you do it. I just can't…" Cormac's breath rushed out of him. "I can't. Not tonight." He expected Artie would be able to fill in the blanks. "But, I would welcome your mouth on any part of me. Your mouth, your hands, your knob, your ass… If you want to touch me, I'm here. I'm yours."
Cormac reached up to tuck his brother's hair behind his ear. "So, yes, by your holy aching balls, suck me as much as you like. Please. Just… try not to be upset if there's no 'off'. One, I already came twice tonight, so I might be empty, and two… I don't know if I can, right now, but as long as you're good with that, I want to keep going."
Artemis nodded, his smile soft, and he tugged teasingly at Cormac's beard as he bent in for another kiss. "Whatever you want, big brother," he murmured. Cormac did enough for him.
Pulling out of Cormac, Artie kissed a trail down his neck, his chest, nibbled on the point of one hipbone. He caressed Cormac's thighs, lowering Cormac's feet to the bed and gently spreading the knees further apart. He nuzzled the inside of one thigh, his hands still moving, still kneading, still caressing. Watching his brother's face, Artemis licked a broad stripe up his knob before closing his lips around the tip, humming at the taste.
Gasping, Cormac arched, trying to keep his ass against the bed. It wasn't the sensation nearly as much as the sight — his brother, who was his god, so contentedly enjoying his knob. "Please don't be a demon," he joked, knowing it wasn't actually funny at all. "That would break my heart." This had really started after they'd come out of the Fade — after they'd been tested and tempted — and that thought still lingered uncomfortably in the back of his mind. But, it had been drunkenly hinted at — more than hinted at — before that, and that was how he could convince himself it was real. That and the fact that if he were in the Fade, he'd be in bed with Anders, right now. Demons would do much better to tempt him with Anders, even if he knew he'd be able to tell the difference, there.
He pushed the thought aside and reached down to stroke his brother's cheek. "Do you like it? Does the taste of me still turn you on? I remember you wringing your own knob, the first time I pushed into your mouth. By your sweet lips, I wanted to spill out across your tongue and fill you up with the taste of me. I'm still awed at the way you look at me, how much you want me. I love it when you tell me. I love it when you show me. I love it when I can make you happy."
Artie purred around Cormac's knob, eyes still on his brother's face. He pulled back until just his lips touched Cormac's knob and murmured, "You taste amazing. And I'd have loved it, you know, if you'd fucked my mouth until you came down my throat." Just the thought made him shiver. "Maybe next time, hmm?"
One hand stroked and squeezed his brother as Artie's mouth travelled lower, pausing to suck at his balls and then travelling lower still, tongue prodding teasingly at Cormac's entrance. "You're still dripping," he murmured. "Shall I clean you up, big brother?" He smiled wickedly against Cormac's skin, savouring every noise, every twitch his brother made. "You know I hate to leave a mess," he teased.
"Oh, Artemis, yes… Yes! I love the feel of you. I want—" What did he want? That was a question Cormac wasn't sure he had an actual answer to, other than 'more'. "Just— Oh, Artie, you're killing me. Just the thought of you — you being you — you pushing your tongue into my ass —" The rest of that thought was lost in a strangled sound of raw desire. "I want you. I want everything you'll give me."
