Aug 242015
 

[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody In Ass Major – Chapter 161
Co-Conspirator: TumblrMaverikLoki
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Cormac Hawke , Artemis Hawke , Fenris
Rating: E (L3 N4 S4 V0 D0)
Warnings: Hawkeward Hawke-on-Hawke action, Fenris being tastefully rude
Notes: Yet more Hawkeward smut, and Fenris’s opinion on all of this.


Cormac’s hands clawed at his own skin, dragging red lines up his thighs and across his chest. "Even without the potion, I’d be just this hard. You do this to me. You drive me mad, you gloriously divine creature!"

Artemis felt his brother squirm, and his wicked grin turned smug. He turned his head to bite Cormac’s thigh just hard enough to bruise. "Hard to drive you mad when you’re already there," he teased. He paused to lick the skin he’d just bruised before returning his attention to Cormac’s ass. His hand continued its lazy, steady rhythm, squeezing just this side of too hard as he licked into his brother’s hole. Artemis had never tasted himself inside someone else before, and the thought alone was obscene enough to make him groan, even if he knew he’d want to wash his mouth out later. He’d do anything for his brother, especially if it resulted in Cormac making such delicious noises.

Delicious noises were the only sounds out of Cormac for a while, as his brother’s tongue darted into him and flicked over his freshly-fucked hole. His brother. His neurotically clean brother was licking spunk out of his ass. As entirely, ridiculously erotic as the thought was, he felt like he ought to object, on principle. But, Artie sounded like he was enjoying it, which just made it even more appealing. That his brother had chosen to do this with his body— A sentence finally fell out of Cormac’s mouth.

"Never thought you’d be into this. That Fenris’s influence?"

Artie pulled back, paused to wipe spit off his chin with the hand not busy on Cormac’s knob. "Well, he and I don’t, ah…" He cleared his throat, shrugging one shoulder. "He prefers my fingers. Quite vocally, too," he added with a broad grin. "But I love how it feels on the receiving end, and his tongue is…" Artemis shivered and let Cormac’s mind fill in what adjective it wanted. "Well. You were there the first time he… you know." The memory turned his ears pink. He’d been on his hands and knees, completely on display for Cormac and Fenris. "And I loved the thought of you watching me. Hearing me." His other hand cupped Cormac’s balls as he spoke, one finger pressing a spark to the skin there.

Cormac panted, delirious with vision and sensation, fingers squeezing his thumbnail against one nipple. He could probably make himself come, he realised. The question was just how completely disgusting he was going to feel afterward. He was willing to seriously consider it, if it would make Artie smile, though.

"I loved watching you. Do you know how drunk I was? I shouldn’t have been able to do anything but lie there and sulk about it. I didn’t think I wanted to be watching you. I didn’t think I should have been there at all, but it was… Oh, Artie, I wanted to be closer. I didn’t want to want it, but I did. Kept trying to tell myself you were hot because I was hot, and we were related, so it was obvious. Couldn’t admit to myself how much I wanted to feel you. How much I wanted you to bang me until I screamed, while he teased you with his mouth. But, I couldn’t take my eyes off you."

Artemis licked Cormac’s knob back into his mouth and hummed, all to hide the sad smile that wanted to pull at his lips. He loved hearing this, loved hearing Cormac tell him how much he was wanted, but he knew exactly how that felt, to want something he knew he shouldn’t, someone he knew he shouldn’t. For so many years, he was afraid Cormac would hate him if he knew, that his brother would find him disgusting and he’d end up losing his best friend. Artie’s hand pumped as he worshipped Cormac’s knob with lips and tongue. He pressed a sparking finger into Cormac and finally introduced a scrape of teeth.

And that was the cue. Cormac’s mouth got away from him — all the things he was still considering the wisdom of just pouring out, louder and louder. "Harder! More! I can do it— I can cheat it— I can make it if you just make it hurt. Hurt me, Artie, just fucking ruin me! Push harder. Force it. Make me come for you!" It would be revolting, if he did it himself, Cormac decided, but if Artie wrung it out of him, despite whatever was going on in his head, it wouldn’t be so bad. Might even be good. Might even be better. He just had to want it. He just had to not think of Anders. This wasn’t about Anders. This was his beautiful brother, who he loved more than life itself, swallowing his knob and finger-fucking his ass. That was what he had to keep in mind.

And Artie was torn because he hated the thought of hurting his brother but loved hearing him make those sounds, loved feeling him squirm. He’d promised ‘anything’ tonight, and that’s what Cormac would get. One sparking finger became three, shoving just this side of too rough, teeth scraping just this side of too hard. He groaned around his brother and watched his face, his mouth too occupied to beg but his eyes asking without words, trying to tell him with one look just how desperately he was wanted.

Cormac kept begging at the top of his lungs, riding the sensation, now. "Suck me! Fuck me! Give me more! I want you— oh, Artie, I want you so bad! I want your whole hand in my ass, when I come! I want to feel your knuckles digging into me! I want to clamp down around your wrist and scream for you! Just ruin me. I’m yours. I’m yours always."

The first sob wracked his entire body. It wasn’t pain — this was a pleasant tingle, compared to how things usually went — but, it was all too much and not nearly enough of it. This was the most simple, beautiful thing he’d been a part of. Just the two of them. Just him and his favourite brother. No one else watching. It was so perfect his chest hurt. The crying had to stop, though. The crying wasn’t sexy. Shit, he was making a mess of everything again, wasn’t he. "Trust the words, not my face," he choked out. "It’s good. I want more. Just losing my mind. Sorry. I’m— I’m fine. Just keep going. Please."

And that look broke Artie’s heart, the way Cormac’s face twisted, eyes glimmering with tears. Maybe this wasn’t distracting or helping as much as he’d hoped, and he considered stopping, considered crawling up next to his brother and folding him into his arms. But he knew Cormac would just wave it off, make a joke out of it and try to keep going anyway. Both hands still moving, still crackling with electricity, Artie pulled his mouth off of Cormac’s knob, pausing to lick swollen lips.

"Cormac, look at me," he said, watching the tears streak his brother’s face. "I love you. I want you. Can you see what you do to me? Fuck, Cormac, do you have any idea how good you taste? Can you come for me, big brother?" He wanted Cormac’s attention to be solely on him, for Cormac to let go just for a moment. "I want you. I want all of you." He wrapped his lips and teeth around Cormac’s knob again, mouth and hands pushing everything as close to ‘too much’ as he could.

"Take me. I’m yours," Cormac panted, teeth grit against the noise in his head. He had to stop crying. It wasn’t even bad crying. He was so … everything was right in all the ways it wasn’t supposed to be, and his body just refused to deal with it. "Take me, Artie. I know you can do this to me. I know you can make me come for you. I want it. I want you. I’m not kidding. Give me more. I know you don’t think it’ll fit, but it will. You know it will." Cormac squinted down his chest, eyes still damp, one hand still pressed against his forehead. "You, of all people, know it will."

Artemis’s rhythm stuttered, pausing before picking back up again as he processed what Cormac was asking. He could understand that desire, that ache to be filled, and even if he hadn’t, the promise of ‘anything’ still hung over them. Artie pulled back again, applied his teeth where he knew Cormac liked to be bitten and growled, "You want me? You want more of me?" Three fingers became four, and Artie prayed Cormac had the presence of mind to heal himself if this didn’t go as planned. He still moved just a bit rougher than he wanted to, folding his thumb flat against his palm as he pressed deeper. "Come on, Cormac. Scream for me," he purred.

Screaming was something Cormac could do. It was nearly the only thing he could do, for a few long moments, the only words mixed into the noise ‘please’ and ‘yes’. Cormac spread his legs wider, tilting his hips up to offer himself for more, deeper — This was his brother inside him, his mind reminded him, the thought fluttering against the inside of his skull with every beat of his heart. He was wedged open around his brother’s hand, his brother’s arm. His brother would do this for him, when even Anders wouldn’t, and Maker’s bleeding balls, he was trying so hard not to think of Anders, right now.

His brother’s name slipped into the flow of words he wasn’t even sure were real words, as he screamed them. It didn’t matter. What mattered was Artemis, buried deep in him, forcing him open, knuckles grinding where he wanted them most. He could feel the tingle in his thighs, his pulse against his brother’s lips, but it still wasn’t enough.

Artemis couldn’t keep up this pace much longer. His arms were tiring, fingers cramping. Cormac had warned him that he might not be able to finish, but Artie had taken that as a challenge at first. "Do you want more?" he asked, though what he really meant was ‘do you want me to keep going?’ As long as Cormac wanted it and begged for it, Artemis would give it to him.

Artie didn’t wait for an answer, deciding he could try one more thing before collapsing in defeat. His lips closed around Cormac’s knob again, and he ratcheted up the electricity, enough to make the small hairs on his arms stand on end. A strong current shot through Cormac’s knob and insides as Artemis swallowed him down.

Fenris, downstairs with a book, heard Cormac scream, that time. Not just a dim echo, but a sound that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He considered going upstairs, or maybe going to get Anders, but decided to wait. If something was wrong, he’d know soon enough. Cormac screaming wasn’t usually a bad thing, except for the part where Fenris didn’t much want to hear it.

Upstairs, Cormac arched, heels digging into the bed, body completely out of his control as he spurted hard into his brother’s mouth. The scream went on through clenched teeth, as every delicious moment burned itself into his mind. Even if he wanted to forget, which he didn’t, he wasn’t sure there was enough booze or concussion in all of Thedas to wipe this moment out of his mind. As the screams faded, his hands clutched intermittently at the blanket, and his ass finally made contact with the bed again.

"Artie?" he panted, jaw still aching from how tight it was shut. "You all right?"

Artie’s jaw ached as well but from being held open. He hummed around Cormac’s knob before letting it slip from his mouth, grabbing a corner of sheet to wipe off his chin. "I’ll live," he said with a crooked grin, a grin that didn’t quite hide his wince as he pulled his hand free. He hadn’t expected Cormac’s hips to jerk that hard, but he’d suffered worse injuries than a wrenched wrist. And making his brother react like that was more than worth it. He stretched and wiped off his fingers, making a note to clean these sheets later, before crawling up towards the headboard and flopping next to his brother.

"You?" Artemis asked, curling next to Cormac and throwing an arm and a leg over him.

Cormac wound around Artemis, pulling him as close as they could get to each other, without Cormac investigating new uses for his glowy talents. "Yes," he whispered, hands wandering over his brother’s skin, stroking healing magic into him. "I know. You’re fine. Let me worry anyway."

He couldn’t be sure if it was even necessary, but the last time he’d tried something like that, someone had wound up with a broken finger, so he had to make sure. He felt like he’d been hollowed out, and his body ached wonderfully. There were no words for this, but he wanted there to be, so he kissed Artemis while he tried to find them, a long, slow, passionate kiss. His senses filled with the taste and smell of his amazing younger brother, who deserved so very much better, but wanted him anyway. But, there was always Fenris, and he felt a lot better knowing that, even if he still had the sense he might have to kill the elf, one day. Things hadn’t started well, but they seemed to have improved. But, what was between him and his brother… he still couldn’t get his mind around it, but he could be grateful for it.

Letting his eyes slide closed, Artemis relaxed into the kiss. He could still feel drying tear tracks where he cupped the side of Cormac’s face, but he didn’t draw attention to them, merely reached up to tuck sweat-damp hair behind Cormac’s ear. It occurred to him that Fenris would be home by now, and he wondered if his poor elf had heard all the screaming.

After a while, Artie pulled back from the kiss to get a good look at his brother. He didn’t want to bring up Anders or ask how Cormac was doing, but those words were at the tip of his tongue. Instead, he traced Cormac’s tattoos with the tip of one finger, tattoos he’d wanted to trace for so many years. A smirk pulled at his lips, and he murmured, "Assface."

"Your Assface. Always," Cormac promised, a smile threatening one corner of his mouth. His hands were still gentle. "So, I know I run my mouth a lot, and I know I haven’t managed much of what I said I’d do, tonight, but… Do you still want me? Do I stand any chance of getting you interested, again? I promise not to use as many fingers as you just put in me." He laughed, quietly, throat still raw from the screams. "Anything for you, my sexy, young god."

Artemis chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Maybe in a bit," he said, giving Cormac’s beard another tug. "Right now, your sexy god would like to rest and just lie here with his high priest for a bit." He still wasn’t sure how he felt about being called a ‘god’. It would be simple to pass it off as Cormac joking, but knowing him…

Artie shifted, winding himself more tightly around Cormac, and tucked his head under his brother’s chin. There was so much more of him to curl around than Artemis was used to, sharing a bed with Fenris.


Fenris woke to the bed dipping, beside him. He squinted in that direction with one eye, face still firmly pressed into the pillow. Artemis. Oh good. He didn’t actually have to move.

"Mmmrgh?" He stretched a hand toward his mage, who looked much more tired than usual, for the hour. But, he’d woken up a few times to screams from down the hall, before he’d given up and piled the pillows on top of his head, covering them with the blanket. It looked like he’d rearranged himself at some point after the screaming stopped.

"Mmmrgh to you, too," Artemis murmured as he snuggled closer, curling under Fenris’s arm and batting aside a stray pillow. The elf grunted, blinking blearily at him, and the corners of Artie’s eyes crinkled in amusement as he reached up to smooth his elf’s impressive bedhair. "I’m sorry. Doubly sorry for the screaming I’m sure you heard. But… Cormac needed me, tonight. Haven’t seen him like this since Mum…" He trailed off, knowing he didn’t need to finish. "And I wasn’t exactly there for him, then."

Fenris blinked, trying to wrap his mind around the idea that this actually was something serious, despite it involving Cormac screaming. "Happened?" he asked, still half asleep. Nobody had died, he assumed, or he’d have known sooner. He didn’t much care, but he knew he should make the effort. "Y’brother okay?"

He wrapped himself possessively around Artemis, nuzzling his mage’s neck, feeling the warm prickle of magic against his skin.

Artie held Fenris loosely against him, wrapping his arms more easily around him than he had around Cormac. Lyrium tingled against his skin in a way that’d come to feel like home. "He’s upset," Artemis said, fingers idly tracing Fenris’s tattoos. "He and Anders had a falling out, I think." He hesitated, unsure how much he ought to tell Fenris. "Cormac… I think Cormac’s afraid he hurt him. ‘It’s not serious’, they keep insisting, but Cormac is a mess."

"Your brother’s an idiot," Fenris mumbled, pressing a kiss to Artie’s neck. "My mage is much smarter. Prettier, too." He wasn’t terribly sympathetic at the best of times, and mornings were never the best of times. "Should just find himself a nice Dalish and stop throwing himself at that abomination. ‘S going to get himself killed. With his dick. You know what I didn’t need to think about right after waking up? One guess. Don’t say it."

Artemis smirked against Fenris’s hair. "Well, that’s a mixed message," he teased. "Do you want me to not say it or do you want me to guess?" He tugged gently at one ear, just to hear Fenris whine sleepily. "And they’re both idiots, really, which is why they’re perfect for each other." And Artemis still believed that, even after Cormac’s proclamations of Artie’s godhood. "But I’m… I’m worried about him. About both of them, really." He considered the mostly asleep elf in his arms and sighed. "You probably don’t want to hear about this now. Go back to sleep."

"Middle of the day," Fenris muttered. "You really coming back to bed? ‘S not a complaint. Like it when you’re in bed, even if you do put off more heat than a man-sized warming pan. ‘S proof you’re hot. My mage. I got the hot one." The rest of that thought trailed off into a stream of nonsense syllables, as Fenris forgot what he was talking about. It wasn’t important, and he didn’t need to be awake, as evidenced by the fact that his mage had just come back to bed. He had every intention of sleeping until sunset, drinking wine with breakfast, and ravishing his mage against a bookcase, somewhere in the house. His mage. His.

"Yours," Artemis murmured as though agreeing to this thought. But Fenris was already fast asleep.